a new field! without a rival! just the thing! truth stranger than fiction! ------------------------------------------------------------------------- beadle's boy's library of sport, story and adventure -------------------------------------------------------------------------entered at the post office at new york, n.y., as second class mail matter. $2.50 a year. copyrighted in 1881 by beadle and adams. december 14, 1881. ========================================================================== vol. i. single published weekly by beadle and adams, price, no. 1. number. no. 98 william street, new york. five cents. ========================================================================== adventures of buffalo bill from boyhood to manhood. deeds of daring and romantic incidents in the life of wm. f. cody, the monarch of bordermen. * * * * * by colonel prentiss ingraham. [illustration: maddened with fright, the bull bounded into the air, snorted wildly, gored those in advance, and soon led the herd.] adventures of buffalo bill from boyhood to manhood. deeds of daring, scenes of thrilling peril, and romantic incidents in the early life of w.f. cody, the monarch of bordermen. by colonel prentiss ingraham. chapter i. prologue. that truth is, by far, stranger than fiction, the lessons of our daily lives teach us who dwell in the marts of civilization, and therefore we cannot wonder that those who live in scenes where the rifle, revolver and knife are in constant use, to protect and take life, can strange tales tell of thrilling perils met and subdued, and romantic incidents occurring that are far removed from the stern realities of existence. the land of america is full of romance, and tales that stir the blood can be told over and over again of bold privateers and reckless buccaneers who have swept along the coasts; of fierce naval battles, sea chases, daring smugglers; and on shore of brave deeds in the saddle and afoot; of red trails followed to the bitter end and savage encounters in forest wilds. and it is beyond the pale of civilization i find the hero of these pages which tell of thrilling adventures, fierce combats, deadly feuds and wild rides, that, one and all, are true to the letter, as hundreds now living can testify. who has not heard the name of buffalo bill--a magic name, seemingly, to every boy's heart? and yet in the uttermost parts of the earth it is known among men. a child of the prairie, as it were, buffalo bill will go down to history as one of america's strange heroes who has loved the trackless wilds, rolling plains and mountain solitudes of our land, far more than the bustle and turmoil, the busy life and joys of our cities, and who has stood as a barrier between civilization and savagery, risking his own life to save the lives of others. glancing back over the past, we recall a few names that have stood out in the boldest relief in frontier history, and they are daniel boone, davy crockett, kit carson and w.f. cody--the last named being buffalo bill, the king of bordermen. knowing the man well, having seen him amid the greatest dangers, shared with him his blanket and his camp-fire's warmth, i feel entitled to write of him as a hero of heroes, and in the following pages sketch his remarkable career from boyhood to manhood. born in the state of iowa in 1843, his father being one of the bold pioneers to that part of the west, buffalo bill, or will cody, was inured to scenes of hardship and danger ere he reached his tenth year, and being a precocious youth, his adventurous spirit led him into all sorts of deeds of mischief and daring, which well served to lay the foundation for the later acts of his life. chapter ii. a capture of outlaws. when will was but nine years of age his first thrilling adventure occurred, and it gave the boy a name for pluck and nerve that went with him to kansas, where his father removed with his family shortly after the incident which i will now relate. the circumstance to which i refer, and that made a boy hero of him in the eyes of the neighbors for miles around where his parents lived, showed the wonderful nerve that has never since deserted him, but rather has increased with his years. the country school which he attended was some five miles from his father's house and he was wont to ride there each morning and back in the afternoon upon a wiry, vicious little mustang that every one had prognosticated would some day be the death of him. living a few miles from the cody ranch was a poor settler who had a son two years billy's senior, who also attended the same school, but whose parents were too poor to spare him a horse from the farm to ride. this boy was billy's chum, and as they shared together their noonday meal, the pony was also shared, for the boy rode behind my hero to and from school, being called for each morning and dropped off near his cabin on the return trip. owing to the lawlessness of the country mr. cody allowed his son to go armed, knowing that he fully understood the use of weapons, and his pistol billy always hung up with his hat upon reaching the log cabin, where, figuratively speaking, the young idea was taught to shoot. the weapon was a revolver, a colt's, which at that time was not in common use, and billy prized it above his books and pony even and always kept it in perfect order. one day rascal, his pony, pulled up the lariat pin which held him out upon the prairie and scampered for home, and billy and davie dunn, his chum, were forced to "hoof it," as the western slang goes, home. a storm was coming on, and to escape it the boys turned off the main trail and took refuge in a log cabin which was said to be haunted by the ghosts of its former occupants; at least they had been all mysteriously murdered there one night and were buried in the shadow of the cabin, and people gave the place a wide berth. it was situated back in a piece of heavy timber and looked dismal enough, but billy proposed that they should go there, more out of sheer bravado to show he was not afraid than to escape a ducking, for which he and davie dunn really little cared. the boys reached the cabin, climbed in an open window and stood looking out at the approaching storm. "kansas crickets! but look there, davie!" the words came from buffalo billy and he was pointing out toward the trail. there four horsemen were seen coming toward the cabin at a rapid gallop. "who be they, billy?" asked davie. "they are some of them horse-thieves, davie, that have been playing the mischief of late about here, and we'd better dust." "but they'll see us go out." "that's so! let us coon up into the loft, for they'll only wait till the storm blows over, for they are coming here for shelter." up to the loft of the cabin, through a trapdoor, the boys went quickly and laid quietly down, peering through the cracks in the boards. the four horsemen dashed up, hastily unsaddled their horses and lariated them out, and bounded into the cabin through the window, just as the storm broke with fury upon forest and plain. as still as mice the boys lay, but they quickly looked toward each other, for the conversation of the men below, one of whom was kindling a fire in the broad chimney, told them that, if discovered, their lives would be the forfeit. in fact, they were four of a band of outlaws that had been infesting the country of late, stealing horses, and in some cases taking life and robbing the cabins of the settlers, and one of them said plainly: "pards, when i was last in this old ranch it was six years ago, when we came to rob foster beal who lived here; he showed fight, shot two of the boys, and we wiped the whole family out; but now let us get away with what grub we've got, and then plan what is best to do to-night. as for myself, i say strike old cody's ranch, for he's got dust." the boys were greatly alarmed at this, but, putting his mouth close to davie dunn's ear, billy cody whispered: "davie, you see that shutter in the end of the roof?" "yes, billy," was the trembling reply. "well, you slip out of there, drop to the ground and make for your home and tell your father who is here." "and you, billy?" "i'll just keep here, and if these fellows attempt to go i'll shoot 'em." "but you can't, billy." "i've got my revolver, davie and you bet i'll use it! go, but don't make a fuss, and get your father to come on with the settlers as soon as you can, for i won't be happy till you get back." davie dunn was trembling considerably; but he arose noiselessly, crossed to the window at the end of the roof, and which was but a small aperture, closed by a wooden shutter, which he cautiously opened. the noise he made was drowned by the pelting rain and furious wind, and the robbers went on chatting together, while davie slipped out and dropped to the ground. but ere he had been gone half an hour the outlaws were ready to start, the rain having ceased in a measure, and night was coming on to hide their red deeds. "hold on, boys, for i've got ye all covered. he's a dead man who moves." billy had crept to the trap, and in his hoarsest tones, had spoken, while the men sprung to their feet at his words, and glancing upward saw the threatening revolver. one attempted to draw a weapon, but the boy's forefinger touched the trigger, and the outlaw fell dead at the flash, shot straight through the heart! this served as a warning to the others, and they stood like statues, while one said: "pard, who is yer?" but billy feared to again trust his voice and answered not a word. he lay there, his revolver just visible over the edge of the boards, and covering the hearts of the three men crouching back into the corner, but full in the light from the flickering fire, while almost at their feet lay their dead comrade. again and again they spoke to billy, but he gave no reply. then they threatened to make it warm for him, and one suggested that they make a break for the door. but, each one seemed to feel that the revolver covered him, and none would make the attempt, for they had ocular demonstration before them of the deadly aim of the eye behind the weapon. to poor little billy, and i suppose to the men too, it seemed as if ages were passing away, in the hour and a quarter that davie dunn was gone, for he had bounded upon one of the outlaws' horses and ridden away like the wind. but, at last, billy heard a stern voice say:-"boys, you is our meat." at the same time several pistols were thrust into the window, and in came the door, burst open with a terrific crash that was music to billy's ears; while in dashed a dozen bold settlers, led by farmer dunn. the three outlaws were not only captured, but, being recognized as old offenders, were swung up to a tree, while billy and davie became indeed boy heroes, and the former especially was voted the lion of the log cabin school, for had he not "killed his man?" chapter iii. billy's first duel. near where billy's father settled in kansas, dwelt a farmer who had a son and daughter, the former being fourteen, and the latter eighteen. as is often the case with boys, billy fell in love with nannie vennor, which was the young lady's name, although she at eighteen was just seven years older than he was. but she had been over to call on the cody girls with her brother, and a deep attachment at once sprung up between the boys, and billy became the devoted slave of nannie, making her a horse-hair bridle for her pony, gathering her wild flowers whenever he went over to the vennor farm, and in fact being as devoted in his attentions as a young man of twenty-one could have been. but nannie had another lover, in fact a score of them from among the neighboring young settlers, but one in particular who bid fair to be billy's most dangerous rival. this one was a dashing young fellow from leavenworth, with a handsome face and fine form, and who always had plenty of money. folks said he was very dissipated, was a gambler, and his name had been connected several times with some very serious affairs that had occurred in the town. but then he had a winning manner, sung well, and nannie's beaux had to all admit that he was every inch the man, and one they cared not to anger. from the first billy cody hated him, and did not pretend to hide the fact; but it seemed the boy's intuitive reading of human nature, as much as his jealousy on account of nannie vennor. one day billy was seated by the side of a small stream fishing. the bank was behind him, rising some eight feet, and he had ensconced himself upon a log that had been drifting down the stream in a freshet, and lodged there. back from him, bordering the little creek ran the trail to the nearest town, and along this rode two persons. the quick ear of the boy heard hoof-falls, and glancing quickly over the bank he saw three horsemen approaching, and one of these he recognized as hugh hall his rival. just back of billy was a grove of cottonwood trees, and here the men halted for a short rest in the shade, and all they said distinctly reached the boy's ears. "i tell you, pards," said hugh hall, "i cannot longer delay then, so if old vennor refuses to let me have nannie i'll just take her." "the best way, hugh; but what about the wife that's now on your trail?" asked one. "what care i for her, after i have run off with nannie?" "but she'll blow on you to old man vennor." "i do not care. i'll deny it to nannie, say the woman is crazy, and one by one the family will drop off until she only remains, and then she'll get the property." "you are sure it's coming to 'em, hugh?" asked one. "i am so sure that i drew up the will of vennor's brother four years ago, when i was practicing law in chicago." "he may have changed his mind." "nonsense; he died shortly after, and the will says if richard vennor was not found, and the fortune turned over to him, within five years after robert vennor's death, the fortune was to go to charity. "now i kept the secret dark, came out to look up richard vennor, and having found him, shall marry his daughter and get all!" "your wife will give you trouble." "i wish you to get rid of her then, and i'll pay well for it." "we'll do the job, and help you all we can," said one, and the second one of the pair whom billy did not recognize, echoed his comrade's sentiments. "well, hugh, we found lucy was trailing you, and hearing you was about to strike it rich, concluded we'd come and post you for old friendship's sake." "and i'll pay you for it; but we must not be seen together, so i'll wait here while you ride on to leavenworth, and in an hour i'll follow you." this agreement seemed satisfactory, and two horsemen rode away, after a few more words, while hugh hall threw himself down upon the grass to rest. for awhile billy cody was very nervous at what he had heard; but he soon grew calm, and having waited until he knew the two men were more than a mile away, he cautiously stood up upon the log and glanced over the bank. hugh hall was fast asleep, and his horse was feeding near. noiselessly billy drew himself upon the bank and approached the man, his faithful revolver held in his hand. "i wonder if it would be wrong if i killed him, when he is such a villain!" he muttered. "yes, i won't do it; but i'll make him go straight to mr. vennor and i'll tell him all i heard. "here, hugh hall, farmer vennor wants to see you." the man sprung to his feet, his hand upon his revolver. but billy had taken the precaution to get behind a tree, and had the drop on his rival. "oh, it's you, you accursed imp of satan," cried the man angrily. "yes, it's me, and i want you to go to mr. vennor, for i'm going to tell him all i heard you say," said the boy boldly. hugh hall knew billy's reputation as a fearless boy and a sure shot, and he saw that he was in great danger; but he said quietly: "well, i was going to the farmer's and we'll ride together." "no, i'll ride and you'll walk, for i came down the stream fishing to-day, and haven't got my pony." as quick as a flash the man then drew his pistol, and firing, the bullet cut the bark off the tree just above the boy's head. instantly however billy returned the shot, and the revolver of hugh hall fell from his hand, for his arm was broken; but he picked it up quickly and leveled it with his left, and two shots came together. billy's hat was turned half round on his head, showing how true was the aim of his foe, while his bullet found a target in the body of hugh hall. with a groan he sunk upon the ground, and springing to his side, billy found him gasping fearfully for breath. "i am sorry, hugh hall, but you made me do it," he said sorrowfully. but the man did not reply, and running to the horse feeding near, he sprung into the saddle and dashed away like the wind. straight to farmer vennor's he went and told him all, and mounting in hot haste they rode back to the grove of cottonwoods. hugh hall still lay where he had fallen; but he was dead, greatly to billy's sorrow, who had hoped he would not die. then, while farmer vennor remained by the body, billy went for the nearest neighbors, and ere nightfall hugh hall was buried, and his two allies in crime were captured in leavenworth, and given warning to leave kansas forever, which they were glad to do, for they had not expected such mercy at the hands of the enraged farmers. but before they left they confessed that billy's story was a true one, and told where the wife of hugh hall could be found, and once again did the boy become a hero, even in the eyes of the bravest men, and the settlers gave him the name of boss boy billy, while nannie vennor, now a mother of grown sons, each christmas time sends him a little souvenir, to show him that she has not forgotten her boy lover who fought his first duel to save her from a villain. chapter iv. shooting for a prize. while mr. cody was an indian trader at salt creek valley in kansas, billy laid the foundation for his knowledge of the red-skin character, and which served him so well in after years and won him a name as scout and hunter that no one else has ever surpassed. for days at a time billy would be in the indian villages, and often he would go with the warriors on their buffalo and game hunts, and now and then would join a friendly band in a war trail against hostiles. another favorite resort of billy's was fort leavenworth, where his handsome face, fearlessness and manly nature made him a great favorite with both officers and men. on one occasion while at the fort a large government herd of horses, lately brought up from texas, where they had been captured wild on the prairies, stampeded, and could not be retaken. once or twice billy had come into the fort with a pony of the fugitive herd which he had captured, and the quartermaster said to him: "billy, if that herd remains much longer free, they will be harder to take than real wild horses, so go to work and i'll give you a reward of ten dollars for every one you bring in, for the government authorizes me to make that offer." this was just to billy's taste, and he went at once home and spent a couple of days preparing for the work before him, and from which his mother and sisters tried to dissuade him; but the boy saw in it a bonanza and would not give it up. his own pony, rascal, he knew, was not fast enough for the work ahead, so he determined to get a better mount, and rode over to the fort to see a sergeant who had an animal not equaled for speed on the plains. rascal, some sixty dollars, a rifle, and some well-tanned skins were offered for the sergeant's horse and refused, and in despair billy knew not what to do, for he had gotten to the end of his personal fortune. "sergeant," he suddenly cried, as a bright idea seized him. "well, billy?" "they say you are the crack shot in the fort." "i am too, billy." "well, i'll tell you what i'll do to win your horse, little grey. i'll put up all i have offered you against your animal and shoot for them." "why, billy, i don't want to win your pony and money." "and i don't want you to; but i'll shoot with you for your horse against mine and all else i have offered." the sergeant was a grasping man, and confident of his powers, at last assented, and the match was to take place at once. but the officers learning of it were determined billy should have fair play, and a day was set a week off, and the boy was told to practice regularly with both pistol and rifle, for the terms were ten off-hand shots with the latter at fifty and one hundred yards, and six shots standing with the revolver at fifteen paces and six from horseback, and riding at full speed by the target. billy at once set to work to practice, though he had confidence in his unerring aim, and upon the day of trial came to the fort with a smiling face. nearly everybody in the fort went out to see the match, and the sergeant was called first to toe the mark. he raised his rifle and his five shots at fifty yards were quickly fired. billy gave a low whistle, but toed the scratch promptly, and his five shots were truer than the sergeant's, and a wild cheer broke from one and all. at one hundred yards the sergeant's shooting was better than the boy's; and so it was with the pistol shooting, for when standing the sergeant's shots were best, and in riding full speed by the target, billy's were the truest, and it was called a tie. "how shall we shoot it off, billy?" asked the sergeant, who seemed somewhat nervous. billy made no reply, but went to his haversack and took from it an apple, and going up to his pony placed him in position, the rein over the horn of the saddle. the apple he then put on the head of the pony, directly between his ears, and stepping back while all present closely watched him, he threw forward his pistol and fired. the apple flew into fragments and a wild burst of applause came from all sides, while billy said quietly: "i've got another apple, sergeant, for you to try the same on little grey." "i'll not run the risk, billy, of killing him, so give in; but i'll win him back from you sometime," said the sergeant. "any time, sergeant, i'm willing to shoot," replied the boy, and with a happy heart he mounted his prize and set off for home. chapter v. wild horse hunting. for several days after billy cody got his prize he did nothing but train the animal to his use and was delighted to find that little grey would follow him like a dog wherever he went. having all arranged now for his wild horse hunting, he set out one day from home to be gone a week or more, he told his mother, and with the promise that he would bring her a small fortune soon. he had already discovered the feeding grounds of the herd, and thither he went at once, arriving in the vicinity shortly before dark. as he had expected, he found the herd, nearly five hundred in number, but he kept out of sight of them, as it was so near dark, and camped until morning, when he found they had gone up the valley for some miles. cautiously he followed them, and getting near unobserved at last made a dash upon them. into their midst he went and a good horse was picked out and lariated in the twinkling of an eye and quickly hoppled and turned loose. then another and another, until billy felt that he had done a pretty good day's work. he had discovered two things, however, and that was that little grey seemed more than a match for any of the herd with one exception, and that one was a large, gaunt-bodied black stallion, that appeared to drop him behind without much effort. "i've got to have him," said billy, as he returned to his hoppled prizes and began to drive them toward the fort. it was a long and tedious work, but the boy was not impatient and reached the fort at last and received his reward, which he at once carried to his mother and received her warm congratulations upon his first success. back to the herd's haunts went billy, and again he camped for the night, but was aroused at dawn by a sound that he at first thought was distant thunder. but his ears soon were undeceived as he sprung to his feet, well knowing that it was the herd of wild horses. instantly billy formed his plan of action and mounting little grey rode into a thicket near by, which wholly concealed him from view. here he waited, for he knew that the herd was coming to the river to drink, and a cry of delight burst from his lips as he beheld the black stallion in the lead. "it is the horse the settlers call sable satan and that belonged to a horse thief, father told me, who was shot from his back one night. "well, if i can catch him i'll be in luck, and i'll try it, though they say he is awful vicious. be quiet, gray, or you'll spoil all." on came the large drove at a trot directly for the river, and a beautiful sight it was as they moved forward in solid mass, with flowing mane and tail and the rising sun glancing upon every variety of color. the leader was a perfect beauty, black as ink, with glossy hide and long mane and tail--the equine king of the herd. with his reins well in hand, his lariat ready, and full of excitement, billy waited for the horses to reach the stream, which they entered to quench their thirst. as every head was lowered and the nostrils driven deep into the cool waters, out of the thicket dashed the boy horse-hunter, and the clattering hoofs startled the drove, and in confusion and fright they turned to fly. straight as an arrow went the boy toward the black stallion, which attempted to dash by with the mass. but with an unerring hand the lariat was thrown, the coil settled down over the haughty head, a tremendous jerk followed, and sable satan was thrown to the ground. with an exultant cry billy sprung from his saddle, and quickly formed a "bow-stall"[1] which, when properly made, is more effective than a severe curb bit--and placed it upon the animal that was choked beyond the power of resistance. [footnote 1: a "bow-stall" is formed by taking a turn with a rope or lariat between the nostrils and eyes of a horse, and passing one end over the head, back of the ears and tied on the opposite side. a second noose is then made around the jaws and from this the reins lead back toward the rider, who can then thoroughly manage the animal.--the author.] loosening the lariat around his neck billy sprung upon the prostrate animal, which, with a wild snort bounded to his feet, and with prodigious leaps started on after the flying herd, his daring young rider firmly seated upon his back. finding he could not unseat billy by bounding, he came to a sudden halt, and then reared wildly; but with catlike tenacity the boy clung to him, and then sable satan mad with rage and fright, attempted to tear him from his back with his gleaming teeth. a severe jerk on the bow-stall however thwarted this, and with a maddened cry the splendid prairie king bounded on once more after the flying herd, a call to little grey from billy causing him to follow at a swift run. with a speed that was marvelous sable satan flew on, directly into the drove, the daring young rider still clinging to him, determined to dare any danger to keep the animal whose capture had baffled the very best horsemen of the plains. sweeping through the herd, as though they were stationary, so great was his speed, the black stallion soon left them far behind, and glancing back billy saw that little grey had not cared to venture into the midst of the wild band and was galloping away over the prairies. not knowing who might pick him up, and having his rifle, ammunition and provisions strapped to his saddle, he determined to go on after little grey, and at once a fierce fight began between the boy and his horse. but the boy proved the master, and after a severe struggle the black stallion was subdued, and guided by the bow-stall was in full chase of little grey, while sable satan's former subjects were flying away northward without their leader. when in chase of little grey, billy soon discovered the remarkable speed of his new capture, for he overhauled his former pet with ease, and now thoroughly broken in, the saddle and bridle were transferred to the black's back, and exultant over his success the boy rode on to the fort, where large sums were offered him for the famous stallion. but billy refused each tempting offer, and on sable satan set out to capture more of the herd, and which he readily succeeded in doing; but as the government offer of ten dollars for the fugitive animals became known, there were a number of men starting on the trail of the wild mustangs and though billy got the lion's share, he did not quite realize the expected fortune, but was content with the few hundreds he made, and the ownership of sable satan and little grey, the two fastest horses on the kansas prairies. chapter vi. saving a father's life. while in kansas mr. cody became interested in the affairs of the state and joined the free state party, and while making a speech on one occasion was deliberately attacked and severely wounded. he however recovered sufficiently to work on his farm again, but was constantly harassed by his old foes, who on several occasions visited his home with the intention of hanging him. on one occasion, when in town, billy learned of an attack to be made upon his father, and mounting sable satan rode with all speed out to the farm. he was recognized and hotly pursued; but he got home in time to warn his father who took little grey and made his escape. the horsemen, a score in number, came to the farm, and finding mr. cody gone, the leader struck billy a severe blow and when he departed carried with him sable satan. this almost broke the boy's heart; but he declared he would some day regain his horse, and for weeks he tried to do so, but without success. one night two horsemen came to the cody farm and again asked for the farmer, but were told by mrs. cody that he was away. they would not take her word for it; but thoroughly searched the house, after which they forced billy's sisters to get them some supper. while they were eating billy and his father returned, and warned by one of the girls, mr. cody went up-stairs to bed, for he was quite ill, and suffering from the wound he had received. but billy went into the kitchen and saw there the very man who had struck him the severe blow; and who had taken sable satan on his last visit. "well, boy, that's a good horse i got from you," he said, with a rude laugh. "yes, he's too good for such a wretch as you are," was the fearless reply. "no lip, boy, or i'll give you a licking you'll remember. by the way, where's that old father of yours?" said the man. billy made no reply but walked out of the kitchen, to be soon after followed by his sister mary who said anxiously: "oh, will, they say father must have come with you, and they intend to search the house again." "then i'll go up and tell father," whispered billy, and up-stairs he went. he found his father asleep, and his mother was seated near him and told billy he had a high fever. "then don't wake him, and i'll not let them come up here," said billy, and he went out of the room and took his place at the stairs. a moment after the two men, both with pistols in their hands, came out of the kitchen and started to come up-stairs. "stop, luke craig, for you can't come up here," said the boy. with a hoarse laugh the man sprung up the steps to fall back as a pistol flashed in his face and roll back to the bottom, knocking his companion down too. but the latter quickly sprung to his feet and dashed out of the house to where their horses were hitched. his horse was a white one, and his comrade's was sable satan, and to the latter he ran. but up went the window and in a loud voice billy cried: "i've got my rifle on you, and i'll fire if you take my horse." the man evidently believed that he would, from what he had seen, and mounting his own horse dashed swiftly away in the darkness while billy returned to the one he had shot. he found him badly wounded, but not fatally, and putting him in his father's buggy drove him to the nearest doctor, at whose house he remained for months before he was well again. chapter vii. love and rivalry. finding that billy was becoming far more accomplished as a rider and shot, than in his books, mrs. cody determined to send him to a small school that was only a few miles away. billy, though feeling himself quite a man, yielded to his mother's wishes and attended the school, which was presided over by a cross-grained dominie that used the birch with right good earnest and seeming delight. of course billy's love of mischief got him many a whipping; but for these he did not seem to care until there suddenly appeared in the school another pupil in the shape of a young miss just entering her teens. the name of this young lady was mollie hyatt, and she was the daughter of a well-to-do settler who had lately arrived, and was as pretty as a picture. billy's handsome face and dark eyes won her young heart, and the love-match was going smoothly along until a rival appeared in the field in the shape of a youth two years the junior of young cody, and larger and stronger. these virtues on the part of master steve gobel, with his growing love of mollie, made him very assuming, and he forced his company upon the little maid, and had things pretty much his own way, as all the boys seemed afraid of him. as for billy he let him have his own way for awhile, and then determined not to stand it any longer he sought steve gobel for a settlement of the affair, the result of which was, the teacher hearing them quarreling and coming out took the word of young cody's rival about it, and gave my hero a severe whipping before the whole school. since his meeting mollie hyatt, billy had been a most exemplary youth, never having had a single whipping, and this cut him to the heart so deeply that he did not seem to feel the pain of the rod. and it made him treasure up revenge against steve gobel, who was laughing at him during the castigation. the next day billy built for mollie a pretty little arbor on the bank of the creek, and all admired it greatly excepting steve gobel, who, as soon as it was finished pulled it down. poor mollie began to cry over her loss, and infuriated at beholding her sorrow, billy rushed upon his rival and a fierce fight at once began between them. finding that he was no match for the bully in brute strength, and suffering under his severe blows, billy drew from his pocket his knife, opened the blade with his teeth, and drove it into the side of his foe, who cried out in wild alarm. springing to his feet, amid the frightened cries of the children, billy rushed to his pony, drew up the lariat pin, and springing upon his back, rode away across the prairie like the wind. coming in sight of a wagon-train bound for the west, he rode up to it and recognizing the wagon-master as an old friend of his father, he told him what had occurred, and that he feared he had killed steve gobel. "served him right, billy, and we'll just go into camp, take the boys along, and go over and clean out the house o' l'arnin'," was the blunt reply of the wagon-master. but this billy would not bear to, and the wagon-master said: "well, my boy, i'm bound with the train to fort kearney, so come along with me, and i'll make a man of you." "but what will my mother think of me?" "oh! i'll send a man back with word to her, while you stay, for i won't give you up to that boy's friends." and thus it was settled; a man rode back to the cody farm, and the following day he overtook the train again, and billy's heart was made glad by a letter from his mother telling him that steve gobel was not badly wounded, but that under the circumstances he had better go on with the wagon-master and remain away until the anger of the gobel family cooled down. thus, as a boy bullwhacker, billy made his first trip across the plains, and months after, upon his return home, found that the gobels had forgiven the past, and that mary hyatt had, little coquette that she was, found another beau. but shortly after his return his father died, and having to aid in the support of his mother and sisters, billy accepted a position as herder for a drove of government cattle to be driven to the army of general albert sydney johnson, that was marching against the mormons at salt lake. chapter viii. killing his first indian. when the train and beef-herd, with which billy cody had gone, arrived in the vicinity of old fort kearney their first serious adventure occurred, and for a while the boy thought of his mother's prediction, that he "would be killed or captured by indians." not expecting an attack from red-skins in that vicinity, the party had camped for dinner, and most of them were enjoying a _siesta_ under the wagons, billy being among the latter number, while but three men were on duty as herders. but suddenly they were aroused by shots, wild yells, and rapid hoof-falls, and down upon them dashed a band of mounted warriors, while others had killed the three guards and the cattle were stampeding in every direction. but the train hands quickly sprung to their feet, rallied promptly for the fight, and met the advancing red-skins with a volley from their mississippi yagers, which were loaded with ball and buck-shot, and checked their advance. knowing that they could not hold out there the train-master called out: "boys, make a run for the river, and the banks will protect us." all started, when billy called out: "don't let us leave these wounded boys." they turned at his word, to find that two of their number had been wounded, one seriously in the side and the other in the leg. raising them in their arms they started at a run for the bank, ere the indians had rallied from the fire that met them, and reached it in safety, though the man who had been shot in the side was dead ere they got there. a short consultation was then held, and it was decided to make their way back to fort kearney, by wading in the river and keeping the bank as a breast work. a raft of poles was constructed for the wounded man, and the party started down the stream, protected by the bank, and keeping the indians at bay with their guns, for they followed them up closely. as night came on, utterly worn out with wading and walking, billy dropped behind the others; but trudged manfully along until he was suddenly startled by a dark object coming down over the bank. it was moonlight, and he saw the plumed head and buckskin-clad form of an indian, who, in peering over the bank to reconnoiter had lost his balance, or the earth had given way, and sent him down into the stream. he caught sight of billy as he was sliding down, and gave a wild war-whoop, which was answered by a shot from the boy's rifle, for though taken wholly by surprise he did not lose his presence of mind. hearing the war-whoop and the shot, and at the same time missing billy, the men came running back and found him dragging the red-skin along in the stream after him. "it's my injun, boys," he cried exultantly. "it are fer a fact, an' i'll show yer how ter take his scalp," replied frank mccarthy the train-master, and he skillfully cut off the scalp-lock and handed it to billy, adding: "thar, thet is yer first scalp, boy, an' i'm willin' ter swear it won't be yer last, for billy, you is ther boss boy i ever see." billy thanked mccarthy for the gory trophy, gave a slight shudder as he took it, and said significantly: "i ain't so tired as i was, and i guess i'll keep up with you all now, for if the bank hadn't caved in that injun would have had me." at daylight they came in sight of kearney, and after a volley or two at the indians still dogging their steps, made for the fort and reached it in safety. the commanding officer at once sent out a force in pursuit of the red-skins; but they neither found them or the cattle they had driven off. after a short stay at fort kearney billy returned with a train to leavenworth, where the papers dubbed him the "boy indian-killer," and made a hero of him for his exploit on the south platte. chapter ix. winning a name. when billy returned home, after his first indian-killing expedition, he carried with him the pay of a bullwhacker, and all of it he placed in his mother's hands, for the death of mr. cody had left the family in indigent circumstances. finding that she could not keep billy at home when he had found out that by his exertions, boy though he was, he could support the family, mrs. cody gave a reluctant consent for him to make another trip to the far west under an old and experienced wagon-master named lew simpson, and who had taken a great fancy to the youthful indian-fighter. bill was accordingly enlisted as an "extra," which meant that he was to receive full pay and be on hand ready to take the place of any one of the train that was killed, wounded, or got sick. the wagon train pulled out of leavenworth, all heavily freighted, each one carrying about six thousand pounds weight, and each also drawn by four yoke of oxen under charge of a driver, or "bullwhacker." the train consisted of twenty-five wagons, under lew simpson, then an assistant wagon-master, next billy, the "extra," a night herder, a cavallard driver, whose duty was driving the loose and lame cattle, and the bullwhacker for each team. all were armed with _yagers_ and colt's revolvers, and each man had a horse along, billy's being sable satan, still as good as the day he captured him, and a piece of equine property all envied the boy the possession of; in fact there were several of the men who swore they would yet have the horse. "i guess not, pards; the boy caught that horse wild on the prairies, and the man that lays hands on him settles with me." the speaker was j.b. hickok, known to the world as "wild bill," and upon that trail he and william f. cody for the first time met. wild bill was assistant wagon-master on that trip, and all knew him so well that the idea of possessing sable satan by unfair means was at once given up and billy felt secure in his treasure, for such the horse was, as his equal for speed and bottom had not been found on the plains. as an "extra hand" billy had nothing to do while the bullwhackers kept in good health, and no indians were met with, so became the hunter of the train, keeping it well supplied with fresh meats and wild fowl. it was upon one of these hunts that billy won the name of buffalo billy, though afterward it was shortened by dropping the _y_ after proving himself the champion buffalo-killer on the plains. dismounting from sable satan to cut up an antelope he had shot, he was suddenly startled by seeing his horse bound away over the prairie. springing to his feet he at once discovered the cause, for over a distant roll of the prairie a herd of thousands of buffaloes were coming at terrific speed. one chance of escape alone presented itself and that was a lone cottonwood tree standing some few hundred yards distant. in all the prairie around not another tree was visible, and billy had noticed this lone sentinel as he was creeping up for a shot at the antelope. at full speed he rushed for the tree and hastily climbed it, securing a safe seat amid its branches, while yet the herd was some distance away. but glancing back over the huge drove to his horse he beheld a band of mounted warriors in full chase. the center of the herd was headed directly for the tree, and the indians were so following that they must come directly under it. if discovered billy knew well what his fate would be. the indians would give up buffalo meat for a human scalp. these thoughts flashed through the boy's mind, and he at once decided what he would do. to remain, was certain death at the hands of the red-skins. to leave, as he intended, by the means of a buffalo was a fearful risk. but he would take it; and accordingly strapped his rifle upon his back, picked out his buffalo, a huge bull, and swinging quickly from a limb, watched his chance and dropped down upon the back of his choice. clutching the long, shaggy mane he clung for dear life, at the same time holding himself on with his spurs. maddened with fright the bull bounded into the air, snorted wildly, gored those in the advance and soon led the herd. billy kept his seat nobly, a grim smile upon his face, and occasionally glanced backward at the herd and the pursuing indians. and straight for camp went the herd, until discovered by the train men, who started out in force to head them off. but pell-mell into camp they went, stampeding the oxen and horses and frightening the men, and billy began to feel that he must keep on his racer clear to the hills. but the animal was tired out now and had dropped to the rear of the herd, and wild bill, seeing his young friend, raised his rifle and dropped the buffalo bull just as he was running out of camp. from that day the boy was known as buffalo billy. chapter x. captured by danites. with the usual adventures incident to a trip across the plains, an occasional fight with indians, and several grand hunts, the train at last arrived near green river in the rocky mountains. billy, lew simpson and another of the train had dropped back during the afternoon for a hunt, and upon drawing near the place where they were to encamp, were surprised to discover a band of horsemen coming toward them, whom they observed, however, to be white men. suspecting no harm from those of their own race, they rode forward, and, as they met, were startled to hear: "up with your hands! you are dead men if you resist!" "who are you?" asked lew simpson, angrily. "joe smith, the danite," was the calm reply of that leader. "if i had known you were that accursed scoundrel i'd have shot you," growled lew simpson. "am awful glad you did not know it; but come, you are my prisoners, and your train is in my power," was the reply, and upon arriving at camp they found that it was but too true, for the boys had not suspected danger from men they had believed a party of united states cavalry. the danite leader, joe smith, then ordered all that could be packed on horses to be taken and the wagons set on fire, and told the train men to set out on foot for fort bridger, saying: "you can reach there, but i guess albert sydney johnson and his troops will never get the supplies." the train was burned, all but one wagon, which carried supplies for the men, and armed only with their revolvers, they were ordered away by the danites. but buffalo billy was not one to see his splendid horse go without remonstrance, and, as begging did no good, offered to take him upon any terms he could get him on. "boy, ain't you the one who killed hugh hall in kansas some time ago?" asked the man who had billy's horse. "i am." "well, i owe you one, for he was my pard, and you got me run out of the country by your work, so i'm willing to be even by keeping your horse." "i'll fight you for him," said billy, fiercely. "what with, boy, fists or knives?" "you are a fool to talk that way, for you weigh double what i do; but i'll fight you for the horse with rifle or pistol." the train men tried to dissuade billy from this determination, for they saw the danite was anxious to take him at his word, and to kill him; but he had made the offer and the mormon urged it on, and the arrangements were made to fight with pistols at fifty paces, walking on each other and firing until one fell. they at once took their stands and joe smith gave the word, saying in a low tone before doing so: "he's a boy in years; but he must be got rid of." at the word the danite advanced at a rapid walk firing; but buffalo billy stood still, and waited until he had received four shots, all coming dangerously near, when he suddenly threw his revolver to a level and drew trigger. at the flash the man fell, shot in the leg, and the duel ended. but the danites would not give up the horse, saying that a wounded man could not continue the fight, and as billy had not killed his foe, the animal could not be claimed by them. wild bill and lew simpson roundly cursed joe smith and his danites for a set of thieves, while billy said sadly: "good-by, sable, old fellow, good-by." as he spoke he went up to his splendid horse, that stood saddled near, and throwing himself upon his back, with a defiant yell, bounded away like an arrow from the bow. the danites opened a perfect fusilade of pistol-shots upon the boy, but they flew harmlessly by him, and a number mounted and gave pursuit in hot haste. but sable satan left them far behind and they gave up the chase, while billy hung about until the train-men came along, and joined them, receiving from one and all the highest praise for his daring escape. some days after the disconsolate train-men reached fort bridger, to find that other trains than theirs had been robbed by the danites. chapter xi. a hot indian fight. as it was late in the fall lew simpson and his men were compelled to winter at the fort, where there were a number of troops and train employees of russell, majors and waddell, who were formed into military companies, officered by wagon-masters. as wild bill was placed in command of the battalion of train-men, he made buffalo billy an _aide-de camp_ and the boy devoted himself assiduously to the duties devolving upon him, and before the long and tedious winter passed was forced to experience hardships of the severest kind, as the garrison had to live on mule meat, and haul wood from the distant mountains themselves, their animals having been served up as food. in the spring simpson started east with a train, and buffalo bill accompanied him as hunter for the men, his well known marksmanship and skill in securing game readily getting for him that position. one day lew simpson and an "extra hand" accompanied him on one of his hunting expeditions, and to their surprise they came upon a band of indians coming out of a canyon not far from them. they were out on the prairie, and knowing that they could not escape on their mules, simpson and the extra told billy to ride off on sable satan and save himself. but this the boy would not do, saying that he would remain with them. "then your horse must go with our mules," said simpson. "all right, lew," said billy, though the tears came into his eyes. telling them to dismount, just as they came to a buffalo wallow, lew simpson said: "now, give 'em a shot just back of the ears." the shots were fired, billy shutting his eyes as he pulled the trigger, and sable satan and the two mules dropped dead in their tracks. in an instant they were dragged into position, so as to form a triangular fort, and getting into the wallow, with their knives the three threw up the dirt as rapidly as possible to make their position safer. by this time the indians, some half hundred in number, were rushing upon them with wildest yells. but crouching down in their little fort of flesh and dirt, lew simpson and his man and boy comrade leveled their rifles over the bodies of the slain animals, and, as the bowling red-skins came within sixty yards, fired together. down went three indians, and while lew simpson reloaded the yagers billy and george woods fired with their revolvers with such right good will the indians were checked in their advance and turned to retreat out of range, followed by three more shots from the yagers. five indians and four ponies were the result of this fight, and it gave the holders of the triangular fort confidence in themselves. but the indians did not give up the attack, but circled around and around the fort, firing upon the defenders with their arrows, and slightly wounding all three of them, while the bodies of the mules and horse were literally filled with shafts. after a few rides around their pale-face foes, the indians suddenly charged again, coming from every quarter, and forcing the whites to each defend the space in his front. with demoniacal yells they came on once more, and once more the yagers opened, and then were thrown aside for the rapidly firing revolvers which did fearful execution. glancing toward billy lew simpson saw that he was perfectly cool and had a revolver in each hand, although his shirt was saturated with blood from the arrow wound in his shoulder. unable to understand, or stand the hot fire of the revolvers, they again broke, when within twenty yards of the fort and rode off rapidly out of range. "you got three that time, billy," cried lew simpson gleefully, as he saw a trio of red-skins scattered along in the front of the boy. billy smiled grimly and reloaded his weapons, after which lew simpson dressed the wounds of his comrades, who returned a like favor for him. but the indians had by no means gone, for they had gone into camp in a circle around their foes, but well out of range of the fearful mississippi yagers. the three defenders in the mean time improved their opportunity to strengthen their fort with dirt and dig a deeper space within, while they also lunched upon their scanty supply of food. "they'll starve us out if they can't take us by charging," said simpson. "they can't starve me as long as your mule holds out, lew, for i won't eat poor sable; it would choke me," replied billy. "well, mule meat's good," said woods. "yes, when there ain't anything else to eat, but i prefer buff'ler or injun," was billy's response. "we may have to eat injun yet," laughed lew simpson. all made a wry face at this supposition and again prepared to meet a charge, for the red-skins were coming down in column. but again they were checked with loss, and billy's shot brought down the chief. darkness coming on, the indians formed in line as though to ride away, when lew simpson said: "they must take us for durned fools not to know that they won't leave their dead unburied, and that they think they can draw us out. no, here is where we live until the boys from the train come to look us up." during the night the indians, finding their foes would not leave their fort, set the grass on fire to burn them out. but it was too scanty to burn well and only made a smoke, under cover of which they once more advanced, to be once more driven back. with the morning they showed that their intention was to starve them out for they went into a regular camp in a circle upon the prairie. but during the afternoon a party of horsemen appeared in sight, and the three hungry, suffering, half-starved defenders gave a yell of delight, which the red-skins answered with howls of disappointed rage as they hastily mounted their ponies and fled. the train-men soon came up and were wild in their enthusiasm over the brave defense made, while the fort came in for general praise, although one and all deeply regretted sable satan's sad end, though his death had served a good purpose. chapter xii. boy trappers' adventures. it was a proud day for buffalo billy when he returned home and was welcomed by his mother and sisters, to whom he gave all of his earnings, which were considerable, as his pay had been liberal. the neighborhood, hearing from members of the train of billy's exploits, for he was very close-mouthed about what he had done, made a hero of him, and many a pretty girl of seventeen regretted that the boy was not a man grown, to have him for a lover. but billy's restless nature would not allow him to remain idle at home, so he joined a party of trappers who were going to trap the streams of the laramie and chugwater for otter, beaver and other animals possessing valuable fur, as well as to shoot wolves for their pelts. this expedition did not prove very profitable, and not wishing to return home without enough furs to bring a fair sum, buffalo billy joined a young man, only a few years his senior, by the name of dave harrington, and the two started off for the republican. their outfit consisted of a wagon and yoke of oxen, for the transportation of their supplies and pelts, and they began trapping in the vicinity of junction city, kansas, and went up the republican to prairie dog creek, where they found plenty of beaver. while catching a large number of beavers, one day they returned to camp to find one of their oxen had fallen over a precipice and killed himself, and they were left without a team. but the boy trappers, for dave harrington was not eighteen, determined to trap on through the winter, and in the spring one of them would go for a team to haul back their wagon. ill fortune seemed however to dog their steps as trappers, for one day, while chasing elk, buffalo billy fell and broke his leg, and dave harrington had to carry him to camp. here was a sad predicament, for the nearest settlement was one hundred miles distant. but dave set the leg as skillfully as he could, built a "dug-out," for the wounded boy to live in, filled it with wood and provisions, and then set out to procure a yoke of oxen and sled to return for billy and their pelts. the "dug-out," was a hole in the side of a bank, covered with poles, grass and sod, and with a fire-place in one end, and a bunk near it, was by no means uncomfortable; but the prospect of remaining there for a month alone, for it would take harrington that time to go and return through the deep snow, was by no means a pleasant prospect for a boy under fourteen, and with a broken leg. dave started the following morning on foot, and billy was left alone, helpless, and in the solitude of the mountain wilds. to throw wood on the fire was a painful effort for him, and to move so as to cook his food was torture, and boys of his age can well feel for him in distress and loneliness. but buffalo billy was made of stern stuff, and knew not what fear was; but who can picture the thoughts that were constantly in his young brain, when the winds were sweeping through the pines at night, the wolves were howling about his door, and the sleet and snow was almost continually falling. it were enough to drive a strong man mad, let alone a boy. but he stood it bravely, each day however counting with longing heart the hours that went so slowly by, and hoping for his comrade's return. "perhaps he has been frozen to death." that was his thought one day about harrington. the next it was: "i wonder if he has not lost his way?" again it was: "i fear the indians may have killed him." when dave had been gone about two weeks, buffalo billy was startled one day from a sound nap, to see an indian standing by his side. he was in full war-paint and feathers, which showed he was on the war-path, and billy felt that it was all over with him. speaking to him in sioux, which the boy understood, he asked: "what pale-face boy do here?" "my leg is broken." "what for come here?" "to get furs." "this red-skin country?" this laconic assertion billy could not contradict, so he wisely held his peace. "let see leg," came next. billy showed him the bandaged limb, which was broken between the knee and ankle. just then another indian entered whom billy recognized, as having seen before, and whom he knew to be the great sioux chief, rain-in-the-face. billy called him by name, and he kept back the warriors, who were about to end the boy's life then and there. "boy pale-face know chief?" asked rain-in-the-face. "yes, i saw you at fort laramie, and gave you a knife," said billy with hope in his heart. "ugh! chief don't forget; have knife here," and he showed a knife which he had doubtless often used upon the scalps of pale-faces. "what pale-face boy do here?" billy told him. "where friend?" "gone after team." "when come back?" billy was afraid to tell him the truth, so said: "in two moons." "long time." "yes; but do your young men intend to kill me?" "me have talk and see." the indians then held a council together, and billy could see that the chances were against him; but old rain-in-the-face triumphed in the end, and said: "as pale-face boy is only pappoose, my young men not kill him." billy had often longed to be a man; but now he was happy that he was a boy, and answered: "yes, i am only a little pappoose." "him heap bad pappoose, me remember," said rain-in-the-face, recalling some of the jokes the boy played at fort laramie. the indians then unsaddled their ponies and camped at the dug-out for two days, and when they left they carried with them the sugar and coffee, billy's rifle and one revolver, and most of the ammunition, besides what cooking utensils they needed. then old rain-in-the-face bade the boy good-by, and they rode off without poor billy's blessing following them. hardly had they gone before a severe snow-storm sprung up, and it was hard indeed for the crippled boy to get wood enough to build a fire, for the red-skins had put it out before leaving. the wolves, seemingly understanding how helpless the boy was, scratched at the door, and ran over the roof of the dug-out, at the same time howling viciously; but billy frightened them off with an occasional shot, and resigned himself to his lonely fate. but at last a month passed away, and with its end appeared brave dave harrington. he had passed through innumerable dangers, but had at last come back in safety, and brought with him an ox-team. never in his life had buffalo billy felt the joy of that moment, and, though not a boy given to showing his feelings, he burst into tears of delight. as it was impossible to at once return, on account of the very great depth of the snow, dave told billy they would wait until spring, as he had plenty of provisions, and that fur animals were plenty. as soon as the snow began to melt dave got his traps in, collected his pelts, which numbered a thousand, and putting them on the wagon, so as to serve as a bed for billy, started his oxen homeward. after twelve days they reached the ranch where dave had purchased the oxen, paid in furs for the team, and started on to junction city. arriving there they sold their team, wagon and furs, the latter bringing them about two hundred and fifty dollars, a handsome sum for each when divided, and which made billy's heart glad to take home with him, for it paid off a mortgage on his mother's farm. chapter xiii. buffalo billy strikes it rich. it was months before billy obtained perfect use of his broken leg and was able to throw his crutches aside; but when he did do so it was with a glad heart, for once more he longed to be upon the plains. hearing of a rich discovery of gold in colorado, he joined a party of miners that were bound there, and, reaching the mining camps, staked out a claim and began work. he was the youngest person in the mines, in fact the only boy there, and with many he was a great favorite; but there were a few men there who sought to impose upon him on account of his youth. this treatment buffalo billy was not the person to stand, and the result was one of his foes struck him one night without the slightest cause. the result was a general row, for billy's friends at once backed him in resenting the blow, and, though the fracas lasted but a few minutes, there were several burials next day as the result. of course this made billy more disliked by those who, without reason, had become his foes, and to add to their dislike, he one day struck a rich vein that promised to pan out well in ore. a few days he toiled in his lead, laying up considerable sums by his work, and one morning, as he went to his mine, he found it occupied by two rough-looking men whom he did not remember to have ever seen before. "well, pards, i guess you're up the wrong tree," he said, pleasantly. "i guesses not; this are our lead," said one, rudely. "how do you make that out?" "we staked it months ago, and was called away, and now we has returned to it." "well, i believe you both to be lying, and until you prove it's your claim you can't have it," was the bold reply. "who's goin' ter say no?" "i am." "you!" "yes." "who is you?" "i am named william frederick cody." "you has handle enough." "i have more than that." "waal." "i'm called buffalo billy." "we has heer'd o' you as a chap as has too much cheek fer one so young." "then if you know me you will understand that though i am but a boy i won't let you walk away with my claim." "get out, boy." billy obeyed; that is he went down to the camps and consulted his friends about what was best for him to do. "we'll go up and call in their chips, billy," was the universal decision. "no, let us find out if the claim is theirs," said billy. "find out nothin'; they has no right to it and 'tain't justice." so up to the mine they went, and billy's friends recognized the two claimants of the mine as two worthless fellows who had been in the valley months before, but who had no claim upon the boy's property. "you must git!" that was the decision; but just then others came up who sided with the desperadoes and things looked very scary for awhile, for half the crowd swore that the mine had belonged to the two claimants to it and that billy ought to give it up. but these were the men who disliked billy and his party, as they were the honest miners, and who were willing to side with his foes. "ef ther boy wants ther mine he will hev to fight fer it," said one. "he will fight for it and so will we!" cried one of billy's friends. all this time billy had remained silent; but now he saw that his friends were in deadly earnest, and to prevent a general fight and much loss of life he said: "the mine i own legally and i'll fight for it if that will settle it, but i don't want to have to fight both of you." "oh, but you must though," said one. "if i must, i'll do it." "but you shall not, billy. these two devils only want to murder you so they can get the mine, and they sha'n't do it." this was said by billy's best pard and the others who liked the boy backed him up in his words, and pistols were drawn on both sides and the slightest act now all knew would cause trouble. "if they'll fight me with revolvers and separately i'll be willing," said billy, hastily, anxious to avert the trouble. "waal, we'll do that, so sail in," said one. "no, not this way, you accursed coward, but go off there, stand with your back to the boy, as he will to you, and twenty paces apart, and at a word wheel and fire," cried billy's friend. this seemed fair and all agreed to it, and the man and the boy were placed in position, billy pale but calm. the other side won the word to wheel and fire, and though the man tried to aid his friend in giving it, buffalo billy was too quick for him and fired a second in advance of his adversary. but that second was enough, for the bullet went straight to the heart of the one at which it was aimed, while his shot flew wild. a yell burst from billy's friends as they rushed forward while his foes were bringing up their other man. but just then a stranger rode up, and leveling a pistol at the second claimant for the mine said sternly: "dick malone, my gallows-bird, i arrest you in the name of the law." the stranger was a united states detective, and the one he arrested an escaped convict. this ended the fight for the mine; but after a few days' longer work in it billy found that the vein panned out badly, and selling out his interest in it returned to his home once more, convinced that mining was not his forte, though he certainly had dug out enough of the yellow ore to prove to his mother that he had not been idle. chapter xiv. the young guide. the next time that buffalo billy left home it was in the capacity of assistant guide to a train of emigrants that were going to the far west to settle. in leavenworth one night he met in a common assembling room for all classes of men, a man who was train boss, or captain, and who was going to the west to raise cattle and also to farm. his train, consisting of some thirty families, was encamped out of town resting and fitting up for the renewal of the march, and he had come into leavenworth to secure a competent guide, the one who had been acting as such having been taken very ill. he had just secured the services of a young man who professed to know the country well though he was a stranger in leavenworth, and fearing an accident might deprive him of his services too, the captain was looking around for an assistant when he came upon billy. he liked the boy from the first, but feared, on account of his youth, that he might not be competent for the position, until assured by several teamsters that he was fully so, and consequently he engaged billy at a fair salary. the chief guide, who called himself roy velvet, billy had never met, until the morning the train rolled out of camp on its way westward, and from the very first he did not like him. he was a handsome, but dissipated looking young man, dressed like a dandy, was more than thoroughly armed, and rode a superb bay mare. he smiled when captain luke denham, the train boss, introduced billy as an assistant guide, and said sneeringly: "i guess he won't be of much use ten miles away from leavenworth, captain." billy made no reply, but kept up considerable thinking, and set to work at his duties. for some days the train went on finely, and all felt the new guide knew his business; but then there came some stormy days, it was hard traveling, several times the train had to make a dry camp, and once they were attacked by indians, until some of the old teamsters felt confident that roy velvet had lost the way. yet on they plodded until at last the nature of the country was such that it was difficult for the train to travel, while, to add to their discomfort and fears, a large band of indians were hovering near them. "well, velvet, where will you find a camping place to-night?" asked captain denham, riding forward and joining the guide. "oh! i'll find a good place, and only a short distance ahead; after that the country will be all right for traveling," was the quiet answer. "i don't believe it, for it has not that look." "then ask the assistant guide," was the stern reply. "i would, but he is not with the train, and has not been seen since last night." "perhaps he got out of sight of the train and couldn't find his way back," sneered the guide. "oh no! that boy knows what he is about, and i'll trust him for it." "well, yonder is the camp," and roy velvet pointed to a little meadow not far distant, through which ran a deep stream, and beyond and overshadowing it, was a range of bold hills. "it's a pleasant spot indeed, and i guess we'll halt a day or two," said the captain, and he gave orders for the train to encamp. but suddenly up dashed billy cody, mounted upon a large horse no one had ever seen him ride before, and it was evident that he had been riding hard. "captain denham, don't camp there, sir, for you place yourself at the mercy of the renegades and indians that are dogging your trail," he said hastily. "i am the guide, boy, and have selected the camp," sternly answered roy velvet. "and you are my prisoner, roy velvet," and quicker than a flash the revolver of buffalo billy covered his heart. roy velvet turned very pale, but said: "are you mad, boy?" "no." "billy, what is the matter?" asked captain denham, while the teamsters and settlers gathered quickly around. "tie that man and i will tell you." "but, billy--" "tie him, captain, or i shall shoot him, for i know who and what he is," cried billy, and his manner, his charge against the chief guide, his mysterious absence from the train for eighteen hours, and his return upon a strange horse, proved to all that he did know something detrimental to roy velvet. "speak, billy, and if you know aught against this man, tell us," said the captain. "disarm him then for he is a tricky devil." "captain denham, will you permit that boy to cover me with his revolver and hurl insult upon me?" cried the guide. "as you will not do as i ask i will do it myself," and billy rode up to the guide, still holding his cocked revolver upon him, and deliberately took from his belt his revolvers and knife. "you are so sly, so soft in your cunning, velvet, that i'll be on the safe side," said billy with a smile, as he felt over the man for another weapon. "ah! i'll take this derringer from your breast pocket," and out he drew the concealed weapon. "now, captain, i'll introduce to you red reid, the renegade chief." all were astonished at this charge made by billy against the guide, for red reid was one of the vilest road-agents that infested the overland trails to the west, and had robbed and murdered many a train of emigrants, and of government supplies. he was known also to be in league with the red-skins, and had them for allies, when his own force of renegades was not large enough to make a successful attack. "he lies! i am not that monster," shouted the guide as white as a corpse. "i do not lie, sir; from the first i did not like you, and knowing that you were going off the regular trail west i watched you. "i have seen you, at night, slip out of camp and meet indians, and last night i followed the one you met. "i overtook him on the prairies, after a hard chase, and he shot my horse; but i shot him and found he was a white man in indian disguise, and more, before he died he recognized me, for he was once my father's friend, but went to the bad. "he told me who and what you were, and when he died to-day i mounted his horse and came on after the train, for i knew you were going to lead them here to attack this very night with your band that is not far away." the story of billy made a deep impression upon the train people, and the result was that roy velvet was seized, bound, and hanged to a tree within fifteen minutes, and the boy who had saved them from death was made chief guide. at once he led them out of the dangerous locality where they could be ambushed and attacked, and the truth of the charge against roy velvet was sustained by the attack of the supposed indians upon their camp; for, when driven off and the dead examined, a number of white men were found in the red paint and dress of indian warriors. without difficulty buffalo billy led the train on to its destination, proving himself thereby a perfect guide, and after a short stop in the new settlement, he returned with a government train bound east, and again was warmly welcomed "home again." chapter xv. the pony express rider. one day when he had ridden into leavenworth buffalo billy met his old friend, wild bill, who was fitting out a train with supplies for the overland stage company, and he was at once persuaded to join him in the trip west going as assistant wagon-master. putting a man on his mother's farm to take care of it, for as a farmer billy was not a success, he bade his mother and sisters farewell and once more was on his way toward the land of the setting sun. having been at home for several months, for his mother not being in the enjoyment of good health he hated to leave her, billy had been attending school, and had been a hard student, while in the eyes of his fellow pupils, girls and boys alike, he was a hero of heroes. on his trip west with wild bill he had carried his books, and often in camp he had whiled away the time in studying, until he was asked if he was reading for a lawyer or a preacher. but when well away from civilization his books were cast aside for his rifle, and he was constantly in the saddle supplying the train with game. without any particular adventures the train arrived in due season at atchison, and there so much was said about pony riding on the overland that buffalo billy decided to volunteer as a rider. resigning his position with the train, mr. russell gave him a warm letter to alf slade, a noted personage on the frontier, and to him billy went. slade was then stage agent for the julesberg and rocky ridge division, with his head-quarters at horseshoe, nearly forty miles west of fort laramie, and there billy found him and presented his letter. slade read the letter, looked billy carefully over, and said: "i would like to oblige you, my boy, but you are too young, the work kills strong men in a short time." "give me a trial, sir, please, for i think i can pull through," said billy. "but are you used to hard riding and a life of danger?" "yes, sir, i've seen hard work, young as i am." "i see now that russell says you are buffalo billy," and slade glanced again at the letter. "yes, sir, that's what my pards call me." "i have heard of you, and you can become a pony rider; if you break down you can give it up." the very next day billy was set to work on the trail from red buttes on the north platte, to three crossings on the sweet water, a distance of seventy-six miles. it was a very long piece of road, but billy did not weaken, and ere long became known as the boss pony rider. one day he arrived at the end of his road to find that the rider who should have gone out on the trip with his mail, had been killed in a fight, so he at once volunteered for the run to rocky ridge, a distance of eighty-five miles, and arrived at the station even ahead of time. without rest he turned back and reached red buttes on time, making the extraordinary run of _three hundred and twenty-two_ miles without rest, and at an average speed of fifteen miles an hour. this remarkable feat won for him a presentation of a purse of gold from the company, and a fame for pluck and endurance that placed him as the chief of the pony riders. chapter xvi. a ride for life. one day, after buffalo billy had been a few months pony riding, a party of indians ambushed him near horse creek. he however, as did his horse, miraculously escaped their foes, dashed through them and went on like the wind. but the red-skins gave hot chase, firing as they ran, yet still without effect. billy was well mounted and had not felt fear of them until he saw two of the indians rapidly drawing ahead of the other, and gaining upon him. he urged his horse on at full speed with lash and spur, but still the red-skins gained. then he saw that they too were splendidly mounted, not on ponies, but large american horses which they had doubtlessly captured from the cavalry. nearer and nearer came the indians, and on billy pressed at full speed. throwing a glance over his shoulder he saw that one of the red-skins, whose feathers proved him to be a chief, was gaining on his comrade, and yet seemed not to be urging the large roan he rode. "i want that horse, and i want that injun," muttered billy, and he quietly took his revolver from his belt. nearer and nearer came the chief, and billy felt his own horse wavering, and knew he was forced beyond his powers of endurance, and fearing he might fall with him, determined to act at once. dragging the animal he rode to a sudden halt, and reining him back upon his haunches, he suddenly wheeled in his saddle and fired. the indian saw his sudden and unexpected movement, and was taken so wholly off his guard that he had no time to fire, and ere he could raise his pistol, a bullet went crashing through his brain. he fell back on his horse, that dashed straight on, and was then thrown to the ground, while the rein of the animal was seized by billy with a force that checked his mad flight. it was an easy thing for the pony rider to spring upon the back of the roan and get away; but he would not give up his own saddle and the mail bags which were attached to it, and, dismounting, he was hastily making the transfer from his own to the red skin's horse when up dashed the second indian, and firing as he came, sent a bullet through the cap of the youth, knocking it from his head. the two horses he held began to both pull back in alarm, and for an instant things looked very dismal for the brave pony rider; but a second shot from the warrior missed the boy and killed his horse, and this relieved him of that trouble, and instantly he drew his revolver and fired. down from his horse fell the red skin, but only wounded, and as he still clutched his pistol, billy was forced to give him another shot, which quieted him forever, just as the band of indians came in sight. but the presence of mind for which he was noted did not desert the pony rider, and he quickly cut loose his saddle from his dead horse, sprung with it in his hand upon the back of the roan and dashed away once more just as the shots of his foes began to patter around him. the indians, however, kept the chase up, and billy dashed up to the station to find that the stock-tender lay dead and scalped in front of his cabin and the stock had been driven off. but without an instant's delay the pony rider urged the splendid roan he had captured on once more and arrived in safety at plontz station _ahead of time_, and made known what had happened back on the overland trail, and added new laurels to his name. chapter xvii. the boy stage driver of the overland. after six months longer of pony riding over the dangerous trail of seventy-six miles, ridden by day and night in all kinds of weather, buffalo billy met with an adventure that was the cause of his again finding another occupation. the indians had become very troublesome as fall came on and a number of pony riders had been killed and stations burned along the route until there were few who cared to take the risks. the stage coaches also were often attacked, and on one occasion the driver and two passengers were killed and several others were wounded. but billy did not flinch from his long, lonely and desperate rides, and seemed to even take pleasure in taking the fearful chances against death which he was forced to do on every ride out and in. one day as he sped along like the wind he saw ahead of him the stage coach going at full speed and no one on the box. at once he knew there was trouble, and as he drew nearer he discovered some indians dash out of a ravine and give chase. as he heard the clatter of hoofs behind him he looked around and saw a dozen red-skins coming in pursuit, and felt confident that he must have dashed by an ambush they were preparing for him, by suddenly changing his course and riding _around_ instead of _through_ a canyon. the stage coach was now in the open prairie, and dashing along the trail as fast as the horses could go, while the indians in close pursuit numbered but three. billy was well mounted upon a sorrel mare, and urging her with the spur he soon came in range of the red-skin furthest in the rear and hastily fired. down went the pony, and the indian was thrown with such violence that he was evidently stunned, as he lay where he had fallen. another shot wounded one of the remaining indians, and they hastily sped away to the right oblique in flight, while billy dashed on to the side of the coach. there were five passengers within, and two of them were women, and all were terribly frightened, though evidently not knowing that their driver lay dead upon the box, the reins still grasped in his nerveless hands. riding near, billy seized his mail bags and dextrously got from his saddle to the stage, and the next instant he held the reins in his firm gripe. he knew well that ted remus, the driver, had carried out a box of gold, and was determined to save it for the company if in his power. his horse, relieved of his weight and trained to run the trail, kept right on ahead, and he, skillfully handling the reins, for he was a fine driver, drove on at the topmost speed of the six animals drawing the coach. behind him came the indians, steadily gaining; but billy plied the silk in a style that made his team fairly fly, and they soon reached the hills. here the red-skins again gained, for the road was not good and in many places very dangerous. but once over the ridge, and just as the indians were near enough to fill the back of the coach with arrows, billy made his team jump ahead once more, and at breakneck speed they rushed down the steep road, the vehicle swaying wildly, and the passengers within not knowing whether they would be dashed to pieces, or scalped by the indians, or which death would be the most to be desired. but billy, in spite of his lightning driving, managed his team well, and after a fierce run of half an hour rolled up to the door of the station in a style that made the agent and the lookers on stare. but he saved the box and the lives of the passengers, and several days after was transferred from the pony rider line to stage driving on the overland, a position he seemed to like. chapter xviii. a clever disguise. while riding pony express the road on buffalo billy's run became infested with road-agents, who were wont to halt every rider they could catch, and also rob the stages. the chief of these outlaws was noted as a man of gallantry, for he never robbed a woman, no matter what the value of her personal effects might be. ladies with valuable diamonds in their ears, and rings that were worth a small fortune, were always spared by this man, who became known by his forbearance to the fair sex as the "cavalier." poor men were also exempt from being robbed by the cavalier; that is if he really thought a man was poor and not "playing possum," to get off from paying the toll demanded. in halting a stage the driver was never robbed, but government and the company's moneys were always taken, and well-to-do travelers had to pay liberally. pony express riders were never robbed of their pocket money, but the mail was invariably searched for money. once only had buffalo billy been halted by the cavalier, though the other riders had frequently been brought to a halt and made to pony up. that once billy had shown fight, had tried to run by, and his horse had been shot; but he slightly wounded the cavalier in the arm, and for it he was told if he ever attempted resistance again he would be promptly killed. this did not trouble the young rider in the least, but he made up his mind that he would not be caught; and after that the road-agents found it impossible to bring him to a halt, and his mails always went through in perfect safety. at last it became rumored that buffalo billy had been removed to another part of the road, and that as no riders could be found to take his long night rides, a daughter of one of the stock-tenders had volunteered for it, and the company, knowing her ability as a rider, accepted her services until another could be found. the first night on the run she arrived at the other end on time, though she reported that she had been halted by the cavalier and four of his men. the road-agent seemed greatly surprised that a woman, in fact a young and very pretty girl, should be riding the road, but she made known the circumstances, and he told her she should always go through unmolested by him and his men. but he made the mails, carried by the other riders, and the stage-coach passengers, suffer for his leniency to the girl rider, and the government and both the express and stage companies offered a large reward for the capture of himself and men alive. this seemed to do no good, although a number of attempts were made to capture him, which signally failed, and the reward was increased and added "dead or alive." all this time the girl rider often met the cavalier in her rides, and when the moonlight nights came on, he would often, as she was flying along, dash out from some thicket, and ride with her ten or fifteen miles. the more he saw of her the more he seemed to admire her, and his times of joining her increased, and he seemed to so enjoy his rides with her, that he would, when she went into a station to change horses, make a circuit around it, and joining her beyond, continue on for another dozen miles, for he rode a fleet steed, and one of great bottom. one night as they thus sped along he told the girl pony rider that he had learned to love her, tho' he had never seen her face in the daylight, and that he had accumulated a large sum, for he had a treasure hiding-place in the mountains, and, if she only would love him in return and fly with him, he would be the happiest of men, and give up his evil life. the maiden promised to think of it, said it was so sudden and unexpected, that she had never loved before, and did not even then know her own heart, and with this she dashed on her way like the wind. the next night the cavalier again met her, and again renewed his vows of love, and she told him she had thought of it, and would stand by him until death parted them. the cavalier went into ecstasies over this, and an evening was appointed when they should leave the country together, which was a night on which the girl rider knew she was to carry quite a sum of money in huge bills to the paymaster of the company at the other end of the line. the night in question came round, and the cavalier road-agent, as he had promised, had relays of fresh horses every twenty miles until they should have gone two hundred, which would put them beyond pursuit; in fact the company would not discover for twenty-four hours just what had happened, the outlaw and maiden both believed, so considered themselves safe. at the hour he had agreed to meet the maiden, the cavalier was on hand at the timber, mounted on his finest horse, dressed in his best, and carrying a couple of large saddle-bags loaded with treasure, consisting of his lion's share of the robberies, and which included watches, jewelry, gold, silver and paper money. the maiden asked him to dismount and arrange her saddle-girths, and as he was stooping, she threw down the rein of his horse which she was holding, and to which she had attached something, and away he started in a run, for the violent motion had frightened him; but he soon came to a halt. rising to his feet the cavalier suddenly felt the cold muzzle of a revolver pressed against his head, and heard the words: "you are my prisoner; resist and i will kill you; up with your arms!" he tried to laugh it off as a joke, but she was in deadly earnest, and he soon found it out. leaning over she took the weapons of the road-agent from his belt, and told him to move on ahead. he could but obey, for he knew she would kill him if he did not. a mile up the trail and the stock-tender's station came in sight, and in the moonlight they both saw a crowd of men awaiting them there. once more the cavalier begged for his release; but she was determined, and marched him straight up to the crowd. "well, billy, you've got him," cried a voice as they approached. "i most certainly have, and if you'll look after him i'll go and fetch his horse, for i've got a hook fastened to his rein and he can't go far." "billy!" cried the road-agent. "yes, i am buffalo billy, and i assumed this disguise to catch you and i've done it. "do you love me now, pard?" the road-agent foamed and swore; but it was no use; he had been caught, was taken to the town, tried, found guilty of murdering and robbing and ended his life on the gallows, and buffalo billy got the reward for his capture, and a medal from the company, and he certainly deserved all that he received for his daring exploit in the guise of a young girl, and a pretty one too, the boys said he made, for he had no mustache then, his complexion was perfect, though bronzed, and his waist was as small as a woman's, while in the saddle his height did not show. as to the cavalier, billy said he deserved his name, and certainly talked love like an adept at the art, and his lovemaking, like many another man's, led him to ruin and death. chapter xix. the desperadoes' den. shortly after this adventure of the rescue of the stage coach, the indians became so bad along the line that the pony express and stages had to be stopped for awhile on account of the large number of horses run off. this caused a number of the employees of the overland to be idle, and they at once formed a company to go in search of the missing stock, and also to punish the red-skins. of this company wild bill, who had been driving stage, was elected the commander, and, as they were all a brave set of men, it was expected they would render a good account of themselves. of course buffalo billy went along, by years the youngest of the party, but second to none for courage and skill in prairie craft. they first struck the indians in force on the overland trail, and defeating them with heavy loss, pursued them to the powder river, and then down that stream to the vicinity of where old fort reno now stands. pushing them hard the whites had several engagements with them, and each one of the company performed some deed of valor, but none were more conspicuous for daring deeds than was buffalo billy. permitting them no rest the whites drove the indians into their village, and although they were outnumbered four to one, captured all of the company's stock as well as the ponies of the red-skins. having been so successful wild bill gave the order to return, and the indians had been too badly worsted to follow, and they reached sweetwater bridge in safety, and without the loss of an animal they had retaken or captured. the stages and pony express at once began to run again on time, and buffalo billy was transferred to another part of the line, to drive through a mountainous district. but anxious to return home, after his long absence, he resigned his position, determined to take advantage of a train going east, and in which he could get a position as assistant baggage-master on the homeward-bound trip, which would pay him for a couple of months' service, thereby giving him a larger sum to carry to his family. as it would be several days before the train started, buffalo billy determined to enjoy a bear-hunt, and mounting his favorite horse, the roan he had captured from the indian chief, he set out for the foot-hills of laramie peak. after a day of pleasure, in which he had shot considerable game, such as deer, antelope and sage hens, but not a bear, he camped for the night in a pretty nook upon one of the mountain streams. hardly had he fastened his roan and begun to build a fire, by which to cook his supper, when he was startled by the neigh of a horse up in the mountains. instantly he sprung to his horse, and, by his hand over his nostrils, prevented him from giving an answering whinny, while he stood in silence listening, for he knew that he might rather expect to see a foe there than a friend. as the neigh was once more repeated, buffalo billy resaddled his horse, hitched him so that he could be easily unfastened, and, with his rifle started cautiously on foot up the stream. he had not gone far when in a little glen he beheld nearly half a hundred horses grazing and lariated out. this was a surprise to him, and he was most cautious indeed, for he was convinced that they belonged to some prowling band of indians. presently, up the mountain further, he caught sight of a sudden light, and his keen eye detected that a man's form had momentarily appeared and then all was darkness once more. on he went in the direction of the light, going as noiselessly as a panther creeping upon its prey, until presently he dimly discovered the outline of a small cabin, built back against the precipitous side of an overhanging hill. hearing voices, and recognizing that they were white men, he stepped boldly forward and knocked at the door. instantly there followed a dead silence within, and again he knocked. "who is there?" asked a gruff voice. "a pard." "come in, pard." billy obeyed. but instantly he regretted it, for his eyes fell upon a dozen villainous-looking fellows, several of whom he recognized as having seen loafing at the overland stations, and who were considered all that was bad. "who are you?" asked one who appeared to be the leader. "i am bill cody, a stage driver on the overland, and i came up here on a bear-hunt." "you're a healthy looking stage driver, you are, when you are nothing more than a boy." "yes, bob, he tells ther truth, fer i hes seen him handle ther ribbons, and he does it prime too; he are the pony rider who they calls buff'ler billy," said another of the gang. "ther devil yer say: waal, i has heerd o' him as a greased terror, an' he looks it; but who's with yer, young pard?" "i am alone." "it hain't likely." "but i am." "yer must be durned fond o' b'ar-meat ter come up here alone." "i am." "waal, did yer get yer b'ar?" "no." "whar's yer critter?" "my horse is down the mountain." "i'll go arter him," said one suspiciously; but billy answered quickly: "oh, no, i'll not trouble you; but if i can leave my rifle here, i'll go after him." "all right, pard; but i guesses two of us better go with yer fer comp'ny, as we loves ter be sociable." buffalo billy well knew now that he was in a nest of horse-thieves and desperadoes; but he dared not show his suspicions, as he felt assured they would kill him without the slightest compunction. so he said pleasantly: "well, come along, for it is pleasanter to have company, and i'll stay with you to-night if you'll let me." "oh, yes, we'll let yer stay, fer we is awful social in our notions. here ben, you and tabor go with my young pard and bring his horse up to the corral." the two assigned for this duty were the very worst looking of the band, as far as villainous faces went; but buffalo billy's quick brain had already formed a plan of escape, and he was determined to carry it out. down the hill they went until they came to the horse, and both eyed his fine points, as dimly seen in the darkness, with considerable pleasure, while one muttered: "the cap will be sure to fancy him." "there is a string of game that might come in well for supper," said billy, as he pointed to a dark object on the ground. "they will, fer sure," was the eager answer, and the man stooped to pick up the game when billy suddenly dealt him a blow that felled him to the earth. at the same time he wheeled upon the other, who already had his hand upon his revolver, and before he could fire, his own finger touched the trigger, and the desperado fell. bounding into his saddle he turned his horse down the mountain side, just as the door of the cabin was thrown open and he saw the band streaming out from their den, alarmed by the shot. in hot pursuit they rushed down the mountain side, and for a short while gained upon billy, for he dared not urge his horse rapidly down the steep hillside. but once in the valley and the roan bounded forward at a swift pace, and not a moment too soon, for the revolver shots began to rattle, and the bullets to fly uncomfortably near. on, at a swift gait the roan went, and though billy heard the clatter of hoofs in chase, he had no fear, as he well knew the speed of the animal he rode. after a few miles' pursuit the desperadoes gave up the chase and returned toward the mountains, while buffalo billy urged the roan on, and a couple of hours before dawn he reached the station, roused the men, and in fifteen minutes two score horsemen were on the way to the mountains, led by the boy, though alf slade himself went in command of the company. but though they found the dug-out, and the grave of the man billy had killed, the birds had flown, leaving one of their number in his last resting place to mark the visit of the youth to the desperadoes' den. chapter xx. a mad ride. back to his home in kansas went buffalo billy, to cheer the heart of his mother and sisters by his presence, and win their admiration by his rapid growth into a handsome manly youth. to please those who so dearly loved him he again attended school for a couple of months; but with the first wagon-train bound west he went as hunter, and arriving in the vicinity of the overland again sought service as a stage-driver, and was gladly accepted and welcomed back. he had been driving but a short time after his return, when he carried east on one trip a coach load of english tourists, whose baggage loaded down the stage. although he was driving at the average regulation speed, to make time at each station, the englishmen were growling all the time at the slow pace they were going and urging billy to push ahead. billy said nothing, other than that he was driving according to orders, and which was, by the way, by no means a slow gait, and then listened to their growling in silence, while they were anathematizing everything in america, as is often the case with foreigners who come to this country. billy heard their remarks about the "bloody 'eathen in hamerica," "the greatness of hall things hin hingland," "slow horses," "bad drivers," and all such talk, and drove calmly on into horsehoe. there the horses were changed, and the six hitched to the coach were wild pony express animals that had been only partially broken in as a stage team, which billy delighted in driving. as they were being hitched up buffalo billy smiled grimly, and said: "i'll show those gents that we know how to drive in this country," and those who knew him could see the twinkle of deviltry in his eyes. at last, the englishmen, having dined, took their seats, billy gave the order to let the animals go, and they started off at a rapid pace. but billy reined them down until they reached the top of the hill, and then, with a wild yell, that suddenly silenced the grumbling of the englishmen, he let the six horses bound forward, while with utter recklessness he threw the reins upon their backs. frightened, maddened by the lash he laid upon them, they went down the mountain at a terrific speed, the coach swaying wildly to and fro, and the englishmen nearly frightened out of their wits. glancing out of the windows and up at billy they called to him to stop for the sake of heaven. but he only laughed, and tearing the large lamps from the coach threw them at the leaders, the blows, and the jingling of glass frightening them fearfully. "for god's sake stop, driver!" "he is mad!" "we'll all be killed!" "stop! stop!" such was the chorus of cries that came from the coach, and in reply was heard the calm response: "don't get excited, gents; but sit still and see how we stage it in the rocky mountains." then, to add still greater terror to the flying team and the frightened passengers, billy drew his revolver from his belt and began to fire it in the air. as the station came in sight, the man on duty saw the mad speed of the horses and threw open the stable doors, and in they dashed dragging the stage after them, and tearing off the top, but not hurting billy, who had crouched down low in the boot. the passengers were not so lucky, however, for the sudden shook of halt sent them forward, in a heap and the arm of one of them was broken, while the others were more or less bruised. a canvas top was tacked on, the coach was run out, and a fresh team hitched up, and billy sung out: "all aboard, gents!" but he went on with an empty coach, for the englishmen preferred to wait over for another driver, and one of them was heard to remark that he would rather go in a hearse than in a stage with such a madman holding the reins. but far and wide billy's mad ride was laughed at, and he received no reprimand from the company, though he richly deserved it. chapter xxi. winning a reward. driving over the trail through the rocky mountains, the drivers were constantly annoyed by road-agents, whose daring robberies made it most dangerous for a coach to pass over the line. if the driver did not obey their stern command: "halt! up with your hands!" he was certain to be killed, and the passenger within who offered the slightest resistance to being robbed, was sure to have his life end just there. so dangerous had it become to drive the mountain passes, as several drivers had been shot, the company found it difficult to get men to carry the stages through, and offered double wages to any one who had the courage to drive over the road-agents dominions. buffalo billy at once volunteered for the perilous work, and his first trip through he met with no resistance. the next he was halted, and promptly obeying the order to throw up his hands, he was not molested, though the gold-box was taken from the coach, and all the passengers were robbed. after this it was almost a daily occurrence for the road-agents to rob a stage-coach, and the overland company offered a reward of five thousand dollars for the capture of their chief and the band. one day billy drove away from the station with a coach full of women, not a single man having the pluck to go, and promptly, at their favorite place, the road-agents appeared. "halt! up with your hands!" with military promptitude buffalo billy obeyed, and putting on the california brakes, he drew his horses to a stand-still. "well, what have you got to-day that's worthy our picking, my boy driver?" said the road-agent leader approaching the coach. "only women, and i beg you not to be brute enough to scare 'em," said billy. "oh! they must pay toll; and they generally have good watches; but what is it, a woman's rights meeting, or a seminary broke loose?' "ask 'em," was the quiet reply, and as the leader of the road-agents, closely followed by his half-dozen men, all in masks, rode up to the stage door, billy suddenly drew his revolver and with the flash the chief fell dead. "out, boys!" yelled billy, and the stage doors flew open, dresses and bonnets were cast aside, and nine splendid fellows began a rapid fire upon the amazed road-agents. one or two managed to escape; but that was all, for after four of their number had fallen, the balance were glad enough to cry for quarter, which was shown them only until a rope could be thrown over the limb of a tree and they drawn up to expiate their crimes by hanging. it was billy's little plot, and he got the larger part of the reward, and the credit of ridding the country of a daring band of desperate men. shortly after this bold act, hearing of the continued failing health of his mother, buffalo billy, like the dutiful son he was, once more resigned his position as stage-driver, and returned to kansas, arriving there a few months after the breaking out of the civil war in 1861. chapter xxii. the boy soldier. after a very short stay at home buffalo billy began to show signs of uneasiness, for he was too near leavenworth, then an important military post, not to get the soldier's fever for battles and marches. he soon discovered that a company of cavalry was being raised to do service in missouri, and he at once enlisted and went as a guard to a government train bound to springfield, missouri, and after that he was made a dispatch runner to the different forts, and met with many thrilling adventures while in that capacity. from this duty buffalo billy was sent as guide and scout to the ninth kansas regiment which was ordered into the kiowa and comanche country, and it did good service there, and the young soldier added new laurels to his name. the second year of the war billy became one of the famous "red legged scouts," formed of the most noted rangers of kansas. while a member of this daring band he was sent to guide a train to denver, but upon arriving there, learning of the severe illness of his mother, he at once set off for home, going the entire distance alone and making wonderful time through a country infested with dangers. to his joy, he found his mother still living, yet failing rapidly, and soon after his arrival she breathed her last and buffalo billy had lost his best, truest friend, and the sad event cast a gloom over the life of the young soldier. as one of his sisters had married some time before, her husband took charge of the farm, while billy returned to the army and was sent into mississippi and tennessee with his command. but billy did not relish military duty, for he had become too well accustomed to the free life of the plains, and, resigning his position as scout, started upon his return to the prairies. but while on the way he came in sight of a pleasant farm-house, from which came a cry of help in the voice of a woman. billy saw five horses hitched to a fence on the other side of the house; but this array of numbers did not deter him when a woman called for aid, and dismounting quickly he bounded upon the piazza, and was just running into the door when a man came out into the hall and fired at him, but fortunately missed him. bill instantly returned the fire, and his quick, unerring aim sent a bullet into the man's brain. at the shots a wilder cry came from within for help and two men dashed out into the hall, and, seeing billy, three pistols flashed together. but billy was unhurt, and one of his foes fell dead, while springing upon the other he gave him a stunning blow with his revolver that put him out of the fight, and then bounded into the room to discover an elderly lady and a lovely young girl threatened by two huge ruffians, who were holding their pistols to their heads to try and force from them the hiding-place of their money and valuables. seeing billy, they both turned upon him, and a fierce fight ensued, which quickly ended in the killing of both ruffians by the brave young soldier, who seemed to bear a charmed life, for he was unhurt, though he had slain four men in a desperate combat and wounded a fifth. just then into the room dashed three men, and their weapons were leveled at buffalo billy, and right then and there his days would have ended had it not been for the courage and presence of mind of the lovely young girl, who threw herself forward upon his breast, to the youth's great surprise, and cried out: "father! brothers! don't fire, for this man is our friend." the old man and his sons quickly lowered their rifles, while the former said: "a friend in blue uniform, while we wear the gray?' "i am a union soldier, sir, i admit, and i was going by your home, heard a cry for help, and found your wife and daughter, as i suppose them to be, at the mercy of five ruffians, and i was fortunate enough to serve them. "but i will not be made prisoner, gentlemen." billy's hands were on his revolvers and he looked squarely in the faces of those in his front, and they could see that he was a man who meant what he said. "my dear sir, i am a confederate, i admit, and this is my home; but i am not the one to do a mean action toward a union soldier, and especially one who has just served me so well in killing these men, whom i recognize as jay-hawkers, who prey on either side, and own no allegiance to north or south. "here is my hand, sir, and i will protect you while in our lines." billy grasped the hand of the farmer, and then those of his sons, and all thanked him warmly for the service he had done them. but billy was surprised to find he was within the confederate lines, and found by inquiring that he had taken the wrong road a few miles back. the farmer was the captain of a neighborhood military company, and it was his custom to come home with his sons whenever he had opportunity, and arriving just as the fight ended he saw a man in gray uniform lying dead in the hall, and beholding billy in the blue, had an idea that the northern soldiers were on a raid, had been met by some of his men, and he certainly would have killed the young scout but for the timely act of his lovely daughter, louise. and it was this very circumstance, the meeting with louise frederici, the missouri farmer's daughter, that caused buffalo billy to decide to remain in the army, and not to return to the plains, for when stationed in or near st. louis, he could often see the pretty dark-eyed girl who had stolen his heart away. before the war ended buffalo billy returned to kansas, but he carried with him the heart of louise frederici, and the promise that she would one day be his wife. after a short visit to his sisters he again became a stage-driver, and it was by making a desperate drive down a mountain side to escape a band of road-agents that he won the well-deserved title of the prince of the reins. chapter xxiii. in fetters. all the time that buffalo bill was driving stage his thoughts were turning to dark-eyed pretty louise frederici in her pleasant missouri home, and at last he became so love-sick that he determined to pay her a visit and ask her to marry him at once. he was no longer a boy in size, but a tall, elegantly-formed man, though his years had not yet reached twenty-one. he had saved up some money, and off to missouri he started, and his strangely-handsome face, superb form and comely manners were admired wherever he went, and people wondered who he was, little dreaming they were gazing upon a man who had been a hero since his eighth year. he soon won louise over to his way of thinking, by promising he would settle down, and they were married at farmer frederici's home and started on their way, by a missouri steamer, to kansas. arriving at leavenworth, buffalo bill and his bride received a royal welcome from his old friends, and they were escorted to their new home, where for awhile the young husband did "settle down." but at last, finding he could make more money on the plains, and that being to his liking, he left his wife with his sisters and once more started for the far west, this time as a government scout at fort ellsworth. chapter xxiv. seeing service. it was while in the capacity of scout at fort barker and fort hayes that buffalo bill added to his fame as an indian-fighter, scout and guide, for almost daily he met with thrilling adventures, while his knowledge of the country enabled him to guide commands from post to post with the greatest of ease and without following a trail, but by taking a straight course across prairie or hill-land. while in the vicinity of hayes city buffalo bill had a narrow escape from capture, with a party that was under his guidance; in fact death would very suddenly have followed the capture of all. a party of officers and their wives, well mounted and armed, were determined not to go with the slow wagon-train from one fort to the other, and accordingly buffalo bill was engaged to guide them. he made known to them the great dangers of the trip, but they being determined, the party started, some dozen in all. for awhile all went well, but then buffalo bill discovered signs of indians, and hardly had the discovery been made when a large force, over two hundred in number, came in sight and gave chase. of course the party were terribly alarmed, and regretted their coming without on escort of soldiers. but buffalo bill said quietly: "you are all well mounted, so ride straight on, and don't push too fast, or get separated." "and you, cody?" asked an officer. "oh, i'll be along somewhere; but i've got a new gun, a sixteen-shooter, and i want to try just what it will do." the indians were now not more than half a mile away and coming on at full speed, with wild yells and whoops, confident of making a splendid capture. directing the officers what course to take, buffalo bill saw them start off at full speed while he remained quietly seated upon his splendid horse brigham, a steed that equaled sable satan for speed and endurance. it was evident that the red-skins were surprised at beholding a single horseman standing so calmly in their path, and awaiting their coming, and the party in flight looked back in great alarm as they saw that buffalo bill did not move, appearing like a bronze statue of horse and rider. "what could it mean?" "was he mad?" and many more were the comments made by the party, while the indians were equally as inquisitive upon the subject. nearer and nearer came the rushing band, for what had two hundred mounted warriors to fear from one man? nearer and nearer, until presently buffalo bill was seen to raise his rifle, and a perfect stream of fire seemed to flow out of the muzzle, while the shots came in rapid succession. it was a winchester repeating rifle, and buffalo bill had been testing it thoroughly. and the result was such that the indians drew rein, for down in the dust had gone several of their number, while half a dozen ponies had been killed by the shots; in fact, fired into the crowded mass of men and horses, nearly every discharge had done harm. with a wild, defiant war-cry, buffalo bill wheeled and rode away, loading his matchless rifle as he ran. it did not take long for brigham to over-take the horses in advance, and warm congratulations followed, for the officers and ladies had seen the daring scout check the entire band of red-skins. but though temporarily stunned by the effects of the shots, for the indians had not seen repeating rifles in those days, they soon rallied and came on once more at full speed. and again did the scout drop behind and await their coming, to once more administer upon the amazed warriors a check that made them more cautious, for they kept out of range. yet they kept up the chase all day, and only drew off when the fort came in view, and the party arrived in safety in its walls. chapter xxv. capturing a herd of ponies. while at the fort the colonel in command complained at the non-arrival of a drove of government horses, as he was anxious to make a raid into the indian country, and buffalo bill volunteered to go and hurry the cattle on. he had been gone but a few hours from the fort when he crossed a trail which he knew to have been made by a large indian village on the move. cautiously he followed it, and just at sunset came in sight of the camp, pitched at the head of a valley, and saw below a large herd of horses grazing. to return to the fort for aid he knew would take too long, so he determined to make an attempt to capture the herd himself, and, with his field-glass carefully reconnoitered the surroundings as long as it was light. he saw that the nature of the valley was such that the herd could only escape by two ways, one through the indian village and the other at the lower end, where he had observed four warriors placed as a guard and herders. "that is my quartette," he said to himself, and mounting brigham he began to make his way around to the lower end of the valley. after an hour's ride he gained the desired point, and then set down to work. carrying with him in case of need a complete indian costume, he was not long in rigging himself up in it and painting his face. then he left brigham in a canyon near by and cautiously approached the entrance to the valley, which was not more than two hundred yards wide at this point. peering through the darkness he saw the four dark objects, about equal distances apart, which he knew were the ponies of the four warriors on guard, and that they were lying down near in the grass he felt confident. getting past the line of herders he boldly advanced toward the one nearest the hill on the left, and knew he would be taken for some chief coming from the village and accordingly not dreaded. it was just as he had expected: the indian herder saw him coming directly from the village, as he believed and did not even rise from the grass as buffalo bill drew near. with a word in sioux buffalo bill advanced and suddenly threw himself upon the prostrate warrior. there was a short struggle, but no cry, as the scout's hand grasped the red-skin's throat, and then all was still, the indian pony lariated near, not even stopping his grazing. throwing the red-skin's blanket over his body, buffalo bill moved away a few paces to where the pony stood, and called to the next herder in the sioux tongue to come to him. the unsuspecting warrior obeyed, and the next instant found himself in a gripe of iron and a knife blade piercing his heart. "this is red work, but it is man to man and in a few days the whole band would make a strike upon the settlements," muttered the scout, as he moved slowly toward the position his enemy had left at his call. as he reached the spot he saw the third warrior standing on his post and boldly walked up to him, when again the same short, fierce, silent fight followed and buffalo bill arose from the ground a victor. the fourth, and only remaining guard he knew was over under the shadow of the hill, and thither he went. arriving near he did not see him, and looking around suddenly discovered him asleep at the foot of a tree. "i'd like to let you sleep, mr. red-skin, but you'd wake up at the wrong time, so you must follow your comrades to the happy hunting-grounds," he muttered, as he bent over and seized the throat of the indian in his powerful gripe. the warrior was almost a giant in size, and he made a fierce fight for his life. but the iron hold on his throat did not relax, and at last his efforts ceased and his grasp upon the scout, which had been so great he could not use his knife, weakened and there was no more show of resistance. then not an instant did buffalo bill tarry, but went up the valley, rounded up the herd of horses and quickly drove them away from the village, in which he knew slept half a thousand warriors. slowly he moved the large brute mass, and they went toward the mouth of the valley and were soon out upon the prairie. then mounting brigham he urged them on until out of hearing of the camp, when he headed them for the fort. it was a hard drive and taxed both brigham and his rider fearfully; but at last the herd was driven to a good grazing place a few miles from the fort and buffalo bill left them and rode rapidly on, and just at dawn reported his valuable capture and that the same horses could be used in an attack upon the indian camp. the colonel at once acted upon his suggestion; the cavalrymen who had no horses, loaded with their saddles, bridles and arms, went at a quick march to the grazing place of the horses, and ere the day was three hours old three hundred men were mounted and on the trail for the red-skin village, while the remainder of the ponies were driven to the fort. deprived of the greater part of their horses, the red-skins could march but slowly; but they were in full retreat when buffalo bill led the command in sight of them, and though the dismounted warriors fought bravely, they were severely whipped and all their village equipage captured or destroyed, while instead of attacking the white settlements as they had intended, they were glad enough to beg for relief. this gallant act made the name of buffalo bill, or pa-e-has-ka (long hair), as they called him, known to every indian on the north-west border, and they regarded him with the greatest terror, while it made him an idol among the soldiers. chapter xxvi. the champion of the plains. as buffalo bill was known to be the most successful hunter on the prairies, shortly after his capture of the herd of indian ponies he received an offer from the kansas pacific railroad company to keep their workmen supplied with meat, and the terms allowed him were so generous that he felt he owed it to his family, for he had become the father of a lovely little daughter, arta, born in leavenworth, to accept the proposition, and did so. the employees of the road numbered some twelve hundred, and buffalo bill's duty was to supply them with fresh meat, a most arduous task, and a dangerous one, for the indians were constantly upon the war-path. but he undertook the work, and it was but a very short while before his fame as a buffalo-killer equaled his reputation as an indian-fighter, and often on a hunt for the shaggy brutes, he had to fight the red savages who constantly sought his life. it was during his service for the kansas pacific that he was rechristened buffalo bill, and he certainly deserved the renewal of his name, as in one season he killed the enormous number of _four thousand eight hundred and twenty buffaloes_, a feat never before, or since equaled. and during this time, in the perils he met with, and his numerous hair-breadth escapes, in conflict with red-skins, horse-thieves and desperadoes, it is estimated that over a score of human beings fell before his unerring rifle and revolvers, while, he still bearing a charmed life, received only a few slight wounds. chapter xxvii. the champion. some time after his great feat of killing buffalo for the kansas pacific, buffalo bill was challenged by billy comstock, another famous buffalo-hunter, and a scout and indian interpreter, to a match at killing the shaggy wild animals. those who knew comstock and had seen him among a herd of buffalo, and had heard of buffalo bill's exploits, were most desirous of making a match between the two to discover which was the best "killer." on the other side, those who knew buffalo bill and had seen him at work at the buffaloes, were willing to bet high that he would prove the champion. as the men were not only willing, but anxious to meet, it was not difficult for them to do so, and all preliminaries were satisfactorily arranged to all parties concerned. the men were to, of course, hunt on horse-back, and to begin at a certain hour in the morning and keep it up for eight hours, a large herd having just been found and its locality marked for the day of the sport. the stakes were made five hundred dollars a side, and there were numbers, both ladies and gentlemen, out on horseback to see the sport. the herd having been located early the next morning, the two hunters left for the field, and the large crowd followed at a distance. the counters, those chosen to follow each hunter and count his killed, followed close behind bill and comstock, who rode side by side, chatting in a most friendly way until the herd was sighted. buffalo bill was mounted upon brigham, a noted buffalo horse, and he was armed with a breech-loading springfield rifle, and a weapon which had sent many a red-skin to the happy hunting-grounds. comstock was also splendidly mounted, and carried his favorite buffalo repeating rifle, and both men felt confident of victory. reaching the herd, the two hunters, followed by their counters, well mounted also, dashed into a herd, and it quickly divided, giving each one an opportunity to show his skill, as though the buffaloes themselves sympathized with the match and were willing to do all in their power to forward it. in his first run buffalo bill killed thirty-eight, while in the same length of time billy comstock dropped twenty-three, which gave the former the advantage thus far. a rest was then called for both horses and men, and once more they started out for the second run, a small herd appearing opportunely in sight. in this run buffalo bill's tally was eighteen to comstock's fourteen, and another halt was made for rest and refreshments. when called to the scratch for the third run, buffalo bill, knowing he had the best buffalo horse in the country, stripped him of saddle and bridle and sprung upon his bare back. a third herd was looked up, and the two killers began their work with a will, and buffalo bill sailed to the front with thirteen, which gave him a list of sixty-nine to comstock's forty-six. the third run closed the match, and buffalo bill was proclaimed the winner and the champion buffalo-killer of the prairies. chapter xxviii. a game for life and death. having concluded his engagement with the kansas pacific railroad, buffalo bill once more became a government scout, and it was while serving on the far border that he won the hatred of a notorious band of desperadoes whom he had several times thwarted in their intended crimes. hearing that they had said they would kill him at sight, he boldly rode into the town where they had their haunts, and, true to their word, two of them came out and attacked him. at the first shot bill was wounded in the right arm, which destroyed his aim, and, ere he could draw a revolver with his left hand, his horse fell dead beneath him, pinning him to the ground. instantly his foes rushed upon him to complete their work, when, rising on his wounded arm, he leveled his revolver with his left hand and shot them down as they were almost upon him. an army officer who witnessed the affray was so much pleased with the nerve of buffalo bill that he presented him with a splendid horse, one of a pair he had just received from the east, and having had his wound dressed the scout rode back to camp delighted with his present. but the leader of the desperado band still swore to kill buffalo bill, and to pick a quarrel with him one night in a saloon, boldly dared him to play him a game of cards. "yes, you accursed thief and murderer, i'll play you a game of cards if you will let me name the stakes," said buffalo bill. "all right, name what you please, so you play," was the answer, and the crowd gathered eagerly around, confident that there would be trouble. "i'll name life and death as the stakes," said buffalo bill. "what do you mean?" "i mean that if you win the game i'll stand ten paces away and give you a shot at me; if i win, you are to give me a shot at you." the desperado did not like this arrangement, but having challenged buffalo bill to play, and given him the choice of the stakes, he dared not back down, and said: "all right, let us begin." "mind you, no cheating, for i shall shoot you the moment i catch you at it." "two can play at that game, buffalo bill," said the desperado, and seating themselves at the table the game was begun, each man having his revolver lying by his side. buffalo bill was calm and smiling, for he had confidence in his universal good luck to win. the desperado was pale and stern, and played warily, for he saw the eye of his foe watching him like a hawk. once bill dropped his hand upon his revolver and his adversary attempted to do the same; but the scout was too quick for him and merely said: "beware, for if i catch you cheating, i will kill you." "who's cheating, buffalo bill?" "you were about to make an attempt to do so; but i warn you," was the calm reply. then, in breathless silence the game went on, and buffalo bill won. instantly the desperado seized his revolver, but he felt against his head the cold muzzle of a weapon, and heard the stern tones: "bent, i guess i'll save buffalo bill from killing you, by hanging you to the nearest tree." the speaker was wild bill, who had stood behind the chair of the desperado. all knew him, and that he was an officer of the law, and would keep his word. buffalo bill said nothing, and the crime-stained wretch was dragged out of the saloon, a rope put around his neck, and he was hanged for his many red deeds, thereby escaping death at the hands of the scout. chapter xxix. bill's story of his becoming an actor. as buffalo bill in the past few years has become known as an actor, and appears as such with his dramatic combination, during the winter months, when he is not on the plains, it will not be by any means uninteresting to my readers to learn how he came to go upon the stage, and the story i give in his own words, in relating his experience to a reporter who had called upon him for some jottings regarding his life. he said: "it was in the fall of '71, that general sheridan came to the plains with a party of gentlemen for the purpose of engaging in a buffalo-hunt, to extend from fort mcpherson, nebraska, to fort hayes, kansas, on the kansas pacific railroad, a distance of 228 miles, through the finest hunting country in the world. in the party were james gordon bennett of the new york _herald_, lawrence and leonard jerome, carl livingstone, s.g. heckshire, general fitzhugh of pittsburg, general anson stager of the western union telegraph company, and other noted gentlemen. i guided the party, and when the hunt was finished, i received an invitation from them to go to new york and make them a visit, as they wanted to show me the east, as i had shown them the west. i was then chief of scouts in the department of the platte. and in january, 1872, just after the grand duke alexis's hunt, which, by the way, i organized, i got a leave of absence, and for the first time in my life found myself east of the mississippi river. "stopping at chicago two days, where i was the guest of general sheridan, i proceeded to new york, where i was shown the 'elephant.' during my visit i attended the performance at the bowery theater, in company with colonel e.z.c. judson (ned buntline), and witnessed a dramatization of judson's story, entitled 'buffalo bill, king of border men.' the part of 'buffalo bill' was impersonated by j.b. studley, an excellent actor, and i must say the fellow looked like me, as his make-up was a perfect picture of myself. i had not watched myself very long before the audience discovered that the original buffalo bill was in the private box, and they commenced cheering, which stopped the performance, and they would not cease until i had shown myself and spoken a few words. "at that time i had no idea of going on the stage, such a thought having never entered my head. but some enterprising managers, believing there was money in me, offered me as high as $1,000 per week to go on the stage. i told them i would rather face 1,000 indians than attempt to open my mouth before all those people. i returned to my duties as a scout, and during the summer of 1872 ned buntline was constantly writing to me to come east and go on the stage, offering large inducements. as scouting business was a little dull, i concluded to try it for awhile, and started east in company with texas jack. met buntline in chicago with a company ready to support me. "we were to open in chicago in nixon's amphitheater on december 16th, 1872. i arrived in chicago december 12th, 1872. we were driven to the theater, where i was introduced to jim nixon, who said, 'mr. buntline, give me your drama, as i am ready to cast your piece, and we have no time to lose, if you are to open monday, and these men who have never been on the stage will require several rehearsals.' buntline surprised us all by saying that he had not written the drama yet, but would do so at once. mr. nixon said, 'no drama! and this is thursday. well, i will cancel your date.' but buntline was not to be balked in this way, and asked nixon what he would rent the theater one week for. 'one thousand dollars,' said nixon. 'it's my theater,' said buntline, making out a check for the amount. he rushed to the hotel, secured the services of several clerks to copy the parts, and in four hours had written 'the scouts of the prairie.' he handed texas jack and i our parts, told us to commit them to memory and report next morning for rehearsal. i looked at jack's and then at my part. jack looked at me and said, 'bill, how long will it take you to commit your part?' 'about seven years, if i have good luck.' buntline said, 'go to work.' i studied hard, and next morning recited the lines, cues and all, to buntline. buntline said, 'you must not recite cues; they are for you to speak from--the last words of the persons who speak before you.' i said, 'cues be d--d; i never heard of anything but a billiard cue.' "well, night came. the house was packed. up went the curtain. buntline appeared as cale durg, an old trapper, and at a certain time jack and i were to come on. but we were a little late, and when i made my appearance, facing 3,000 people, among them general sheridan and a number of army officers, it broke me all up and i could not remember a word. all that saved me was my answer to a question put by buntline. he asked, 'what detained you?' i told him i had been on a hunt with milligan. you see milligan was a prominent chicago gentleman who had been hunting with me a short time before on the plains, and had been chased by the indians, and the papers had been full of his hunt for some time; buntline saw that i was 'up a stump,' for i had forgotten my lines, and he told me to tell him about the hunt. i told the story in a very funny way, and it took like wild-fire with the audience. "while i was telling the story, buntline had whispered to the stage manager that when i got through with my story to send on the indians. presently buntline sung out: 'the indians are upon us.' now this was 'pie' for jack and i, and we went at those bogus indians red hot until we had killed the last one and the curtain went down amid a most tremendous applause, while the audience went wild. the other actors never got a chance to appear in the first act. buntline said, 'go ahead with the second act, it's going splendid.' i think that during the entire performance, neither jack nor myself spoke a line of our original parts. but the next morning the press said it was the best show ever given in chicago, as it was so bad it was good, and they could not see what buntline was doing all the time if it took him four hours to write that drama. "our business was immense all that season, and if we had been managed properly we would have each made a small fortune. as it was i came out $10,000 ahead. in june, 1873, i returned to the plains, came east again in the fall, this time my own manager. i got a company, took the noted 'wild bill' with me, but could not do much with him as he was not an easy man to handle, and would insist on shooting the supers in the legs with powder, just to see them jump. he left a few months later and returned to the plains. he was killed in august, 1876, in deadwood. "in the summer of 1876 i was chief of scouts under general carr, afterward with general crook and general terry. "on the 17th of july i killed yellow hand, a noted cheyenne chief, and took the first scalp for custer. i returned to the stage in october, 1876, and during the season of 1876 and 1879 i cleared $38,000. i have generally been successful financially on the stage. i am now in the cattle business in nebraska, to which place i will return as soon as the season is over, providing nothing serious occurs to call me home earlier." chapter xxx. the yellow hand duel. as buffalo bill, in the foregoing chapter speaks of his killing yellow hand, the celebrated cheyenne chief, who was greatly feared by his own people, and a terror to the whites, i will give an account of that tragic duel between a white man and two indians, for another chief also rode down and attacked the noted scout, after his red comrade had fallen. when the indian war of 1876 broke out buffalo bill at 01:00 closed his dramatic season, and started post haste for the west, having received a telegram from general e.a. carr asking for his services as scout in the coming campaign. he joined the command at fort d.a. russell, where the famous fifth cavalry regiment was then in camp, and arriving received a boisterous welcome from his old comrades, who felt that, with buffalo bill as chief of scouts, they would surely have warm work with the indians. the fifth cavalry was at once ordered to operate in scouting the country on the south fork of the cheyenne and to the foot of the black hills, and it was while driving the indians before them that the news came of custer's fatal fight with sitting bull on the little big horn. general merritt, who had superseded carr in command marched at once to the big horn country, and while _en route_ there came news of a large force of warriors moving down to join sitting bull. instantly five hundred picked men of the fifth started back by forced marches, and buffalo bill, splendidly mounted, kept on ahead of the command a couple of miles. discovering the indians, he at the same time beheld two horsemen whom he saw to be whites, riding along unconscious of the presence of foes. he knew that they must be scouts bearing dispatches, and at once determined to save them for they were riding in a direction down one valley that would bring them directly upon the red-skins, who had already seen them, and had sent a force of thirty warriors out to intercept them. instantly buffalo bill dashed over the ridge of the hill that concealed him from the view of the cheyennes, and rode directly toward the band going to attack the two white horsemen. they halted suddenly at sight of him, but, seeing that he was alone, they started for him with wild yells. but still he kept on directly toward them, until within range, when he opened upon them with his matchless evans rifle, a thirty-four-shot repeater, and a hot fight began, for they returned the fire. this was just what buffalo bill wanted, for the firing alarmed the horsemen and placed them on their guard, and he knew that the indian volleys would be heard at the command and hasten them forward. having dropped a couple of red-skins and several ponies, buffalo bill wheeled to the rightabout, dashed up to the top of a hill, and, signaling to the two whites to follow him, headed for the command at full speed. as he had anticipated, the two men were scouts with important dispatches for general merritt, and bill's bold act had not only saved their lives, but also the dispatches, and the result of it was that the fifth cavalry went at once into line of battle, while the cheyennes also formed for battle, though evidently surprised at being headed off at that point. but they saw that they were double the force of the whites, and were determined upon a fight, and their chiefs reconnoitered carefully their foes' strength and position. buffalo bill also volunteered to go out and get a closer look at them, to see what they were up to, and general merritt told him to do so, but not to venture too near and expose himself. as he left the line two indian horsemen also rode out from among their comrades, and one was some lengths in front of the other. at a glance buffalo bill saw that the two were full chiefs, and they had not advanced far toward each other when he discovered that he was the especial object of their attention. but though one halted, the other came on, and the scout and the chief came within a hundred yards of each other. then the indian cried out in his own tongue: "i know pa-e-has-ka the great white hunter and want to fight him." "then come on, you red devil, and have it out," shouted back buffalo bill, and forgetting general merritt's orders not to expose himself, and to the horror of the regiment, every man of whom saw him, as well as did the indians, he dashed at full speed toward the chief, who likewise, with a wild yell rode toward him. together both fired, the chief with his rifle, and buffalo bill with his revolver, and down dropped both horses. buffalo bill nimbly caught on his feet, while the indian was pinned by one leg under his horse, and with his war-cry the scout rushed upon him. as he advanced the chief succeeded in releasing his leg from beneath his horse and again fired, as did buffalo bill, and both of them with revolvers. the indian's bullet cut a slight gash in bill's arm, while he struck the red-skin in the leg, and the next instant sprung upon him with his knife, which both had drawn. the hand-to-hand fight was hardly five seconds in duration, and buffalo bill had driven his knife into the broad red breast, and then tore from his head the scalp and feather war-bonnet, and waving it over his head, shouted in ringing tones: "_bravo! the first scalp to avenge custer!_" a shout of warning from the cavalry caused him to turn quickly and he beheld the second chief riding down upon him at full speed. but bill turned upon him, and a shot from his revolver got him another scalp. but hardly had he stooped to tear it from the skull, when the indians, with wildest yells, charged upon him. they were nearer to him than was the regiment, and it looked bad for buffalo bill; but the gallant fifth charged in splendid style, met the indians in a savage fight, and then began to drive them in wild confusion, and pushed them back into the agency a sorely whipped body of cheyennes, and grieving over heavy losses. upon reaching the agency buffalo bill learned that the two indians he had killed in the duel were yellow hand and red knife, and cut nose, the father of the former swore some day to have the scout's scalp. but buffalo bill laughed lightly at this threat, evidently believing the old adage that "a threatened man is long lived." chapter xxxi. conclusion. having gone over many of the thrilling scenes in the life of w.f. cody, buffalo bill, from boyhood to manhood, and shown what indomitable pluck he possesses, and the pinnacle of fame he has reached unaided, and by his own exertions and will, i can only now say that much remains to be told of his riper years, from the time he stepped across the threshold from youth to man's estate, for since then his life has been one long series of perilous adventures which, though tinged with romance, and seeming fiction, will go down to posterity as true border history of this most remarkable man, the truly called king of prairiemen. the end. * * * * * half-dime singer's library 1 whoa, emma! and 59 other songs. 2 captain cuff and 57 other songs. 3 the gainsboro' hat and 62 other songs. 4 johnny morgan and 60 other songs. 5 i'll strike you with a feather and 62 others, 6 george the charmer and 56 other songs. 7 the belle of rockaway and 52 other songs. 8 young fellah, you're too fresh and 60 others. 9 shy young girl and 65 other songs. 10 i'm the governor's only son and 58 other songs. 11 my fan and 65 other songs. 12 comin' thro' the rye and 55 other songs. 13 the rollicking irishman and 59 other songs. 14 old dog tray and 62 other songs. 15 whoa, charlie and 59 other songs. 16 in this wheat by and by and 62 other songs. 17 nancy lee and 58 other songs. 18 i'm the boy that's bound to blaze and 57 others. 19 the two orphans and 59 other songs. 20 what are the wild waves saying, sister? and 59 other songs. 21 indignant polly wog and 59 other songs. 22 the old arm-chair and 58 other songs. 23 on coney island beach and 58 other songs. 24 old simon, the hot-corn man and 60 others. 25 i'm in love and 56 other songs. 26 parade of the guards and 56 other songs. 27 yo, heave, ho! and 60 other songs. 28 'twill never do to gib it up so and 60 others. 29 blue bonnets over the border and 54 others, 30 the merry laughing man and 56 other songs. 31 sweet forget-me-not and 55 other songs. 32 leetle baby mine and 53 other songs. 33 de banjo am de instrument for me and 53 others. 34 taffy and 50 other songs. 35 just to please the boys and 52 other songs. 36 skating on one in the gutter and 52 others. 37 kolored kranks and 59 other songs. 38 nil desperandum and 53 other songs. 39 the girl i left behind me and 50 other songs. 40 'tis but a little faded flower and 50 others. 41 pretty whilhelmina and 60 other songs. 42 dancing in the barn and 68 other songs. 43 h.m.s. pinafore. complete, and 17 other songs. sold everywhere by newsdealers, at five cents per copy, or sent _post-paid_, to any address, on receipt of _six cents_ per number. beadle and adams, publishers, 96 william street, new york. produced from images generously made available by the internet archive.) the adventures of buffalo bill [illustration: he saw the feathered head of an indian poke over the bank before him.] the adventures of buffalo bill by col. william f. cody (buffalo bill) harper & row, publishers new york, evanston, and london _harper's young people's series_ new large type edition illustrated--jackets printed in colors toby tyler. by james otis mr. stubbs's brother. by james otis tim and tip. by james otis raising the pearl. by james otis adventures of buffalo bill. by w. f. cody diddie, dumps, and tot. by mrs. l. c. pyrnelle music and musicians. by lucy c. lillie the cruise of the canoe club. by w. l. alden the cruise of the "ghost." by w. l. alden moral pirates. by w. l. alden a new robinson crusoe. by w. l. alden the adventures of jimmy brown. by w. l. alden prince lazybones. by mrs. w. j. hays the flamingo feather. by kirk munroe derrick sterling. by kirk munroe chrystal, jack & co. by kirk munroe wakulla. by kirk munroe the ice queen. by ernest ingersoll the red mustang. by w. o. stoddard talking leaves. by w. o. stoddard two arrows. by w. o. stoddard the household of glen holly. by lucy c. lillie mildred's bargain. by lucy c. lillie nan. by lucy c. lillie rolf house. by lucy c. lillie the adventures of buffalo bill copyright 1904 by harper & brothers printed in the u.s.a. d-e contents page the adventures of buffalo bill i. crossing the plains 1 ii. rounding up indians 29 iii. pursuing the sioux 51 iv. my duel with yellow hand 76 the life of buffalo bill i. the little boy of the prairie 101 ii. little bill at school and at the traps 118 iii. the pony express rider 134 iv. "bill cody, the scout" 151 v. the indian campaigns with the army 160 vi. buffalo bill and his show 169 illustrations he saw the feathered head of an indian poke over the bank before him _frontispiece_ i disentangled myself and jumped behind the dead body of my horse _facing p._ 46 in the distance i saw a large herd of buffaloes which were being chased and fired at by twenty or thirty indians " 96 he looked up and saw indians in war paint standing inside the cave, gazing at him " 128 foreword with the death of william frederick cody, at denver on january 10, 1917, there passed away the last of that intrepid band of pathfinders who gave their lives to the taming of the west, a gallant company of brave men steadfastly pushing back the frontier year by year and mile by mile, and ceasing from their labors only when the young and vigorous life of the pacific states had been linked up for all time with the older civilization of the atlantic seaboard. the fame of colonel cody, or buffalo bill as he was popularly called, recalls that of daniel boone, davy crockett, and kit carson, but he cannot be said to rank with those earlier heroes in point of actual national service. he played no large part in the upbuilding of our continental empire. yet he was made of the same stern stuff, and, on his more circumscribed stage, he was a gallant and picturesque figure, a true superman of the brave old days. when, in 1883, cody gave up his roving life and organized the wild west show it meant that the wild west itself was gone for good and all. together with boone, crockett, and carson his life rounds out the century of continental occupation, counting from the year boone crossed the mountains into kentucky to the final completion of the union pacific railway. boone was born in pennsylvania and died in missouri; crockett was born west of the alleghanies, in tennessee, and died in texas; carson and cody were born west of the mississippi, and died in colorado. perhaps the most picturesque period in buffalo bill's life was his service as a rider in the service of the famous pony express just before the civil war. this was perhaps the most perilous job that a man could undertake, and young cody was barely fifteen years old. yet he had had previous experience in indian fighting and at the age of eleven he had killed his first indian. shortly afterward the civil war began and cody enlisted in the union army, serving as a scout. when the fighting was over he returned to the far west. the transcontinental railways were in process of construction, a romantic episode in american history fittingly depicted in the glowing pages of zane grey's _the u. p. trail_. the builders of the kansas pacific railroad wanted buffalo meat to feed their laborers and cody undertook the contract. in eighteen months (1867-68) he killed 4,280 buffaloes, and thereby earned his title of buffalo bill. in 1868 cody rejoined the army as scout and guide, and quickly made a reputation as a man of infinite endurance and daring. he was attached to general sheridan's headquarters at hays city, kansas; and soon after reporting for duty he learned that the commander wanted a dispatch sent to fort dodge, a distance of ninety-five miles. the indians had recently killed two or three dispatch riders on this route, and none of the scouts was anxious to take on the job. even a promised bonus of several hundred dollars found no takers. cody volunteered and made the dangerous trip in safety. but at fort dodge he found that the commanding officer there was very anxious to send dispatches to fort larned, and again the regular scouts shunned the task. on went buffalo bill to fort larned, sixty-five miles farther. about half-way he stopped to water his mule and the animal got away from him. for thirty-five miles cody trailed the obstinate brute on foot, never quite able to get within clutch of his bridle rein. at daybreak fort larned came in sight and the danger from roving indians was over. "now, mr. mule, it is my turn," exclaimed the exhausted and thoroughly infuriated scout, raising his gun to his shoulder. like the majority of government mules he was not easy to kill. he died hard, but he died. after a few hours' sleep it was necessary to begin the return journey, as answering dispatches had to be sent to general sheridan. again the ride was made in safety, and one of the greatest feats in all scout history had been accomplished. it should be explained that, previous to beginning the ride to fort dodge, cody had been in the saddle for twenty hours, covering a distance of 140 miles. his grand total for a period of fifty-eight hours was 365 miles (including thirty-five miles on foot), an average of over six miles an hour. a little later cody was appointed chief scout and guide for the fifth cavalry in a campaign against the hostile sioux and cheyennes, and he had many narrow escapes from the tight places into which his adventurous disposition was always leading him. he also served as chief scout for the republican river expedition of 1869. while living near fort mcpherson, nebraska, in 1870, cody was appointed justice of the peace by general emory to take care of certain civilian offenders against the common law. buffalo bill protested that he knew nothing about law, but general emory was insistent and cody went over to north platte and was sworn in. that very night he was aroused by a man who had a complaint to make. one of his horses had been stolen by the boss of a passing herd, and he wanted a writ of replevin. "i don't know what a replevin is," answered 'squire cody, as he took down his old lucretia rifle and patted it gently, "but i guess this will do as well." in company with the complainant cody galloped after the cavalcade and soon overtook the offender against the ethical code. at first the boss was defiant, but when he realized who the 'squire was he quickly weakened. "i didn't care a blank about you being justice of the peace and constable combined," he explained, "but when i found out you were buffalo bill it was time to lay down my hand." the 'squire read the fellow a lecture on the iniquity of horse stealing, collected a fine of one hundred and fifty dollars, reclaimed the animal, and declared that court was adjourned. in 1872 the russian grand duke alexis visited this country, and a far west hunting expedition was arranged in his honor. buffalo bill acted as guide and chief huntsman. the grand duke, under cody's tutelage, succeeded in bagging several handsome heads, and, in token of his appreciation, he presented to buffalo bill his almost priceless fur overcoat and a wonderful set of sleeve links and scarfpin studded with diamonds and rubies. in this same year cody was elected a member of the nebraska legislature. later on he resigned and went to chicago, where he made his first appearance on the stage as an actor in a play written around himself and entitled, "the scout of the plains." in 1874 cody acted as guide to a grand hunting party given by general sheridan to a number of wealthy and distinguished eastern men. cody became a great favorite with everybody, and the next winter he went on to new york to visit his new friends. he wore his famous sombrero and his fringed hunting suit of buckskin everywhere, and they created a mild sensation on broadway and fifth avenue. then he went back to the west and tried the hum-drum life of a farmer and ranchman. the famous wild west show was staged for the first time at omaha on may 17, 1883. it was a tremendous success from the start, and colonel cody was besieged with applications from all over the country. he went to england in 1887; royalty patronized this truly original and thrilling entertainment, and buffalo bill's fortune was made. in later years several successful european tours were undertaken. in november, 1911, colonel cody announced his retirement. he was then sixty-seven years old and reputed to be worth $3,000,000. he went to his ranch at cody, wyoming, and tried to settle down. but the old spirit of adventure lured him back to the sawdust arena. this time he was not so fortunate. he lost money on every hand, and finally the celebrated show went under the auctioneer's hammer. friends came to his rescue, however, and bid in his famous white horse, ishan, which the colonel always rode at the head of his roughriders. the old scout had kept his courage, too, and he announced his intention of trying it again; he even joined a circus company as one of the regular troupe of performers. but his race was run, his day was done. even his iron constitution had been weakened by the trials and privations of seventy-two years of strenuous life. he had lived up to the very last inch of his allotted span. he had played hard and he had fought hard and in the end he died hard, amazing even his experienced physicians by his extraordinary vitality. the doctors had told him that the end was near, but he only laughed and called for a pack of cards. "you can't kill the old scout," he said, smilingly. "let's have a game of high-five." yet even this undaunted spirit was forced to bow to mortal necessity, and a day or two later he relapsed into a state of unconsciousness from which he was never to emerge. his death attracted the notice of two continents. the newspapers printed columns of obituaries; the state of colorado ordered a public funeral in his honor; it was the passing of a heroic figure in american annals. all in all, he must rank as the greatest of scouts and the most gallant of indian fighters. he never knew fear. his life was in danger hundreds of times, and yet he always had the better of his adversary. he lived a free life among wild surroundings, but he was always to be found on the side of law and order. he was a dead shot, a splendid horseman, and an absolutely fearless fighter. the men who knew him best, including many well-known officers of the army, all united in praising the bravery, honesty, and modesty of this true product of the old wild west. his place can never be filled; he was a relic of the days that are gone, never to return. the adventures of buffalo bill i crossing the plains in the early settlement of kansas common-school advantages were denied us, and to provide a means for educating the few boys and girls in the neighborhood of my home, a subscription school was started in a small log cabin that was built on the bank of a creek that ran near our house. my mother took great interest in this school, and at her persuasion i returned home and became enrolled as a pupil, where i made satisfactory progress until, as the result of a quarrel with a schoolmate, i left the town and started across the plains with one of russell, majors & waddell's freight trains. the trip proved a most enjoyable one to me, although no incidents worthy of note occurred on the way. on my return from fort kearny i was paid off the same as the rest of the employés. the remainder of the summer and fall i spent in herding cattle and working for russell, majors & waddell. in may, 1857, i started for salt lake city with a herd of beef cattle, in charge of frank and bill mccarthy, for general albert sidney johnston's army, which was then being sent across the plains to fight the mormons. nothing occurred to interrupt our journey until we reached plum creek, on the south platte river, thirty-five miles west of old fort kearny. we had made a morning drive, and had camped for dinner. the wagon masters and a majority of the men had gone to sleep under the mess wagons. the cattle were being guarded by three men, and the cook was preparing dinner. no one had any idea that indians were anywhere near us. the first warning we had that they were infesting that part of the country was the firing of shots and the whoops and yells from a party of them, who, catching us napping, gave us a most unwelcome surprise. all the men jumped to their feet and seized their guns. they saw with astonishment the cattle running in every direction, they having been stampeded by the indians, who had shot and killed the three men who were on day herd duty, and the redmen were now charging down upon the rest of us. the mccarthy boys, at the proper moment, gave orders to fire upon the advancing enemy. the volley checked them, although they returned the compliment, and shot one of our party through the leg. frank mccarthy then sang out, "boys, make a break for the slough yonder, and we can then have the bank for a breastwork." we made a run for the slough, which was only a short distance off, and succeeded in safely reaching it, bringing with us the wounded man. the bank proved to be a very effective breastwork, affording us good protection. we had been there but a short time when frank mccarthy, seeing that the longer we were corralled the worse it would be for us, said, "well, boys, we'll try to make our way back to fort kearny by wading in the river and keeping the bank for a breastwork." we all agreed that this was the best plan, and we accordingly proceeded down the river several miles in this way, managing to keep the indians at a safe distance with our guns, until the slough made a junction with the main platte river. from there down we found the river at times quite deep, and in order to carry the wounded man along with us, we constructed a raft of poles for his accommodation, and in this way he was transported. occasionally the water would be too deep for us to wade, and we were obliged to put our weapons on the raft and swim. the indians followed us pretty closely, and were continually watching for an opportunity to get a good range and give us a raking fire. covering ourselves by keeping well under the bank, we pushed ahead as rapidly as possible, and made pretty good progress, the night finding us still on the way and our enemies yet on our track. i, being the youngest and smallest of the party, became somewhat tired, and, without noticing it, i had fallen behind the others for some little distance. it was about ten o'clock, and we were keeping very quiet and hugging close to the bank, when i happened to look up to the moonlit sky and saw the plumed head of an indian peeping over the bank. instead of hurrying ahead and alarming the men in a quiet way, i instantly aimed my gun at his head and fired. the report rang out sharp and loud on the night air, and was immediately followed by an indian whoop, and the next moment about six feet of dead indian came tumbling into the river. i was not only overcome with astonishment, but was badly scared, as i could hardly realize what i had done. i expected to see the whole force of indians come down upon us. while i was standing thus bewildered, the men, who had heard the shot and the war whoop, and had seen the indian take a tumble, came rushing back. "who fired that shot?" cried frank mccarthy. "i did," replied i, rather proudly, as my confidence returned, and i saw the men coming up. "yes, and little billy has killed an indian stone dead--too dead to skin," said one of the men, who had approached nearer than the rest, and had almost stumbled upon the indian. from that time forward i became a hero and an indian-killer. this was, of course, the first indian i had ever shot, and as i was not then more than eleven years of age, my exploit created quite a sensation. the other indians, upon learning what had happened to their advance, fired several shots without effect, but which hastened our retreat down the river. we reached fort kearny just as the reveille was being sounded, bringing the wounded man with us. after the peril through which we had passed, it was a relief to feel that once more i was safe after such a dangerous initiation. frank mccarthy immediately reported to the commanding officer and informed him of all that had happened. the commandant at once ordered a company of cavalry and one of infantry to proceed to plum creek on a forced march, taking a howitzer with them--to endeavor to recapture the cattle from the indians. the firm of russell, majors & waddell had a division agent at kearny, and this agent mounted us on mules so that we could accompany the troops. on reaching the place where the indians had surprised us, we found the bodies of the three men, whom they had killed and scalped and literally cut into pieces. we of course buried the remains. we caught but few of the cattle, most of them having been driven off and stampeded with the buffaloes, there being numerous immense herds of the latter in that section of the country at the time. the indians' trail was discovered running south toward the republican river, and the troops followed it to the head of plum creek, and there abandoned it, returning to fort kearny without having seen a single redskin. the company's agent, seeing that there was no further use for us in that vicinity--as we had lost our cattle and mules--sent us back to fort leavenworth. the company, it is proper to state, did not have to stand the loss of the expedition, as the government held itself responsible for such depredations by the indians. on the day that i got into leavenworth, some time in july, i was interviewed for the first time in my life by a newspaper reporter, and the next morning i found my name in print as "the youngest indian-slayer on the plains." i am candid enough to admit that i felt very much elated over this notoriety. again and again i read with eager interest the long and sensational account of our adventure. my exploit was related in a very graphic manner, and for a long time afterward i was considerable of a hero. in the following summer, russell, majors & waddell entered upon a contract with the government for general albert sidney johnston's army that was sent against the mormons. a large number of teams and teamsters were required for the purpose, and as the route was considered a dangerous one, men were not easily engaged for the service, though the pay was forty dollars a month in gold. an old wagon master named lew simpson, one of the best that ever commanded a bull train, was upon the point of starting with about ten wagons for the company, direct for salt lake, and as he had known me for some time as an ambitious youth, requested me to accompany him as an extra hand. my duties would be light, and, in fact, i would have nothing to do, unless some one of the drivers became sick, in which case i would be required to take his place. but even more seductive than this inducement was the promise that i should be provided with a mule of my own to ride, and be subject to the orders of no one save simpson himself. as a matter of interest to the general reader, it may be well to give a brief description of a freight train. the wagons used in those days by russell, majors & waddell were known as the "j. murphy wagons," made at st. louis especially for the plains business. they were very large and very strongly built, being capable of carrying seven thousand pounds of freight each. the wagon boxes were very commodious, being about as large as the rooms of an ordinary house, and were covered with two heavy canvas sheets to protect the merchandise from the rain. these wagons were generally sent out from leavenworth, each loaded with six thousand pounds of freight, and each drawn by several yoke of oxen in charge of one driver. a train consisted of twenty-five wagons, all in charge of one man, who was known as the wagon master. the second man in command was the assistant wagon master. then came the "extra hand," next the night herder, and lastly the cavayard driver, whose duty it was to drive the loose and lame cattle. there were thirty-one men all told in a train. the men did their own cooking, being divided into messes of seven. one man cooked, another brought wood and water, another stood guard, and so on, each having some duty to perform while getting meals. all were heavily armed with colt's pistols and mississippi yagers, and every one always had his weapons handy so as to be prepared for any emergency. the wagon master, in the language of the plains, was called the "bull-wagon boss"; the teamsters were known as "bull-whackers"; and the whole train was denominated a "bull outfit." everything at that time was called an "outfit." the men of the plains were always full of a droll humor and exciting stories of their own experiences, and many an hour i spent in listening to the recitals of thrilling adventures and hairbreadth escapes. the trail to salt lake ran through kansas northwestwardly, crossing the big blue river, then over the big and little sandy, coming into nebraska near the big sandy. the next stream of any importance was the little blue, along which the trail ran for sixty miles, then crossed a range of sand hills, and struck the platte river ten miles below fort kearny; thence the course lay up the south platte to the old ash hollow crossing; thence eighteen miles across to the north platte, near the mouth of the blue water, where general harney had his great battle in 1855 with the sioux and cheyenne indians. from this point the north platte was followed, passing courthouse rock, chimney rock, and scott's bluffs, and then on to fort laramie, where the laramie river was crossed. still following the north platte for some considerable distance, the trail crossed the river at old richard's bridge, and followed it up to the celebrated red buttes, crossing the willow creeks to the sweet water, thence past the cold springs, where, three feet under the sod, on the hottest day of summer, ice can be found; thence to the hot springs and the rocky ridge, and through the rocky mountains and echo canyon, and thence on to the great salt lake valley. nothing occurred on the trip to delay or give us any trouble whatever, until the train struck the south platte river. one day we camped on the same ground where the indians had surprised the cattle herd in charge of the mccarthy brothers. it was with difficulty that we discovered any traces of anybody ever having camped there before, the only landmark being the single grave, now covered with grass, in which we had buried the three men who had been killed. the country was alive with buffaloes, and having a day of rare sport, we captured ten or twelve head of cattle, they being a portion of the herd which had been stampeded by the indians two months before. the next day we pulled out of the camp, and the train was strung out to a considerable length along the road which ran near the foot of the sand hills two miles from the river. between the road and the river we saw a large herd of buffaloes grazing quietly, they having been down to the stream for a drink. just at this time we observed a party of returning californians coming from the west. they too noticed the buffalo herd, and in another moment they were dashing down upon them, urging their steeds to the greatest speed. the buffalo herd stampeded at once, and broke down the hills. so hotly were they pursued by the hunters that about five hundred of them rushed through our train pell-mell, frightening both men and oxen. some of the wagons were turned clear around, and many of the terrified oxen attempted to run to the hills, with the heavy wagons attached to them. others turned around so short that they broke the wagon tongues off. nearly all the teams got entangled in their gearing, and became wild and unruly, so that the perplexed drivers were unable to manage them. the buffaloes, the cattle, and the drivers were soon running in every direction, and the excitement upset nearly everybody and everything. many of the cattle broke their yokes and stampeded. one big buffalo bull became entangled in one of the heavy wagon chains, and it is a fact that in his desperate efforts to free himself he not only actually snapped the strong chain in two, but broke the ox yoke to which it was attached, and the last seen of him he was running toward the hills with it hanging from his horns. a dozen other equally remarkable incidents happened during the short time that the frantic buffaloes were playing havoc with our train, and when they got through and left us our outfit was badly crippled and scattered. this caused us to go into camp and spend a day in replacing the broken tongues and repairing other damages, and gathering up our scattered ox teams. the next day we rolled out of camp, and proceeded on our way toward the setting sun. everything ran along smoothly with us from that point until we came within about eighteen miles of green river, in the rocky mountains, where we camped at noon. at this place we had to drive our cattle about a mile and a half to a creek to water them. simpson, his assistant george wood, and myself, accompanied by the usual number of guards, drove the cattle over to the creek, and while on our way back to camp we suddenly observed a party of twenty horsemen rapidly approaching us. we were not yet in view of our wagons, as a rise of ground intervened, and therefore we could not signal the trainmen in case of any unexpected danger befalling us. we had no suspicion, however, that we were about to be trapped, as the strangers were white men. when they had come up to us, one of the party, who evidently was the leader, rode out in front, and said, "how are you, mr. simpson?" "you've got the best of me, sir," said simpson, who did not know him. "well, i rather think i have," coolly replied the stranger, whose words conveyed a double meaning, as we soon learned. we had all come to a halt by this time, and the strange horsemen had surrounded us. they were all armed with double-barreled shotguns, rifles, and revolvers. we also were armed with revolvers, but we had no idea of danger, and these men, much to our surprise, had "got the drop" on us, and had covered us with their weapons, so that we were completely at their mercy. the whole movement of corralling us was done so quietly and quickly that it was accomplished before we knew it. "i'll trouble you for your six-shooters, gentlemen," now said the leader. "i'll give 'em to you in a way you don't want," replied simpson. the next moment three guns were leveled at simpson. "if you make a move you are a dead man," said the leader. simpson saw at a glance that he was taken at a great disadvantage, and thinking it advisable not to risk the lives of the party by any rash act on his part, he said, "i see now that you have the best of me; but who are you, anyhow?" "i am joe smith," was the reply. "what! the leader of the danites?" asked simpson. "you are correct," said smith, for he it was. "yes," said simpson, "i know you now; you are a spying scoundrel." simpson had good reason for calling him this, for only a short time before this joe smith had visited our train in the disguise of a teamster, and had remained with us two days. he suddenly disappeared, no one knowing where he had gone or why he had come among us. but it was all explained to us, now that he had returned with his mormon danites. after they had disarmed us, simpson asked, "well, smith, what are you going to do with us?" "ride back with us and i'll soon show you," said smith. we had no idea of the surprise which awaited us. as we came upon the top of the ridge from which we could view our camp, we were astonished to see the remainder of the trainmen disarmed and stationed in a group, and surrounded by another squad of danites, while other mormons were searching our wagons for such articles as they wanted. "how is this?" inquired simpson. "how did you surprise my camp without a struggle? i can't understand it?" "easily enough," said smith. "your men were all asleep under the wagons, except the cooks, who saw us coming, and took us for returning californians or emigrants, and paid no attention to us until we rode up and surrounded your train. with our arms covering the men, we woke them up, and told them all they had to do was to walk out and drop their pistols, which they saw was the best thing they could do under circumstances over which they had no control, and you can just bet they did it." "and what do you propose to do with us now?" asked simpson. "i intend to burn your train," said he. "you are loaded with supplies and ammunition for sidney johnston, and as i have no way to convey the stuff to my own people, i'll see that it does not reach the united states troops." "are you going to turn us adrift here?" asked simpson, who was anxious to learn what was to become of himself and his men. "no; i am hardly as bad as that. i'll give you enough provisions to last you until you can reach fort bridger," replied smith. "and as soon as your cooks can get the stuff out of the wagons you can start." "on foot?" was the laconic inquiry of simpson. "yes, sir," was the equally short reply. "smith, that's too rough on us men. put yourself in our place, and see how you would like it," said simpson. "you can well afford to give us at least one wagon and six yokes of oxen to convey us and our clothing and provisions to fort bridger. you're a brute if you don't do this." "well," said smith, after consulting a minute or two with some of his company, "i'll do that much for you." the cattle and the wagon were brought up according to his orders, and the clothing and provisions were loaded on. "now you can go," said smith, after everything had been arranged. "joe smith, i think you are a mean coward to set us afloat in a hostile country without giving us our arms," said simpson, who had once before asked for the weapons, and had had his request denied. smith, after further consultation with his comrades, said: "simpson, you are too brave a man to be turned adrift here without any means of defense. you shall have your revolvers and guns." our weapons were accordingly handed over to simpson, and we at once started for fort bridger, knowing that it would be useless to attempt the recapture of the train. when we had traveled about two miles we saw the smoke arising from our old camp. the mormons, after taking what goods they wanted and could carry off, had set fire to the wagons, many of which were loaded with bacon, lard, hardtack, and other provisions, which made a very hot, fierce fire, and the smoke to roll up in dense clouds. some of the wagons were loaded with ammunition, and it was not long before loud explosions followed in rapid succession. we waited and witnessed the burning of the train, and then pushed on to fort bridger. arriving at this post, we learned that two other trains had been captured and destroyed in the same way by the mormons. this made seventy-five wagonloads, or four hundred and fifty thousand pounds of supplies, mostly provisions, which never reached general johnston's command, to which they had been consigned. after reaching the fort, it being far in november, we decided to spend the winter there, with about four hundred other employés of russell, majors & waddell, rather than attempt a return, which would have exposed us to many dangers and the severity of the rapidly approaching winter. during this period of hibernation, however, the larders of the commissary became so depleted that we were placed on one-quarter rations, and at length, as a final resort, the poor, dreadfully emaciated mules and oxen were killed to afford sustenance for our famishing party. fort bridger being located in a prairie, all fuel there used had to be carried for a distance of nearly two miles, and after our mules and oxen were butchered, we had no other recourse than to carry the wood on our backs or haul it on sleds--a very tedious and laborious alternative. starvation was beginning to lurk about the post when spring approached, and but for the timely arrival of a westward-bound train loaded with provisions for johnston's army, some of our party must certainly have fallen victims to deadly hunger. the winter finally passed away, and early in the spring, as soon as we could travel, the civil employés of the government, with the teamsters and freighters, started for the missouri river, the johnston expedition having been abandoned. on the way up we stopped at fort laramie, and there met a supply train bound westward. of course we all had a square meal once more, consisting of hardtack, bacon, coffee, and beans. i can honestly say that i thought it was the best meal that i had ever eaten; at least i relished it more than any other, and i think the rest of the party did the same. on leaving fort laramie, simpson was made brigadier wagon master, and was put in charge of two large trains, with about four hundred extra men who were bound for fort leavenworth. when we came to ash hollow, instead of taking the usual trail over to the south platte, simpson concluded to follow the north platte down to its junction with the south platte. the two trains were traveling about fifteen miles apart, when one morning, while simpson was with the rear train, he told his assistant wagon master george wood and myself to saddle up our mules, as he wanted us to go with him and overtake the head train. we started off at about eleven o'clock, and had ridden about seven miles, when, while we were on a big plateau back of cedar bluffs, we suddenly discovered a band of indians coming out of the head of the ravine half a mile distant, and charging down upon us at full speed. i thought that our end had come this time. simpson, however, was equal to the occasion, for with wonderful promptness he jumped from his jaded mule, and in a trice shot his own animal and ours also, and ordered us to assist him to jerk their bodies into a triangle. this being quickly done, we got inside the barricade of mule-flesh, and were prepared to receive the indians. we were each armed with a mississippi yager and two revolvers, and as the indians came swooping down on our improvised fort, we opened fire with such good effect that three fell dead at the first volley. this caused them to retreat out of range, as with two exceptions they were armed with bows and arrows, and therefore to approach near enough to do execution would expose at least several of them to certain death. seeing that they could not take our little fortification or drive us from it, they circled around several times, shooting their arrows at us. one of these struck george wood in the left shoulder, inflicting only a slight wound, however, and several lodged in the bodies of the dead mules; otherwise they did us no harm. the indians finally galloped off to a safe distance, where our bullets could not reach them, and seemed to be holding a council. this was a lucky move for us, for it gave us an opportunity to reload our guns and pistols and prepare for the next charge of the enemy. during the brief cessation of hostilities simpson extracted the arrow from wood's shoulder, and put an immense quid of tobacco on the wound. wood was then ready for business again. the indians did not give us a very long rest, for with another desperate charge, as if to ride over us, they came dashing toward the mule barricade. we gave them a hot reception from our yagers and revolvers. they could not stand or understand the rapidly repeating fire of the revolver, and we checked them again. they circled around us once more, and gave us a few parting shots as they rode off, leaving behind them another dead indian and a horse. for two hours afterward they did not seem to be doing anything but holding a council. we made good use of this time by digging up the ground inside the barricade with our knives, and throwing the loose earth around and over the mules, and we soon had a very respectable fortification. we were not troubled any more that day, but during the night the cunning rascals tried to burn us out by setting fire to the prairie. the buffalo grass was so short that the fire did not trouble us much, but the smoke concealed the indians from our view, and they thought they could approach to us without being seen. we were aware of this, and kept a sharp lookout, being prepared all the time to receive them. they finally abandoned the idea of surprising us. next morning, bright and early, they gave us one more grand charge, and again we "stood them off." they then rode away half a mile or so, and formed a circle around us. each man dismounted and sat down, as if to wait and starve us out. they had evidently seen the advance train pass on the morning of the previous day, and believed that we belonged to that outfit, and were trying to overtake it. they had no idea that another train was on its way after us. our hopes of escape from this unpleasant and perilous situation now depended upon the arrival of the rear train, and when we saw that the indians were going to besiege us instead of renewing their attacks, we felt rather confident of receiving timely assistance. we had expected that the train would be along late in the afternoon of the previous day, and as the morning wore away we were somewhat anxious and uneasy at its nonarrival. at last, about ten o'clock, we began to hear in the distance the loud and sharp reports of the big bull-whips, which were handled with great dexterity by the teamsters, and cracked like rifle shots. these were welcome sounds to us, as were the notes of the bagpipes to the besieged garrison at lucknow when the re-enforcements were coming up, and the pipers were heard playing "the campbells are coming." in a few moments we saw the head wagon coming slowly over the ridge which had concealed the train from our view, and soon the whole outfit made its appearance. the indians observed the approaching train, and assembling in a group, they held a short consultation. they then charged upon us once more, for the last time, and as they turned and dashed away over the prairie, we sent our farewell shots rattling after them. the teamsters, seeing the indians and hearing the shots, came rushing forward to our assistance, but by that time the redskins had almost disappeared from view. the teamsters eagerly asked us a hundred questions concerning our fight, admired our fort, and praised our pluck. simpson's remarkable presence of mind in planning the defense was the general topic of conversation among all the men. when the teams came up we obtained some water and bandages with which to dress wood's wound, which had become quite inflamed and painful, and we then put him into one of the wagons. simpson and myself obtained a remount, bade good-by to our dead mules which had served us so well, and after collecting the ornaments and other plunder from the dead indians, we left their bodies and bones to bleach on the prairie. the train moved on again, and we had no other adventures, except several exciting buffalo hunts on the south platte near plum creek. ii rounding up indians in october, 1867, general sheridan organized an expedition to operate against the indians who infested the republican river region. "cody," said he, "i have decided to appoint you as guide and chief of scouts with the command. how does that suit you?" "first rate, general, and thank you for the honor," i replied, as gracefully as i knew how. the dog soldier indians were a band of cheyennes and unruly, turbulent members of other tribes, who would not enter into any treaty, or keep a treaty if they made one, and who had always refused to go upon a reservation. they were a warlike body of well-built, daring, and restless braves, and were determined to hold possession of the country in the vicinity of the republican and solomon rivers. they were called "dog soldiers" because they were principally cheyennes--a name derived from the french _chien_, a dog. on the 3d of october the fifth cavalry arrived at fort hays. general sheridan, being anxious to punish the indians who had lately fought general forsyth, did not give the regiment much of a rest, and accordingly on the 5th of october it began its march for the beaver creek country. the first night we camped on the south fork of big creek, four miles west of hays city. by this time i had become pretty well acquainted with major brown and captain sweetman, who invited me to mess with them on this expedition, and a jolly mess we had. there were other scouts in the command besides myself, and i particularly remember tom renahan, hank fields, and a character called "nosey," on account of his long nose. the next day we marched thirty miles, and late in the afternoon we came into camp on the south fork of the solomon. at this encampment colonel royal asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for the boys. "all right, colonel; send along a wagon or two to bring in the meat," i said. "i am not in the habit of sending out my wagons until i know that there is something to be hauled in; kill your buffaloes first, and then i'll send out the wagons," was the colonel's reply. i said no more, but went out on a hunt, and after a short absence returned and asked the colonel to send out his wagons over the hill for the half-dozen buffaloes i had killed. the following afternoon he again requested me to go out and get some fresh buffalo meat. i didn't ask him for any wagons this time, but rode out some distance, and coming up with a small herd i managed to get seven of them headed straight for the encampment, and instead of shooting them just then, i ran them at full speed right into the camp, and then killed them all, one after another, in rapid succession. colonel royal witnessed the whole proceeding, which puzzled him somewhat, as he could see no reason why i had not killed them on the prairie. he came up rather angrily, and demanded an explanation. "i can't allow any such business as this, cody," said he. "what do you mean by it?" "i didn't care about asking for any wagons this time, colonel, so i thought i would make the buffaloes furnish their own transportation," was my reply. the colonel saw the point in a moment, and had no more to say on the subject. no indians had been seen in the vicinity during the day, and colonel royal, having carefully posted his pickets, supposed everything was serene for the night. but before morning we were aroused from our slumbers by hearing shots fired, and immediately afterward one of the mounted pickets came galloping into camp, saying that there were indians close at hand. the companies all fell into line, and were soon prepared and anxious to give the redskins battle; but as the men were yet new in the indian country a great many of them were considerably excited. no indians, however, made their appearance, and upon going to the picket-post where the picket said he had seen them none could be found, nor could any traces of them be discovered. the sentinel, who was an irishman, insisted that there had certainly been redskins there. "but you must be mistaken," said colonel royal. "upon me sowl, colonel, i'm not. as shure ez me name's pat maloney, one of them redskins hit me on the head with a club, so he did," said pat. and so when morning came the mystery was further investigated, and was easily solved. elk tracks were found in the vicinity, and it was undoubtedly a herd of elks that had frightened pat. as he had turned to run he had gone under a limb of a tree against which he hit his head, and supposed he had been struck by a club in the hands of an indian. it was hard to convince pat, however, of the truth. a three days' uninteresting march brought us to beaver creek, where we were camped, and from which point scouting parties were sent out in different directions. none of these, however, discovering indians, they all returned to camp about the same time, finding it in a state of great excitement, it having been attacked a few hours previously by a party of indians, who had succeeded in killing two men and in making off with sixty horses belonging to company h. that evening the command started on the trail of these indian horse thieves, major brown with two companies and three days' rations pushing ahead in advance of the main command. being unsuccessful, however, in overtaking the indians, and getting nearly out of provisions--it being our eighteenth day out--the entire command marched toward the nearest railway point, and camped on the saline river, distant three miles from buffalo tank. while waiting for supplies we received a new commanding officer, brevet major general e. a. carr, who was the senior major of the regiment, and who ranked colonel royal. he brought with him the celebrated forsyth scouts, who were commanded by lieutenant pepoon, a regular army officer. the next morning, at an early hour, the command started out on a hunt for indians. general carr, having a pretty good idea where he would be most likely to find them, directed me to guide them by the nearest route to elephant rock on beaver creek. upon arriving at the south fork of the beaver on the second day's march, we discovered a large fresh indian trail, which we hurriedly followed for a distance of eight miles, when suddenly we saw on the bluffs ahead of us quite a large number of indians. general carr ordered lieutenant pepoon's scouts and company m to the front. this company was commanded by lieutenant schinosky, a frenchman by birth and reckless by nature. having advanced his company nearly a mile ahead of the main command, about four hundred indians suddenly charged down upon him and gave him a lively little fight, until he was supported by our full force. the indians kept increasing in numbers all the while, until it was estimated that we were fighting from eight hundred to one thousand of them. the engagement became quite general, and several were killed and wounded on each side. the indians were evidently fighting to give their families and village a chance to get away. we had undoubtedly surprised them with a larger force than they had expected to see in that part of the country. we fought them until dark, all the time driving them before us. at night they annoyed us considerably by firing down into our camp from the higher hills, and several times the command was ordered to dislodge them from their position and drive them back. after having returned from one of these sallies, major brown, captain sweetman, lieutenant bache, and myself were taking supper together, when "whang!" came a bullet into lieutenant bache's plate, breaking a hole through it. the bullet came from the gun of one of the indians, who had returned to the high bluff overlooking our camp. major brown declared it was a crack shot, because it broke the plate. we finished our supper without having any more such close calls. at daylight next morning we struck out on the trail, and soon came to the spot where the indians had camped the day before. we could see that their village was a very large one, consisting of about five hundred lodges; and we pushed forward rapidly from this point on the trail which ran back toward prairie dog creek. about two o'clock we came in sight of the retreating village, and soon the warriors turned back to give us battle. they set fire to the prairie grass in front of us and on all sides in order to delay us as much as possible. we kept up a running fight for the remainder of the afternoon, and the indians repeatedly attempted to lead us off the track of their flying village; but their trail was easily followed, as they were continually dropping tepee-poles, camp-kettles, robes, furs, and all heavy articles belonging to them. they were evidently scattering, and it finally became difficult for us to keep on the main trail. when darkness set in we went into camp, it being useless to try to follow the indians after nightfall. next morning we were again on the trail. the indians soon scattered in every direction, but we followed the main trail to the republican river, where we made a cut-off, and then went north toward the platte river. we found, however, that the indians by traveling night and day had got a long start, and the general concluded that it was useless to follow them any farther. the general told me that the next day's march would be toward the headwaters of the beaver, and asked me the distance. i replied that it was about twenty-five miles, and he said he would make it the next day. getting an early start in the morning, we struck out across the prairie, my position as guide being ahead of the advance guard. about two o'clock general carr overtook me, and asked me how far i supposed it was to water. i thought it was about eight miles, although we could see no sign or indication of any stream in front. "pepoon's scouts say you are going in the wrong direction," said the general; "and in the way you are bearing it will be fifteen miles before you can strike any of the branches of the beaver; and that when you do, you will find no water, for the beavers are dry at this time of the year at that point." "general, i think the scouts are mistaken," said i, "for the beaver has more water near its head than it has below; and at the place where we will strike the stream we will find immense beaver dams, large enough and strong enough to cross the whole command, if you wish." "well, cody, go ahead," said he; "i'll leave it to you; but remember that i don't want a dry camp." "no danger of that," said i; and then i rode on, leaving him to return to the command. as i had predicted, we found water seven or eight miles farther on, where we came upon a beautiful little stream, a tributary of the beaver, hidden in the hills. we had no difficulty in selecting a good halting-place, and obtaining fresh spring water and grass. the general, upon learning from me that the stream--which was only eight or nine miles long--had no name, took out his map and located it, and named it cody's creek, which name it still bears. we pulled out early next morning for the beaver, and when we were approaching the stream i rode on ahead of the advance guard in order to find the crossing. just as i turned a bend of the creek, "bang!" went a shot, and down went my horse--myself with him. i disentangled myself, and jumped behind the dead body. looking in the direction whence the shot had come i saw two indians, and at once turned my gun loose on them, but in the excitement of the moment i missed my aim. they fired two or three more shots, and i returned the compliment, wounding one of their horses. on the opposite side of the creek, going over the hill, i observed a few lodges moving rapidly away, and also some mounted warriors, who could see me, and who kept blazing away with their guns. the two indians who had fired at me, and had killed my horse, were retreating across the creek on a beaver dam. i sent a few shots after them to accelerate their speed, and also fired at the ones on the other side of the stream. i was undecided as to whether it was best to run back to the command on foot or hold my position. i knew that within a few minutes the troops would come up, and i therefore decided to hold my position. the indians, seeing that i was alone, turned, and charged down the hill, and were about to recross the creek to corral me, when the advance guard of the command put in an appearance on the ridge, and dashed forward to my rescue. the redskins whirled and made off. when general carr came up, he ordered company i to go in pursuit of the band. i accompanied lieutenant brady, who commanded, and we had a running fight with the indians, lasting several hours. we captured several head of their horses and most of their lodges. at night we returned to the command, which by this time had crossed the creek on the beaver dam. we scouted for several days along the river, and had two or three lively skirmishes. finally our supplies began to run low, and general carr gave orders to return to fort wallace, which we reached three days afterward, and where we remained several days. very soon after, general carr received orders from general sheridan for a winter's campaign in the canadian river country, instructing him to proceed at once to fort lyon, colorado, and there to fit out for the expedition. leaving fort wallace in november, 1868, we arrived at fort lyon in the latter part of the month without special incident, and at once began our preparations for invading the enemy's country. general penrose had left his post three weeks previously with a command of some three hundred men. he had taken no wagons with him, and his supply train was composed only of pack mules. general carr was ordered to follow with supplies on his trail and overtake him as soon as possible. i was particularly anxious to catch up with penrose's command, as my old friend wild bill was among his scouts. we followed the trail very easily for the first three days, and then we were caught in freeze-out canyon by a fearful snowstorm, which compelled us to go into camp for a day. the ground now being covered with snow, we found it would be impossible to follow penrose's trail any farther, especially as he had left no sign to indicate the direction he was going. general carr sent for me, and said that as it was very important that we should not lose the trail, he wished that i would take some scouts with me, and while the command remained in camp, push on as far as possible, and see if i could not discover some traces of penrose or where he had camped at any time. accompanied by four men, i started out in the blinding snowstorm, taking a southerly direction. we rode twenty-four miles, and upon reaching a tributary of the cimarron, we scouted up and down the stream for a few miles, and finally found one of penrose's old camps. it was now late in the afternoon, and as the command would come up the next day, it was not necessary for all of us to return with the information to general carr. so riding down into a sheltered place in the bend of the creek, we built a fire and broiled some venison from a deer which we had shot during the day, and after eating a substantial meal, i left the four men there while i returned to bring up the troops. it was eleven o'clock at night when i got back to the camp. a light was still burning in the general's tent, he having remained awake, anxiously awaiting my return. he was glad to see me, and was overjoyed at the information i brought, for he had great fears concerning the safety of general penrose. the command took up its march next day for the cimarron, and had a hard tramp of it on account of the snow having drifted to a great depth in many of the ravines, and in some places the teamsters had to shovel their way through. we arrived at the cimarron at sundown, and went into camp. upon looking around next morning, we found that penrose, having been unencumbered by wagons, had kept on the west side of the cimarron, and the country was so rough that it was impossible for us to stay on his trail with our wagons; but knowing that we would certainly follow down the river, general carr concluded to take the best wagon route along the stream, which i discovered to be on the east side. before we could make any headway with our wagon train we had to leave the river and get out on the divide. we were very fortunate that day in finding a splendid road for some distance, until we were all at once brought to a standstill on a high tableland, overlooking a beautiful winding creek that lay far below us in the valley. the question that troubled us was how we were to get the wagons down. we were now in the foothills of the rattoon mountains, and the bluff we were on was very steep. "cody, we're in a nice fix now," said general carr. "oh, that's nothing," was my reply. "but you can never take the train down," said he. "never you mind the train, general. you say you are looking for a good camp. how does that beautiful spot down in the valley suit you?" i asked him. "that will do. i can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down there is a puzzler to me," said he. "by the time you are located in your camp, your wagons shall be there," said i. "all right, cody, i'll leave it to you, as you seem to want to be boss," he replied, pleasantly. he at once ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain side. the wagon train was a mile in the rear, and when it came up one of the drivers asked, "how are we going down there?" "run down, slide down, or fall down; any way to get down," said i. "we can never do it; it's too steep; the wagons will run over the mules," said another wagon master. "i guess not; the mules have got to keep out of the way," was my reply. i told wilson, the chief wagon master, to bring on his mess wagon, which was at the head of the train, and i would try the experiment at least. wilson drove the team and wagon to the brink of the hill, and following my directions he brought out some extra chains with which we locked the wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them. we now started the wagon down the hill. the wheel horses--or rather the wheel mules--were good on the hold back, and we got along finely until we nearly reached the bottom, when the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on a run and galloped down into the valley and to the place where general carr had located his camp. three other wagons immediately followed in the same way, and in half an hour every wagon was in camp, without the least accident having occurred. it was indeed an exciting sight to see the six mule teams come straight down the mountain and finally break into a full run. at times it looked as if the wagons would turn a somersault and land on the mules. [illustration: i disentangled myself and jumped behind the dead body of the horse.] this proved to be a lucky march for us, as far as gaining on penrose was concerned; for the route he had taken on the west side of the stream turned out to be a bad one, and we went with our immense wagon train as far in one day as penrose had in seven. his command had marched on to a plateau or high tableland so steep that not even a pack mule could descend it, and he was obliged to retrace his steps a long way, thus losing three days' time, as we afterward learned. from this point on, for several days, we had no trouble in following penrose's trail, which led us in a southeasterly direction toward the canadian river. no indians were seen, nor any signs of them found. one day, while riding in advance of the command down san francisco creek, i heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the opposite bank, and upon looking closely at the spot, i saw a negro. "sakes alive! massa bill, am dat you?" asked the man, whom i recognized as one of the colored soldiers of the tenth cavalry. i next heard him say to some one in the brush: "come out o' heah. dar's massa buffalo bill." then he sang out, "massa bill, is you got any hawdtack?" "nary a hardtack; but the wagons will be along presently, and then you can get all you want," said i. "dat's de best news i's heerd foah sixteen long days, massa bill," said he. "where's your command? where's general penrose?" i asked. "i dun'no'," said the darky; "we got lost and we's been starvin' eber since." by this time two other negroes had emerged from their place of concealment. they had deserted penrose's command--which was out of rations and nearly in a starving condition--and were trying to make their way back to fort lyon. general carr concluded, from what they could tell him, that general penrose was somewhere on palladora creek; but we could not learn anything definite, for they knew not where they were themselves. having learned that general penrose's troops were in such bad shape, general carr ordered major brown to start out the next morning with two companies of cavalry and fifty pack mules loaded with provisions, and to make all possible speed to reach and relieve the suffering soldiers. i accompanied this detachment, and on the third day out we found the half-famished soldiers camped on the palladora. the camp presented a pitiful sight, indeed. for over two weeks the men had had only quarter rations, and were now nearly starved to death. over two hundred horses and mules were lying dead, having died from fatigue and starvation. general penrose, fearing that general carr would not find him, had sent back a company of the seventh cavalry to fort lyon for supplies; but no word had as yet been heard from them. the rations which major brown brought to the command came none too soon, and were the means of saving many lives. general carr, upon arriving with his force, took command of all the troops, he being the senior officer and ranking general penrose. after selecting a good camp, he unloaded the wagons and sent them back to fort lyon for fresh supplies. he then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack train with him, started south for the canadian river, leaving the rest of the troops at the supply camp. for several days we scouted along the canadian river, but found no signs of indians. general carr then went back to his camp, and soon afterward our wagon train came in from fort lyon with a fresh load of provisions. at length, our horses and mules having become sufficiently recruited to return, we returned to fort lyon, arriving there in march, 1869, where the command was to rest and recruit for thirty days before proceeding to the department of the platte, whither it had been ordered. iii pursuing the sioux when the fifth cavalry was ordered to the department of the platte, we moved from fort wallace down to sheridan, and in a few days started on another expedition after the hostile indians. the second day out, on reaching the north fork of the beaver and riding down the valley toward the stream, i suddenly discovered a large fresh indian trail. on examination i found it to be scattered all over the valley on both sides of the creek, as if a very large village had recently passed that way. judging from the size of the trail, i thought that there could not be less than four hundred lodges, or between twenty-five hundred and three thousand warriors, women, and children in the band. i galloped back to the command, distant about three miles, and reported the news to general carr, who halted the regiment, and after consulting a few minutes, ordered me to select a ravine, or as low ground as possible, so that he could keep the troops out of sight until we could strike the creek. we went into camp on the beaver, and the general ordered lieutenant ward to take twelve men and myself and follow up the trail for several miles, and find out how fast the indians were traveling. i was soon convinced, by the many camps they had made, that they were traveling slowly, and hunting as they journeyed. we went down the beaver on this scout about twelve miles, keeping our horses well concealed under the banks of the creek, so as not to be discovered. at this point, lieutenant ward and myself, leaving our horses behind us, crawled to the top of a high knoll, where we could have a good view for some miles distant down the stream. we peeped over the summit of the hill, and not over three miles away we could see a whole indian village in plain sight, and thousands of ponies grazing around on the prairie. looking over to our left, on the opposite side of the creek we observed two or three parties of indians coming in, loaded down with buffalo meat. "this is no place for us, lieutenant," said i; "i think we have important business at the camp to attend to as soon as possible." "i agree with you," said he, "and the quicker we get there the better it will be for us." we quickly descended the hill and joined the men below. lieutenant ward hurriedly wrote a note to general carr, and handing it to a corporal, ordered him to make all possible haste back to the command and deliver the message. the man started off on a gallop, and lieutenant ward said, "we will march slowly back until we meet the troops, as i think the general will soon be here, for he will start immediately upon receiving my note." in a few minutes we heard two or three shots in the direction in which our dispatch courier had gone, and soon after we saw him come running around the bend of the creek, pursued by four or five indians. the lieutenant, with his squad of soldiers and myself, at once charged upon them, when they turned and ran across the stream. "this will not do," said lieutenant ward; "the whole indian village will now know that soldiers are near by." "lieutenant, give me that note, and i will take it to the general," said i. he gladly handed me the dispatch, and spurring my horse i dashed up the creek. after having ridden a short distance, i observed another party of indians, also going to the village with meat; but instead of waiting for them to fire upon me, i gave them a shot at long range. seeing one man firing at them so boldly, it surprised them, and they did not know what to make of it. while they were thus considering, i got between them and our camp. by this time they had recovered from their surprise, and cutting their buffalo meat loose from their horses, they came after me at the top of their speed; but as their steeds were tired out, it did not take me long to leave them far in the rear. i reached the command in less than an hour, delivered the dispatch to general carr, and informed him of what i had seen. he instantly had the bugler sound "boots and saddles," and all the troops, with the exception of two companies which we left to guard the train, were soon galloping in the direction of the indian camp. we had ridden about three miles, when we met lieutenant ward, who was coming slowly toward us. he reported that he had run into a party of indian buffalo hunters, and had killed one of the number, and had had one of his horses wounded. we immediately pushed forward, and after marching about five miles came within sight of hundreds of mounted indians advancing up the creek to meet us. they formed a complete line in front of us. general carr, being desirous of striking their village, ordered the troops to charge, break through their line, and keep straight on. this movement would no doubt have been successfully accomplished had it not been for the rattle-brained and dare-devil french lieutenant schinosky, commanding company b, who, misunderstanding general carr's orders, charged upon some indians at the left, while the rest of the command dashed through the enemy's line, and was keeping straight on, when it was observed that schinosky and his company were surrounded by four or five hundred indians. the general, to save the company, was obliged to sound a halt and charge back to the rescue. the company during this short fight had several men and quite a number of horses killed. all this took up valuable time, and night was coming on. the indians were fighting desperately to keep us from reaching their village, which, being informed by couriers of what was taking place, was packing up and getting away. during that afternoon it was all that we could do to hold our own in fighting the mounted warriors, who were in our front and contesting every inch of the ground. the general had left word for our wagon train to follow up with its escort of two companies, but as it had not made its appearance, he entertained some fears that it had been surrounded, and to prevent the possible loss of the supply train we had to go back and look for it. about nine o'clock that evening we found it and went into camp for the night. early the next day we broke camp and passed down the creek, but there was not an indian to be seen. they had all disappeared and gone on with their village. two miles farther we came to where a village had been located, and here we found nearly everything belonging to or pertaining to an indian camp, which had been left in the great hurry to get away. these articles were all gathered up and burned. we then pushed out on the trail as fast as possible. it led us to the northeast toward the republican; but as the indians had a night the start of us, we entertained but little hope of overtaking them that day. upon reaching the republican in the afternoon the general called a halt, and as the trail was running more to the east, he concluded to send his wagon train on to fort mcpherson by the most direct route, while he would follow on the trail of the redskins. next morning at daylight we again pulled out, and were evidently gaining rapidly on the indians, for we could occasionally see them in the distance. about eleven o'clock that day, while major babcock was ahead of the main command with his company, and while we were crossing a deep ravine, we were surprised by about three hundred warriors, who commenced a lively fire upon us. galloping out of the ravine on to the rough prairie, the men dismounted and returned the fire. we soon succeeded in driving the indians before us and were so close to them at one time that they abandoned and threw away nearly all their lodges and camp equipage, and everything that had any considerable weight. they left behind them their played-out horses, and for miles we could see indian furniture strewn along in every direction. the trail became divided, and the indians scattered in small bodies all over the prairie. as night was approaching and our horses were about giving out, a halt was called. a company was detailed to collect all the indian horses running loose over the country, and to burn the other indian property. the command being nearly out of rations, i was sent to the nearest point, old fort kearny, about sixty miles distant, for supplies. shortly after we reached fort mcpherson, which continued to be the headquarters of the fifth cavalry for some time, we fitted out for a new expedition to the republican river country, and were re-enforced by three companies of the celebrated pawnee indian scouts, commanded by major frank north. general carr recommended at this time to general augur, who was in command of the department, that i be made chief of scouts in the department of the platte, and informed me that in this position i would receive higher wages than i had been getting in the department of the missouri. this appointment i had not asked for. i made the acquaintance of major frank north, and i found him and his officers perfect gentlemen, and we were all good friends from the very start. the pawnee scouts had made quite a reputation for themselves, as they had performed brave and valuable services in fighting against the sioux, whose bitter enemies they were; being thoroughly acquainted with the republican and beaver country, i was glad that they were to be with the expedition, and my expectation of the aid they would render was not disappointed. during our stay at fort mcpherson i made the acquaintance of lieutenant george p. belden, known as the "white chief." i found him to be an intelligent, dashing fellow, a splendid rider, and an excellent shot. an hour after our introduction he challenged me for a rifle match, the preliminaries of which were soon arranged. we were to shoot ten shots each for fifty dollars, at two hundred yards, off-hand. belden was to use a henry rifle, while i was to shoot my old "lucretia." this match i won, and then belden proposed to shoot a one-hundred-yard match, as i was shooting over his distance. in this match belden was victorious. we were now even, and we stopped right there. while we were at this post general augur and several of his officers paid us a visit for the purpose of reviewing the command. the regiment turned out in fine style and showed themselves to be well-drilled soldiers, thoroughly understanding military tactics. the pawnee scouts were also reviewed, and it was very amusing to see them in their full regular uniform. they had been furnished a regulation cavalry uniform, and on this parade some of them had their heavy overcoats on, others their large black hats, with all the brass accouterments attached; some of them were minus pantaloons, and only wore a breech-clout. others wore regulation pantaloons, but no shirts, and were bareheaded; others again had the seat of the pantaloons cut out, leaving only leggings; but for all this they seemed to understand the drill remarkably well for indians. the commands, of course, were given to them in their own language by major north, who could talk it as well as any full-blooded pawnee. the indians were well mounted, and felt proud and elated because they had been made united states soldiers. major north had for years complete control over these indians, and could do more with them than any man living. that evening, after the parade was over, the officers and quite a number of ladies visited a grand indian dance given by the pawnees, and of all the indians i have seen, their dances excel those of any other tribe. next day the command started. when encamped, several days after, on the republican river, near the mouth of the beaver, we heard the whoops of indians, followed by shots in the vicinity of the mule herd, which had been taken down to water. one of the herders came dashing into camp with an arrow sticking in him. my horse was close at hand, and mounting him bareback, i at once dashed off after the mule herd, which had been stampeded. i supposed certainly that i would be the first man on the ground, but i was mistaken, however, for the pawnee indians, unlike regular soldiers, had not waited to receive orders from their officers, but had jumped on their ponies without bridles or saddles, and placing ropes in their mouths, had dashed off in the direction whence the shots came, and had got there ahead of me. it proved to be a party of about fifty sioux who had endeavored to stampede our mules, and it took them by surprise to see their inveterate enemies, the pawnees, coming at full gallop at them. they were not aware that the pawnees were with the command, and as they knew it would take regular soldiers some time to turn out, they thought they would have ample opportunity to secure the herd before the troops could give chase. we had a running fight of fifteen miles, and several of the enemy were killed. during this chase i was mounted on an excellent horse, which colonel royal had picked out for me, and for the first mile or two i was in advance of the pawnees. presently a pawnee shot by me like an arrow, and i could not help admiring the horse he was riding. seeing that he possessed rare running qualities, i determined to get possession of the animal in some way. it was a large buckskin or yellow horse, and i took a careful view of him, so that i would know him when i returned to camp. after the chase was over i rode up to major north and inquired about the buckskin horse. "oh yes," said the major; "that is one of our favorite steeds." "what chance is there to trade for him?" i asked. "it is a government horse," said he, "and the indian who is riding him is very much attached to the animal." "i have fallen in love with the horse myself," said i, "and i would like to know if you have any objections to my trading for him if i can arrange it satisfactorily with the indians?" he replied, "none whatever, and i will help you to do it; you can give the indian another horse in his place." a few days after this i persuaded the indian, by making him several presents, to trade horses with me, and in this way i became the owner of the buckskin steed; not as my own property, however, but as a government horse that i could ride. i gave him the name of "buckskin joe," and he proved to be a fine buffalo hunter. in the winter of 1872, after i had left fort mcpherson, buckskin joe was condemned and sold at public sale, and was bought by dave perry, at north platte, who in 1877 presented him to me, and i owned him until his death in 1879. the command scouted several days up the beaver and prairie dog rivers, occasionally having running fights with way parties of indians, but did not succeed in getting them into a general battle. at the end of twenty days we found ourselves back on the republican. hitherto the pawnees had not taken much interest in me, but while at this camp i gained their respect and admiration by showing them how i killed buffaloes. although the pawnees were excellent buffalo hunters, for indians, i have never seen one of them kill more than four or five in a single run. a number of them generally surround the herd and then dash in upon them, and in this way each one kills from one to four buffaloes. i had gone out in company with major north and some of the officers, and saw them make a "surround." twenty of the pawnees circled a herd and succeeded in killing only thirty-two. while they were cutting up the animals another herd appeared in sight. the indians were preparing to surround it, when i asked major north to keep them back and let me show them what i could do. he accordingly informed the indians of my wish, and they readily consented to let me have the opportunity. i had learned that buckskin joe was an excellent buffalo horse, and felt confident that i would astonish the natives. galloping in among the buffaloes, i certainly did so by killing thirty-six in less than a half-mile run. at nearly every shot i killed a buffalo, stringing the dead animals out on the prairie, not over fifty feet apart. this manner of killing was greatly admired by the indians, who called me a big chief, and from that time on i stood high in their estimation. on leaving camp the command took a westward course up the republican, and major north, with two companies of cavalry, under the command of colonel royal, made a scout to the north of the river. shortly after we had gone into camp, on the black tail deer fork, we observed a band of indians coming over the prairie at full gallop, singing and yelling and waving their lances and long poles. at first we supposed them to be sioux, and all was excitement for a few moments. we noticed, however, that our pawnee indians made no hostile demonstrations or preparations toward going out to fight them, but began singing and yelling themselves. captain lute north stepped up to general carr and said: "general, those are our men who are coming, and they have had a fight. that is the way they act when they come back from a battle and have taken any scalps." the pawnees came into camp on the run. captain north, calling to one of them, a sergeant, soon found out that they had run across a party of sioux who were following a large indian trail. these indians had evidently been in a fight, for two or three of them had been wounded, and they were conveying the injured persons on _travoix_. the pawnees had "jumped" them, and had killed three or four after a sharp fight, in which much ammunition was expended. next morning the command, at an early hour, started out to take up this indian trail, which they followed for two days as rapidly as possible, it becoming evident from the many camp fires which we passed that we were gaining on the indians. wherever they had encamped we found the print of a woman's shoe, and we concluded that they had with them some white captive. this made us all the more anxious to overtake them, and general carr selected all his best horses which could stand a long run, and gave orders for the wagon train to follow as fast as possible, while he pushed ahead on a forced march. at the same time i was ordered to pick out five or six of the best pawnees and go in advance of the command, keeping ten or twelve miles ahead on the trail, so that when we overtook the indians we could find out the location of their camp, and send word to the troops before they came in sight, thus affording ample time to arrange a plan for the capture of the village. after having gone about ten miles in advance of the regiment, we began to move very cautiously, as we were now evidently nearing the indians. we looked carefully over the summits of the hills before exposing ourselves to plain view, and at last we discovered the village, encamped in the sand hills south of the south platte river at summit springs. here i left the pawnee scouts to keep watch, while i went back and informed general carr that the indians were in sight. the general at once ordered his men to tighten their saddles and otherwise prepare for action. soon all was excitement among the officers and soldiers, every one being anxious to charge the village. i now changed my horse for old buckskin joe, who had been led for me thus far, and was comparatively fresh. acting on my suggestion, the general made a circuit to the north, believing that if the indians had their scouts out they would naturally be watching in the direction whence they had come. when we had passed the indians, and were between them and the platte river, we turned toward the left and started toward the village. by this manoeuver we had avoided discovery by the sioux scouts, and we were confident of giving them a complete surprise. keeping the command wholly out of sight until we were within a mile of the indians, the general halted the advance guard until all closed up, and then issued an order that when he sounded the charge the whole command was to rush into the village. as we halted on the top of the hill overlooking the camp of unsuspecting indians, general carr called out to his bugler, "sound the charge!" the bugler for a moment became intensely excited, and actually forgot the notes. the general again sang out, "sound the charge!" and yet the bugler was unable to obey the command. quartermaster hays--who had obtained permission to accompany the expedition--was riding near the general, and comprehending the dilemma of the man, rushed up to him, jerked the bugle from his hands, and sounded the charge himself in clear, distinct notes. as the troops rushed forward, he threw the bugle away, then drawing his pistols, was among the first men that entered the village. the indians had just driven up their horses, and were preparing to make a move of the camp, when they saw the soldiers coming down upon them. a great many of them succeeded in jumping upon their ponies and, leaving everything behind them, advanced out of the village and prepared to meet the charge; but, upon second thought, they quickly concluded that it was useless to try to check us, and those who were mounted rapidly rode away, while the others on foot fled for safety to the neighboring hills. we went through their village, shooting right and left at everything we saw. the pawnees, the regular soldiers, and officers were all mixed up together, and the sioux were flying in every direction. the pursuit continued until darkness made it impossible to longer follow the indians, who had scattered and were leading off in every direction like a brood of young quails. the expedition went into camp along the south platte, much exhausted by so long a chase, and though very tired, every trooper seemed anxious for the morrow. it was nearly sunrise when "boots and saddles" was sounded, breakfast having been disposed of at break of day. the command started in a most seasonable time, but finding that the trail was all broken up, it was deemed advisable to separate into companies, each to follow a different trail. the company which i headed struck out toward the northwest, over a route indicating the march of about one hundred indians, and followed this for nearly two days. at a short bend of the platte a new trail was discovered leading into the one the company was following, and at this point it was evident that a junction had been made. farther along evidences of a reunion of the entire village increased, and now it began to appear that further pursuit would be somewhat hazardous, owing to the largely increased force of indians. but there were plenty of brave men in the company, and nearly all were anxious to meet the indians, however great their numbers might be. this anxiety was appeased on the third day, when a party of about six hundred sioux was discovered riding in close ranks near the platte. the discovery was mutual, and there was immediate preparation for battle on both sides. owing to the overwhelming force of indians, extreme caution became necessary, and instead of advancing boldly, the soldiers sought advantageous ground. seeing this, the indians became convinced that there had been a division in general carr's command, and that the company before them was a fragmentary part of the expedition. they therefore assumed the aggressive, charging us until we were compelled to retire to a ravine and act on the defensive. the attack was made with such caution that the soldiers fell back without undue haste, and had ample opportunity to secure their horses in the natural pit, which was a ravine that during wet seasons formed a branch of the platte. after circling about the soldiers with a view of measuring their full strength, the indians, comprehending how small was the number, made a desperate charge from two sides, getting so near us that several of the soldiers were badly wounded by arrows. but the indians were received with such withering fire that they fell back in confusion, leaving twenty of their warriors on the ground. another charge resulted like the first, with heavy loss to the redskins, which so discouraged them that they drew off and held a long council. after discussing the situation among themselves, they separated, one body making off as though they intended to leave; but i understood their motions too well to allow the soldiers to be deceived. the indians that remained again began to ride in a circle around us, but maintained a safe distance out of rifle range. seeing an especially well-mounted indian riding at the head of a squad, passing around in the same circle more than a dozen times, i decided to take my chances for dismounting the chief (as he proved to be), and to accomplish this purpose i crawled on my hands and knees three hundred yards up the ravine, stopping at a point which i considered would be in range of the indian when he should again make the circuit. my judgment proved correct, for soon the indian was seen loping his pony through the grass, and as he slackened speed to cross the ravine i rose up and fired, the aim being so well taken that the chief tumbled to the ground, while his horse, after running a few hundred yards, approached the soldiers, one of whom ran out and caught hold of the long lariat attached to the bridle, and thus secured the animal. when i returned to the company, all of whom had witnessed my feat of killing an indian at a range of fully four hundred yards, by general consent the horse of my victim was given to me. this indian whom i killed proved to be tall bull, one of the most cunning and able chiefs the sioux ever had, and his death so affected the indians that they at once retreated without further attempt to dislodge us. some days after this occurrence general carr's command was brought together again and had an engagement with the sioux, in which more than three hundred warriors and a large number of ponies were captured, together with several hundred squaws, among the latter being tall bull's widow, who told with pathetic interest how the prairie chief had killed her husband. but instead of being moved with hatred against me, as most civilized women would have been under like circumstances, she regarded me with special favor, and esteemed it quite an honor that her husband, a great warrior himself, should have met his death at my hands. iv my duel with yellow hand when the news of the terrible massacre of custer was learned, preparations were immediately made to avenge his death. the whole cheyenne and sioux tribes were in revolt, and a lively, if not very dangerous, campaign was in prospective. two days before receipt of the news of the massacre, colonel stanton, who was with the fifth cavalry, had been sent to red cloud agency, and on the evening of the receipt of news of the custer fight a scout arrived in our camp with a message from the colonel, informing general merritt that eight hundred cheyenne warriors had that day left red cloud agency to join sitting bull's hostile forces in the big horn country. notwithstanding the instructions to proceed immediately to join general crook by the way of fort fetterman, general merritt took the responsibility of endeavoring to intercept the cheyennes, and, as the sequel shows, he performed a very important service. he selected five hundred men and horses, and in two hours we were making a forced march back to hat, or war-bonnet creek, the intention being to reach the main indian trail running to the north across that creek before the cheyennes could get there. we arrived there the next night, and at daylight the following morning, july 17, 1876, i went out on a scout, and found that the indians had not yet crossed the creek. on my way back to the command i discovered a large party of indians, which proved to be the cheyennes, coming up from the south, and i hurried to the camp with this important information. the cavalrymen quietly mounted their horses and were ordered to remain out of sight, while general merritt, accompanied by two or three aids and myself, went out on a little tour of observation to a neighboring hill, from the summit of which we saw that the indians were approaching almost directly toward us. presently fifteen or twenty of them dashed off to the west, in the direction from which we had come the night before; and upon closer observation with our field glasses we discovered two mounted soldiers, evidently carrying dispatches for us, pushing forward on our trail. the indians were evidently trying to intercept these two men, and general merritt feared that they would accomplish their object. he did not think it advisable to send out any soldiers to the assistance of the couriers, for fear that they would show to the indians that there were troops in the vicinity who were waiting for them. i finally suggested that the best plan was to wait until the couriers came closer to the command, and then, just as the indians were about to charge, to let me take the scouts and cut them off from the main body of the cheyennes who were coming over the divide. "all right, cody," said the general. "if you can do that, go ahead." i rushed back to the command, jumped on my horse, picked out fifteen men, and returned with them to the point of observation. i told general merritt to give us the word to start out at the proper time, and presently he sang out: "go in now, cody, and be quick about it. they are going to charge on the couriers." the two messengers were not over four hundred yards from us, and the indians were only about two hundred yards behind them. we instantly dashed over the bluffs, and advanced on a gallop toward the indians. a running fight lasted several minutes, during which we drove the enemy some little distance and killed three of their number. the rest of them rode off toward the main body, which had come into plain sight and halted, upon seeing the skirmish that was going on. we were about half a mile from general merritt, and the indians whom we were chasing suddenly turned upon us, and another lively skirmish took place. one of the indians, who was handsomely decorated with all the ornaments usually worn by a war chief when engaged in a fight, sang out to me, in his own tongue, "i know you, pa-he-haska; if you want to fight, come ahead and fight me." the chief was riding his horse back and forth in front of his men as if to banter me, and i concluded to accept the challenge. i galloped toward him for fifty yards, and he advanced toward me about the same distance, both of us riding at full speed, and then, when we were only about thirty yards apart, i raised my rifle and fired; his horse fell to the ground, having been killed by a bullet. almost at the same moment my own horse went down, he having stepped into a gopher hole. the fall did not hurt me much, and i instantly sprang to my feet. the indian had also recovered himself, and we were now both on foot, and not more than twenty paces apart. we fired at each other simultaneously. my usual luck did not desert me on this occasion, for his bullet missed me, while mine struck him in the breast. he reeled and fell, but before he had fairly touched the ground i was upon him, knife in hand, and had driven the keen-edged weapon to its hilt in his heart. jerking his war bonnet off, i scientifically scalped him in about five seconds. the whole affair from beginning to end occupied but little time, and the indians, seeing that i was some little distance from my company, now came charging down upon me from a hill, in hopes of cutting me off. general merritt had witnessed the duel, and realizing the danger i was in, ordered colonel mason with company k to hurry to my rescue. the order came none too soon, for had it been one minute later i would have had not less than two hundred indians upon me. as the soldiers came up i swung the indian chieftain's topknot and bonnet in the air and shouted, "the first scalp for custer." general merritt, seeing that he could not now ambush the indians, ordered the whole regiment to charge upon them. they made a stubborn resistance for a little while, but it was no use for any eight hundred, or even sixteen hundred, indians to try to check a charge of the gallant old fifth cavalry, and they soon came to that conclusion, and began a running retreat toward red cloud agency. for thirty-five miles we drove them, pushing them so hard that they were obliged to abandon their loose horses, their camp equipage, and everything else. we drove them into the agency, and followed in ourselves, notwithstanding the possibility of our having to encounter the thousands of indians at that point. we were uncertain whether or not the agency indians had determined to follow the example of the cheyennes and strike out upon the warpath; but that made no difference with the fifth cavalry, for they would have fought them all if necessary. it was dark when we rode into the agency, where we found thousands of indians collected together; but they manifested no disposition to fight. while at the agency i learned the name of the indian chief whom i had killed that morning; it was yellow hand, a son of old cut nose, a leading chief of the cheyennes. cut nose having learned that i had killed his son, sent a white interpreter to me with a message to the effect that he would give me four mules if i would turn over to him yellow hand's war-bonnet, guns, pistols, ornaments, and other paraphernalia which i had captured. i sent back word to the old gentleman that it would give me pleasure to accommodate him, but i could not do it this time. the next morning we started to join general crook, who was camped near the foot of cloud peak in the big horn mountains, awaiting the arrival of the fifth cavalry before proceeding against the sioux, who were somewhere near the head of the little big horn--as his scouts informed him. we made rapid marches, and reached general crook's camp on goose creek about the 3d of august. at this camp i met many old friends, among whom was colonel royal, who had received his promotion to the lieutenant colonelcy of the third cavalry. he introduced me to general crook, whom i had never met before, but of whom i had often heard. he also introduced me to the general's chief guide, frank grouard, a half-breed, who had lived six years with sitting bull, and knew the country thoroughly. we remained in this camp only one day, and the whole troop pulled out for the tongue river, leaving our wagons behind, but taking with us a large pack train. we marched down the tongue river for two days, thence in a westerly direction over to the rosebud, where we struck the main indian trail leading down this stream. from the size of the trail, which appeared to be about four days old, we estimated that there must have been in the neighborhood of seven thousand indians in the war party. for two or three days we pushed on, but we did not seem to gain much on the indians, as they were evidently making about the same marches that we were. on the fourth or fifth morning of our pursuit, i rode ahead of the command about ten miles, and mounting a hill, i scanned the country far and wide with my field glass, and discovered a column of dust rising about ten miles farther down the creek, and soon i noticed a body of men marching toward me that at first i believed to be the indians of whom we were in pursuit; but subsequently they proved to be general terry's command. i sent back word to that effect to general crook by a scout who had accompanied me, but after he had departed i observed a band of indians on the opposite side of the creek, and also another party directly in front of me. this led me to believe that i had made a mistake. but shortly afterward my attention was attracted by the appearance of a body of soldiers who were forming into a skirmish line and then i became convinced that it was general terry's command, after all, and that the redskins whom i had seen were some of his friendly indian scouts, who had mistaken me for a sioux, and fled back to their command terribly excited, shouting, "the sioux are coming!" general terry at once came to the post, and ordered the seventh cavalry to form line of battle across the rosebud; he also ordered up his artillery and had them prepare for action, doubtless dreading another "custer massacre." i afterward learned that the indian had seen the dust raised by general crook's forces, and had reported that the sioux were coming. these manoeuvers i witnessed from my position with considerable amusement, thinking the command must be badly demoralized when one man could cause a whole army to form line of battle and prepare for action. having enjoyed the situation to my heart's content, i galloped down toward the skirmish line, waving my hat, and when within about one hundred yards of the troops, colonel weir, of the seventh cavalry, galloped out and met me. he recognized me at once, and accompanied me inside the line; then he sang out: "boys, here's buffalo bill. some of you old soldiers know him; give him a cheer!" thereupon the regiment gave three rousing cheers, and it was followed up all along the line. colonel weir presented me to general terry, and in answer to his question i informed him that the alarm of indians had been a false one, as the dust seen by his scouts was caused by general crook's troops. general terry thereupon rode forward to meet general crook, and i accompanied him at his request. that night both commands went into camp on the rosebud. general terry had his wagon train with him, and everything to make life comfortable on an indian campaign. he had large wall tents and portable beds to sleep in, and commodious hospital tents for dining rooms. his camp looked very comfortable and attractive, and presented a great contrast to that of general crook, who had for his headquarters only one small fly tent, and whose cooking utensils consisted of a quart cup--in which he made his coffee himself--and a stick upon which he broiled his bacon. when i compared the two camps, i came to the conclusion that general crook was an indian-fighter; for it was evident that he had learned that to follow and fight indians a body of men must travel lightly, and not be detained by a wagon train or heavy luggage of any kind. that evening general terry ordered general miles to take his regiment, the fifth infantry, and return by a forced march to yellowstone, and proceed down the river by steamboat to the mouth of the powder river, to intercept the indians, in case they attempted to cross the yellowstone. general miles made a forced march that night of thirty-five miles, which was splendid traveling for an infantry regiment through a mountainous country. generals crook and terry spent that evening and the next day in council, and on the following morning both commands moved out on the indian trail. although general terry was the senior officer, he did not assume command of both expeditions, but left general crook in command of his own troops, although they operated together. we crossed the tongue river to powder river, and proceeded down the latter stream to a point twenty miles from its junction with the yellowstone, where the indian trail turned to the southeast in the direction of the black hills. the two commands now being nearly out of supplies, the trail was abandoned, and the troops kept on down powder river to its confluence with the yellowstone, and remained there several days. here we met general miles, who reported that no indians had as yet crossed the yellowstone. several steamboats soon arrived with a large quantity of supplies, and once more the "boys in blue" were made happy. one evening, while we were in camp on the yellowstone at the mouth of powder river, i was informed that the commanding officer had selected louis richard, a half-breed, and myself to accompany general miles on a scouting expedition on the steamer _far west_, down the yellowstone as far as glendive creek. we were to ride on the pilot house and keep a sharp lookout on both sides of the river for indian trails that might have crossed the stream. the idea of scouting on a steamboat was indeed a novel one to me, and i anticipated a pleasant trip. at daylight next morning we reported on board the steamer to general miles, who had with him four or five companies of his regiment. we were somewhat surprised when he asked us where our horses were, as we had not supposed that horses would be needed if the scouting was to be done on the steamer. he said we might need them before we got back, and thereupon we had the animals brought on board. in a few minutes we were booming down the river at the rate of about twenty miles an hour. the steamer _far west_ was commanded by captain grant marsh, whom i found to be an interesting character. i had often heard of him, for he was, and is yet, one of the best-known river captains in the country. he it was who, with his steamer _far west_, transported the wounded men from the battle of the little big horn to fort abraham lincoln on the missouri river, and on that trip he made the fastest steamboat time on record. he was a skillful and experienced pilot, handling his boat with remarkable dexterity. while richard and myself were at our stations on the pilot house, the steamer, with a full head of steam, went flying past islands, around bends, over sand bars, at a rate that was exhilarating. presently i thought i could see horses grazing in a distant bend of the river, and i reported the fact to general miles, who asked captain marsh if he could land the boat near a large tree which he pointed out to him. "yes, sir; i can land her there, and make her climb the tree if necessary," said he. on reaching the spot designated, general miles ordered two companies ashore, while richard and myself were instructed to take our horses off the boat and push out as rapidly as possible to see if there were indians in the vicinity. while we were getting ashore, captain marsh remarked that if there were only a good heavy dew on the grass he would shoot the steamer ashore, and take us on the scout without the trouble of leaving the boat. it was a false alarm, however, as the objects we had seen proved to be indian graves. quite a large number of braves, who had probably been killed in some battle, were laid on scaffolds, according to the indian custom, and some of their clothing had been torn from the bodies by the wolves and was waving in the air. on arriving at glendive creek we found that colonel rice and his company of the fifth infantry, who had been sent there by general miles, had built quite a good little fort with their trowel-bayonets, a weapon which colonel rice was the inventor of, and which is, by the way, a very useful implement of war, as it can be used for a shovel in throwing up intrenchments, and can be profitably utilized in several other ways. on the day previous to our arrival colonel rice had a fight with a party of indians, and had killed two or three of them at long range with his rodman cannon. the _far west_ was to remain at glendive overnight, and general miles wished to send dispatches back to general terry at once. at his request i took the dispatches, and rode seventy-five miles that night through the bad lands of the yellowstone, and reached general terry's camp next morning, after having nearly broken my neck a dozen times or more. there being but little prospect of any more fighting, i determined to go east as soon as possible to engage in other pursuits. so i started down the river on the steamer _yellowstone_, _en route_ to fort beaufort. on the same morning generals terry and crook pulled out for powder river, to take up the old indian trail which we had left. the steamer had proceeded down the stream about twenty miles when it was met by another boat on its way up the river, having on board general whistler and some fresh troops for general terry's command. both boats landed, and i met several old friends among the soldiers. general whistler, upon learning that general terry had left the yellowstone, asked me to carry to him some important dispatches from general sheridan, and although i objected, he insisted upon my performing this duty, saying that it would only detain me a few hours longer; as an extra inducement he offered me the use of his own thoroughbred horse, which was on the boat. i finally consented to go, and was soon speeding over the rough and hilly country toward powder river, and delivered the dispatches to general terry the same evening. general whistler's horse, although a good animal, was not used to such hard riding, and was far more exhausted by the journey than i was. after i had taken a lunch, general terry asked me if i would carry some dispatches back to general whistler, and i replied that i would. captain smith, general terry's aid-de-camp, offered me his horse for the trip, and it proved to be an excellent animal; for i rode him that same night forty miles over the bad lands in four hours, and reached general whistler's steamboat at one o'clock. during my absence the indians had made their appearance on the different hills of the vicinity, and the troops from the boat had had several skirmishes with them. when general whistler had finished reading the dispatches, he said: "cody, i want to send some information to general terry concerning the indians who have been skirmishing around here all day. i have been trying all the evening long to induce some one to carry my dispatches to him, but no one seems willing to undertake the trip, and i have got to fall back on you. it is asking a great deal, i know, as you have just ridden eighty miles; but it is a case of necessity, and if you'll go, cody, i'll see that you are well paid for it." "never mind about the pay," said i, "but get your dispatches ready and i'll start at once." in a few minutes he handed me the package, and, mounting the same horse which i had ridden from general terry's camp, i struck out for my destination. it was two o'clock in the morning when i left the boat, and at eight o'clock i rode into general terry's camp, just as he was about to march, having made one hundred and twenty miles in twenty-two hours. general terry, after reading the dispatches, halted his command, and then rode on and overtook general crook, with whom he held a council; the result was that crook's command moved on in the direction which they had been pursuing, while terry's forces marched back to the yellowstone and crossed the river on steamboats. at the urgent request of general terry i accompanied the command on a scout in the direction of the dry fork of the missouri, where it was expected we would strike some indians. the first march out from the yellowstone was made in the night, as we wished to get into the hills without being discovered by the sioux scouts. after marching three days a little to the east of north, we reached the buffalo range and discovered fresh signs of indians, who had evidently been killing buffaloes. general terry now called on me to carry dispatches to colonel rice, who was still encamped at the mouth of glendive creek, on the yellowstone--distant about eighty miles from us. night had set in with a storm, and a drizzling rain was falling when, at ten o'clock, i started on this ride through a section of country with which i was entirely unacquainted. i traveled through the darkness a distance of about thirty-five miles, and at daylight i rode into a secluded spot at the head of a ravine where stood a bunch of ash trees, and there i concluded to remain till night, for i considered it a dangerous undertaking to cross the wide prairies in broad daylight--especially as my horse was a poor one. i accordingly unsaddled my animal and ate a hearty breakfast of bacon and hardtack which i had stored in the saddle pockets; then, after taking a smoke, i lay down to sleep, with my saddle for a pillow. in a few minutes i was in the land of dreams. after sleeping some time--i cannot tell how long--i was suddenly awakened by a roaring, rumbling sound. i instantly seized my gun, sprang to my horse, and hurriedly secreted him in the brush. then i climbed up the steep side of the bank and cautiously looked over the summit; in the distance i saw a large herd of buffaloes which were being chased and fired at by twenty or thirty indians. occasionally a buffalo would drop out of the herd, but the indians kept on until they had killed ten or fifteen. then they turned back and began to cut up the game. [illustration: in the distance i saw a large herd of buffaloes which were being chased and fired at by twenty or thirty indians.] i saddled my horse and tied him to a small tree where i could reach him conveniently in case the indians should discover me by finding my trail and following it. i then crawled carefully back to the summit of the bluff, and in a concealed position watched the indians for two hours, during which time they were occupied in cutting up the buffaloes and packing the meat on their ponies. when they had finished this work they rode off in the direction whence they had come. i waited till nightfall before resuming my journey, and then i bore off to the east for several miles, and by making a semicircle to avoid the indians, i got back on my original course, and then pushed on rapidly to colonel rice's camp, which i reached just at daylight. colonel rice had been fighting indians almost every day since he had been encamped at this point, and he was very anxious to notify general terry of the fact. of course i was requested to carry his dispatches. after remaining at glendive a single day, i started back to find general terry, and on the third day i overhauled him at the head of deer creek, while on his way to colonel rice's camp. he was not, however, going in the right direction, but bearing too far to the east, and so i informed him. he then asked me to guide the command, and i did so. on arriving at glendive i bade good-by to the general and his officers, and took passage on the _far west_, which was on her way down the missouri. at bismarck i left the steamer and proceeded to rochester, new york, where i met my family. the life of buffalo bill i the little boy of the prairie once when buffalo bill was a tiny boy of seven or eight his father's family were camping on their way to kansas. it happened that both his father and the guide were away from the little camp in search of food. it was at night and young bill cody was asleep. he was suddenly awakened by hearing a noise, and saw an indian in the act of untying and leading away his own pet pony. the boy jumped up, grasped his rifle, and said, "what are you doing with my horse?" the indian did not seem to be much disturbed at the little fellow's appearance, and said he would swap horses. little bill said he would not swap. the indian only laughed at him. then the boy held his gun ready, and said again that he would not swap; and in the end the big indian, after watching him keenly for a few minutes, quietly mounted his old pony and rode away. this is a good example of the nerve and courage which have made him as a grown man the best plainsman in our history. every boy, perhaps every man, loves to read about the days of indian fights, the camping along the trails, the crossing of the plains in prairie schooners, and the wild life that belonged to what was once called the great american desert--which now contains thousands of farms and hundreds of cities. it was a hard life; but it was so full of real adventure, of actual danger, that it had its own interest to those who lived it. and although it is gone now forever, it will always remain the most interesting part of american history to the boys of our country. that was the time when a man saved his own life day by day, absolutely and solely because he had greater courage or quicker wit than his opponent, whether that opponent was an indian, a stage robber, a flood, a prairie fire, or any other form of danger. to understand those days and the events and episodes as they occurred to the men who lived them, one must first get into one's mind the country they lived in and traveled over. it was a flat land stretching thousands of miles across the middle of the united states from the missouri river to california, with here and there a huge range of mountains running north and south, guarded on either side by long lines of foothills. sometimes there were stretches of forest; generally there was nothing but the flat plains covered with a rough wild grass. between the rocky mountains and the sierra nevada there were the alkali plains, unfit for human habitation. all this country was inhabited by indians who had been gradually driven westward from the atlantic coast, who had been treated badly by white men, and who had become a fierce race of fighters and hunters. they considered the white man their natural prey. whenever they saw a "pale face" it was fair and right in their minds to try to get his scalp; for hundreds of stories had been handed down from their fathers and grandfathers of the way in which the white man had killed their people and driven them from the land that had been theirs for centuries. over this country--a distance of two thousand miles--the buffaloes and the indians roamed, and no white man had a home. there were no cities. there were practically no towns. the white man gradually moving west had got as far as the western counties of arkansas, missouri, and iowa in 1850; the white men had settled the pacific coast in california; there were no railroads; there was no way to communicate between the missouri river and california, except on horseback or by driving huge wagons across these wild plains. any day, any moment, while the travelers were sitting in their great wagons, they might see some little specks coming toward them across the flat plain. then came a scurrying to put the wagons in a circle with the horses and mules, men and women, in the center. in a moment a band of mounted indians would rush down upon them; and unless they were ready these wild red men would ride through the train between the wagons, frighten the mules and horses, separate one wagon from another, and after killing all the human beings, carry their goods away. sometimes it happened in the night. sometimes it happened in the day. and as those who were not ready were always killed, the result was that those who lived and traveled across those plains were the keenest and shrewdest of their kind--quicker and shrewder than the indians themselves. even if the indians did not appear, it took a good hunter to keep his little caravan supplied with food. for the journey was a long one; there were many breakdowns and delays; and in order to supply food for the company the buffalo and deer of the plains had to be hunted and killed. that was the country and the people between 1850 and 1860. after the rush to california for gold, it became evident that there must be some regular system of communication between the outskirts of civilization in the east, and the outskirts of civilization in the west in california. it was just at this time that the man who is known all over the world as buffalo bill was born. buffalo bill's father was named isaac cody. he lived on a farm in scott county, iowa, near a town named le clair, and there william frederick cody was born on the 26th of february, 1846. when the california gold craze came in 1849, isaac cody, with thousands of other people, made up his mind to go across the plains to california and look for gold. but before he had much more than started he changed his mind and moved toward kansas, where he hoped to find some place to settle on the frontier. instead of taking his wife and children on such a dangerous expedition he left them with his brother, elijah cody, in platt county, missouri, and then started out in search of a new home. finally, when young william was only seven or eight years old, his father settled near fort leavenworth, kansas, and here the boy grew up in the midst of indians and the wild life of the plains, and in the very thick of the early fights that occurred between the northerners and southerners over the question of slavery. it was a hard life and only those who were naturally fitted for it lived through it. even at the age of seven or eight little bill cody naturally took to this sort of life. he loved adventure. he loved stories of indians, scouts, and desperadoes, and he could fire a rifle pretty accurately almost as soon as he could carry one. finally the family settled in salt creek valley in kansas, which was on the line of one of the two trails, or roads--if they could be called roads--that stretched for two thousand miles or more across this waste of plain and mountain to california. day after day little bill cody would go out with his father, taking his rifle, to hunt, and he always had with him a famous dog named "turk." the boy, and in fact all the children, loved turk. he was as much one of the family as any of the children, and again and again gave warning of danger. there are many instances in which the dog practically saved the lives of at least one member of the family group. one day when cody's two sisters were walking some distance from their home they heard a snarl, and looking up into a tree they saw a panther getting ready to spring upon them. old turk, who was with them, was quite as well aware of the danger as they were; and while they hid in the bushes, he sat in front of them and grappled with the panther as it jumped to reach them. the whole incident took place in a moment, and before they realized what had happened, they saw their favorite dog in the act of being killed by the panther. suddenly off in the distance they heard their brother bill's familiar whistle calling his dog. then on the instant, as they crouched there, expecting every moment to see the fight end with the death of the dog, a rifle shot rang out and the panther rolled over dead. that was a famous shot in itself for a boy of less than eight years, for both animals were rolling over and over in their fight, and it took not only nerve, but accurate aim, to hit the one and avoid the other. the family had scarcely got settled in their new home when the father, who did not believe in slavery, got into discussions with other people of the county who had been brought up to hold slaves. those were hard, dangerous men. they got angry quickly; they shot their pistols at one another without much provocation, and they feared neither death nor anything else because they were living in the midst of danger always. in one of these excited discussions as to whether slaves should be held in the new state of kansas or not, isaac cody took a firm stand on his side, and was thereupon notified that if he did not leave the country he would be shot. he had to hide frequently in different parts of his own house at night when a body of men would come to kill him, and for days and days he lived in thickets near the house, his little son bringing him food every day. once when a party had come to the house in search of his father and had failed to find him, young bill discovered that his pony was missing. he went out to look for it, and found that it had been stolen by a member of the lynching party named sharp. he cried out to the man that that was his pony; whereupon the desperado laughed at him. bill called him a coward and told him he would get even with him some day; and then suddenly getting an idea, he whistled for turk, and set the dog on the man. the dog ran up to the pony and bit his hind legs, whereupon the little horse kicked vigorously and bucked until he had thrown sharp off. then began a hot discussion between will and sharp, the one setting the dog on, the other yelling to have him called off. but in the end sharp was obliged to temporize. he returned the pony and went away as fast as he could run. so the days went on until isaac cody was obliged to leave the country. one of the famous scout's first real adventures occurred at this time. the boy was scarcely ten years old when one night the family received information that their father was coming home to see them and to stay for one night, returning to fort leavenworth in the morning. in some way the men of the community discovered that he was coming. a party was sent out to capture him as he came through a wooded gulch, and the little family sat around the hearth, most of them in tears, with the certainty that their father would be killed that night. then the instinct of the young scout came to the surface. young bill proposed that he should ride his pony to a place called grasshopper falls, where his father was staying, and warn him. the boy had been sick with a fever; but he got out of bed, mounted his pony, and started in the night to ride the thirty miles. he had only gone four or five when he heard a cry of, "halt!" instead of stopping, he leaned over indian fashion behind his pony, so that nothing but one leg showed on the side from which the call came, and there he hung as the good horse rushed at his top speed through the ambuscade. as he did not stop, the men began firing at him, and he could hear the bullets flying over him. he got through safely, however, and succeeded in getting to grasshopper falls just as his father was starting. it is interesting to know that this ride taken in the night by a sick boy not old enough to go to school was ten miles longer than the famous ride of general philip sheridan in the civil war. then came hard times for the little cody family. the father died, and the mother had no means of supporting her children and keeping up the farm. young bill, then eleven years old, made up his mind that it was his duty to support them. he could not stay at home, as he was not big enough to attend to the work of the farm. it seemed an almost impossible task, because in addition to all their poverty there was a mortgage of one thousand dollars against their farm, and if they did not pay this shortly their own home would be taken away from them. mrs. cody was a brave woman, and she felt that if it were not for that mortgage she could have managed to scrape along and keep the family alive. in the many talks which they had as to what they should do, the boy told his mother that if she could fight this claim he would try to earn the money. this was his idea. there was a firm--a famous one in the history of that part of the united states--named russell, majors & waddell, frontiersmen who had gradually built up a line of freight wagons that went from st. joseph, missouri, to san francisco, two thousand miles across the plains and mountains, carrying the freight that was shipped from the east to the west and bringing back freight from california to the east. these goods were packed in huge wagons with big canvas tops, drawn by sometimes ten and sometimes twenty teams of oxen. there was so much danger in these trips from indians and outlaws that they never started without several wagons in a little caravan, with a guard of frontiersmen all armed and ready to repel any attack from whatever source. each night they camped in certain places along the trail where there was water and, if possible, wood. they cooked their own meals. they set up their pickets and guards, and started on again in the morning to the next camp. the journey took about a month; and time and time again the whole outfit would fail to appear at the other end. it had been attacked and all the men killed by indians or by the robbers of the plains. and sometimes the next caravan would find the remnants of the wagons and the dead bodies of men and oxen. it was bill cody's idea to see if he could not get a chance to travel as what is called an "extra" on one of these caravans, and forthwith he presented himself at the office of the firm in fort leavenworth. one of the members of the firm had known his father, and so he treated the boy kindly. but he told him frankly that a boy of his age would be of no use. bill, however, said that he could ride and shoot, that he could herd cattle and do a lot of other things. he wanted to be an "extra." finally, he was so earnest in his desire, that mr. majors consented; and there is an interesting document which was signed by the two which shows what was expected and what were the dangers of such work. this paper reads as follows: "i, wm. f. cody, do hereby solemnly swear before the great and living god, that during my engagement with, and while i am in the employ of, russell, majors & waddell, i will not, under any circumstances, use profane language, that i will not quarrel or fight with any other employé of the firm, and that in every respect i will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and shall direct all my acts so as to win the confidence of my employers. so help me god." and so the "boy extra" began his work. at night he slept in a blanket under a wagon, and by day he did whatever he was given to do. day after day, week after week, they traveled slowly over the huge plains, the "bull whackers"--the men who drove the huge oxen--constantly snapping their enormous whips and urging the beasts on as fast as possible. it was a monotonous life, except when some incident occurred, and then the incident was likely to be one of life and death, depending on the quickness, accuracy of aim, and alertness of the men in the "bull train." they had gone only about thirty-five miles from fort kearny, one of the places where they stopped near the platte river, when young bill suddenly saw the three pickets drop flat on the ground, and the next moment he heard shots and saw a band of indians riding toward them. instantly the men in the bull train--all frontiersmen--made a circle of the wagons, got into the circle themselves, and began firing at the indians. the red men wheeled in a big curve, firing as they went, and then rode off a short distance on the plain out of gun shot and stood watching the white men. buffalo bill has already told this story in his own words earlier in the book. but he does not tell what it seems impossible to believe--that this boy of eleven years saved the lives of the entire outfit; and so it is well to mention the fact here. the consultation which the men had while the indians waited proved that it was useless to stay where they were. indians began to come from all quarters and outnumbered the whites ten to one. it was therefore decided to leave the train to the mercy of the indians and make a dash for a creek where they could hide behind the embankment. this was successfully carried out and they then started for fort kearny, walking in the water and keeping watch over the top of the bank. as night came on the little boy began to get tired and weak. he could not keep up with the others, and in the excitement and darkness they did not miss him as he gradually fell behind. so the little fellow was trudging along, his rifle over his shoulder, perhaps a hundred yards behind the party, when to his amazement he saw the feathered head of an indian poke over the bank before him and behind the others of his party. the indian did not see him, for he was looking toward the others. with the quickness and instinct which made buffalo bill what he was, the lad put up his rifle, and the first warning his friends had of any attack in the rear was the sound of a shot, and the sound, too, of the body of the dead indian rolling down into the creek. that was buffalo bill's first indian, and the story of the boy who had saved the bull train went all over the frontier country in an incredibly short space of time. ii little bill at school and at the traps now began days of trouble for the young frontier boy. the family difficulties were not so serious as they had seemed at first. mrs. cody was able to keep the farm, and realizing that her boy, while promising to make a good frontiersman, was not getting any education, she showed him the necessity of having the "man of the family" go to school. near their home some of the settlers had contributed money for the building of a little schoolhouse and for the payment of a teacher who was to come from the east and teach their children. mrs. cody made up her mind that bill should go there to school, and after much discussion he began his school days. those must have been strange school days as we think of school now. the little one-room shanty on the plain had nothing in it but a few boards of the simplest kind that would serve as desks, a stove, and a few, very few, books. the scholars were a wild lot, quite unused to any kind of discipline. there was no idea in their minds of promptness, of getting to school on time, of behaving while they were in school, or of studying very hard over their lessons. in fact, their parents had had very little education, and there was nothing in all that country that made people believe in any discipline. then, too, the teacher was not a very good one. in fact, it would have been hard to get a man to go out on that wild frontier who could make a living in the east. so the school was a somewhat uproarious affair. the boys had numerous fights. they came when they liked. they went hunting or fishing as they saw fit. they got a good many beatings from the teacher and laughed over them afterward. they teased the girls, and again and again the school teacher, unable to cope with them, settled matters by driving them out of the little house and locking the door. in the midst of this crowd of youngsters young bill began his first day. he was known to them all and to all their parents for miles around as the boy who had saved the bull train, as a fine shot, and as a good deal of a hero. besides this he was a terrible tease, not only to his own sisters, but to every one else's sisters. not many days had passed when a feud grew up between him and another boy of the school. this soon developed into fights, finally ending in the arrival of old turk at the school. the school, like all other houses, had no cellar. it rested a foot or two above the ground. bill's rival in the school was a boy named gobel, and he, too, owned a dog. when turk arrived in search of his young master the school was in session, and a moderate amount of order had been maintained for some time. then suddenly the scholars and the teacher heard beneath them a fierce growl, then another, then a series of howls and cries. and everyone knew that within a few inches of them, only separated by the floor, there was a fine dogfight in progress. that was enough for the scholars. they jumped over their seats, crowded out through the door, and stood around the schoolhouse watching turk and gobel's dog fight. each dog was urged on by one of the two factions. it was not long before turk had beaten his rival and driven him away with his tail between his legs. whereupon young gobel said that although his dog might be beaten, he could lick will cody. that was enough for the young frontier boy, and, in spite of all the teacher could do, a ring was soon formed by the scholars and a thoroughbred prize fight started. gobel was much larger and older than will, and the latter knew that he would be beaten shortly. he must resort to some stratagem, and though it seems strange to us now, out on that frontier, and especially to a boy who had actually been obliged to kill men to save his own life, any means of winning the fight was right. so the little fellow thinking all the time while he was in the midst of his struggle, drew his knife and stuck it into the fleshy part of steve gobel's leg. the moment steve saw the blood he screamed with terror and cried out that he was killed. thereupon all the children took to their heels and ran to tell their parents that will cody had killed gobel. then the teacher took a hand, and so did the parents of many of the children, and it looked as if it would go hard with poor bill. at all events, he did not care to stay at home, and not knowing what else to do, he ran away down the trail, happening to come upon one of the wagon trains of his first employers, russell, majors & waddell, as he ran. the boss of the outfit was a man named willis, and when the boy told his story willis promised to look after him and take him again as a boy extra, first offering to go back to the school with him and lick gobel, and the teacher too, if bill said so. it was only a few moments when gobel's father and a couple of men came up to arrest the boy, but they had to deal with men who were used to that sort of thing every day of their lives, and the pursuers soon discovered that it was wise for them to turn around and go home. but there was no more school for young cody at present, and so he again became a member of a bull train. during this short term of service with the freighters the boy had another experience which nearly ended his career, and which to any boy who lives in a pleasant home and never sees any such life can scarcely be much more than a fairy tale, it is so terrible and seems so impossible. the boy had a short time with nothing to do between trips in the winter, and he decided, as money was necessary, to go on a hunting trip with a party of trappers. there was a chance of making considerable money by trapping animals and selling their furs. as a matter of fact, the trapping was very successful, and young bill contributed distinctly his part to the family treasury. it was in the midst of this trip, while he was in an absolutely uninhabited country, making a round of his traps, that he came upon three indians, each leading a pony loaded with skins. it was a case of three to one, and the moment he discovered them they discovered him. he saw the leading indian put up his rifle and aim it at him. here was a case, one of the many that came later, when the young frontier boy unquestionably saved his life by his own quickness and skill. actually before the indian, who was no greenhorn at such matters, could aim his rifle and fire, will cody had shot him dead. the other two indians fired arrows, one of which went through the boy's hat; but without stopping, he turned around and cried, as if to his companions: "here they are! this way! this way!" and then--all this taking place in an incredibly short space of time--he wounded one indian with his revolver as the two turned and fled; so that, instead of being killed himself, he killed one indian, wounded another, overcame the third, and marched into camp with their three ponies and all the skins that they had gathered. it was on a similar trapping expedition that the following episode occurred. the boy had been so successful and had made so much money that he decided on another trip. not finding any party of men starting out, he got up an expedition of his own with a friend of his named david phillips. the two youngsters bought an ox-team wagon and started out. they were after beaver, and when they were somewhere in the vicinity of fort leavenworth they struck a country full of beaver dams. here they camped in a cave in the hillside which they fixed up for a permanent home. they stored the food they had brought and went to work setting their traps. at every hour of the day and night they were likely to run upon indians, who never waited to parley, but killed whatever white men they saw as soon as they came upon them, scalping them and leaving them dead or dying wherever they might have fallen. these two boys, therefore, were constantly on the watch. every bush, every tree, every rock, might conceal an indian, and by practicing this instinct, just as a sailor on a ship will see a sail that anyone else might think was a cloud or a speck on the horizon, these boys of the plains could discover, in a range of many miles over plain or rolling country, the slightest thing that was unusual or unexplainable. a little spot of color in a tree or bush that was not exactly the color of a winter leaf would mean to them an ambuscade of indians. the slightest impression in the earth which was different from impressions left there by nature meant the trail of a party of indians. every instant while they were moving along in the day or night their eyes were roaming over the country round about to pick out any one of these tiny but unusual signs. the boys had been attending to their work of trapping for many days without seeing any unusual sign. one night they came to their camp and had eaten supper, when their oxen began to bellow and leap about. the boys grabbed their rifles, ran to the corral, and discovered that a bear was in the vicinity. phillips fired first and wounded the animal. but that only made him the more savage. the boy just managed to leap out of the bear's way when bill fired into his mouth and killed him. but it was a close call, as the dead beast fell actually on the body of phillips. it was a case of having saved the boy's life, and the chance of returning the favor came only too soon. it was the next day, when bill cody slipped and broke his leg. the other boy carried him back to the camp, made splints, bound up his leg, and stopped the bleeding; and then the two sat down to decide what should be done. the nearest settlement was a hundred miles away. it was absolutely impossible for cody to walk that distance. his friend could not carry him, and in the fright which the bear had given the two oxen one had killed itself, and the other had become so maimed that it had to be shot. what the youngsters were to do they did not know. no one was nearer than a hundred miles, and there was no way of getting a boy with a broken leg that distance. yet it was a case of starving to death or of doing something at once. therefore the two trappers, hardly fourteen years old, decided that phillips should start at once and walk the hundred miles for assistance. to go and come back would take him twenty days at least. that meant twenty days lying in a cave for bill, without his having the power even to get up and go outside. yet there was nothing else to do, and the good nerve of the two boys was sufficient for the occasion. phillips made cody as comfortable as he could and put all the food they had near him. they figured out just how much he was to eat each day in order to hold out until assistance should be brought, and then shaking hands, phillips left him. the poor boy felt too lonely and heartbroken to eat much of anything in the first day or two. he counted the days as they passed by cutting a notch in a stick of wood each day. gradually his leg healed, and in the course of two weeks he could move about a little. that alone relieved the pressure of loneliness, for hobbling to the mouth of the cave and looking outside was a very different thing from lying perfectly still in one position day after day. he tried to use up some of the time by studying the school books which his mother had asked him to take with him, and it was in the midst of one of these attempts to pass away the hours by reading over again what he had already read a dozen times, that he looked up and saw an indian in war paint standing inside the cave gazing at him. [illustration: he looked up and saw indians in war paint standing inside the cave, gazing at him.] in a moment a dozen or more warriors had followed the first. the boy thought his last day had come, for the delay that had occurred already was a longer time than the indians usually gave any white man to live if they were in a position to put him out of existence. the chief in his guttural tones, without changing his expression at all, said: "how?" bill said: "how?" and then they looked at one another, the boy's mind flying along all the possible schemes which an expert frontiersman could think of to prolong a discussion that might possibly save his life. as he was thinking, gazing thus at the indians one after another, he suddenly recognized one of them who was a chief named rain-in-the-face, an indian whom he had once befriended in a way that the red man appreciates. it seems that once, some time before, bill had found the man in difficulty and had given him something to eat and a blanket to sleep in. instantly the boy's mind, well aware of the peculiar kind of gratitude indians feel, began to work upon this. first he showed his leg and the bandages and told the story of his mishap, gaining as much time as he could in that way. then suddenly he turned to rain-in-the-face and reminded him of how once their positions had been exactly reversed and how he had helped the indian to get what he most needed. rain-in-the-face remembered the episode perfectly, and after a consultation he told cody that although he and his friends were out in search of scalps, they would not molest him, but that that was the limit of their kindness. the indians ransacked the cave, took everything that was of value from it, leaving only a small amount of food. and yet after they were gone the boy was so thankful for the chance that had thrown this one indian in his way and had saved his life that he could not even complain of the starvation which stared him in the face. he took what little food was left and divided it up, allowing ten days beyond the twenty for the return of phillips, and kept strictly to the portion each day that would keep him in some sort of food until the thirty days were up. a day or two after the episode of the indians a heavy snowstorm set in, and lasted for so long that when it finally ceased the mouth of the cave was entirely covered with snow. that seemed almost the last straw, for little or no light came into the cave, the cold was intense, and the boy was unable to go out. hour by hour, day in and day out, he sat there, unable to read any more and without any appetite for the little food he could allow himself. three weeks passed--one day over the time in which phillips might have returned. the little fellow's mind almost gave way from the strain that was put on him as he sat there with night following day, and no change--only expectancy. twenty-eight days passed. he had but a day or so more of food. if help did not come within the next three days at the most, he would starve to death. to add to his misery, most of the wood that had been left was used up. so the boy sat on the twenty-ninth day, huddled over the little flame that he could spare himself, hardly realizing now the passage of time, when he suddenly heard his name called. it seemed to him that he must be dreaming. he sat perfectly still listening, unable even to make a reply, and then the name rang out again and was repeated time after time. with all the strength he had left he answered the call, and it was his answering cry that enabled phillips and the relief party to find the cave and begin digging through the snow. when the two boys came together bill cody's nerves gave way and he was carried out more dead than alive. but he was alive and bound to have many more of these hairbreadth escapes that make perhaps as extraordinary a record as could be told of any man who has ever lived. these adventures, which read to-day as if they came out of a wild, unreal story of adventure, happening as they did in the life of this boy not yet fifteen years old, prepared the way for a youth and early manhood of such extraordinary usefulness to the plains that cody by the time the civil war came was one of the most expert frontiersmen, guides, and scouts that existed in the united states. and yet in 1860 he was but fifteen years old, too young, in other words, to go to college to-day, younger than most boys now when they get their first shotgun or rifle. iii the pony express rider at the time when the civil war broke out cody was too young to enlist. no regiment would take him, and besides, his mother, who was in feeble health and who had all the family to look out for, begged and prayed him to stay at home, as she said it was more important for him, the man of the family, to watch over them than to put his services at his country's disposal. the boy wanted to go. it was a natural contingency for a young man brought up as he had been brought up. yet he gave up his ambition for his mother. bill promised his mother that he would never go to war as long as she was alive, but that as he must do something to earn money, he had to go to work at once. his chance came with an opportunity to join a group of men who will be read about as long as there is any history of the united states. their work only lasted a few years, but it was so extraordinary, so exciting, so near to the ideal of a life of adventure, that it stands out more important than many an era in this country's history which had greater results and extended over a longer time. the firm of russell, majors & waddell, who have already been mentioned, increased in importance because they were the only men who carried out on a large scale successfully the business of transporting freight across the desert and the mountains to california. but as california grew--and it grew very fast in a few years--there came a demand for a speedier method of communication between the western frontier in the east and the eastern frontier in the west. those two thousand miles of waste land consumed a month or more when transportation was by means of bull trains. it did not matter very much with freight, but in the transportation of money, of letters, of business arrangements that time grew to be too long for advancing civilization. the great freight transporters, therefore, conceived the idea of getting up a scheme for carrying a few letters at a much faster rate from st. joseph to san francisco by means of a single horseman riding a pony at full speed. their idea was that a man should mount a swift pony, well tried for his endurance before starting; that this man should ride fifteen miles straight out into the desert, and that at the end of the fifteen miles there should be a station, a house with a couple of men in it, who would have another pony ready. the horseman was to ride up to this shanty, jump to the ground with his bag of letters, immediately jump on the fresh pony, and rush along another fifteen miles to a similar station. some of these stations were in settlements, some were in towns, but most of them were on the bleak prairies or in the hills of the rocky mountains. the trail was the same as that used by the freight bull trains. the bull-train stations were of course used, but it was necessary to increase the number of stations. some of the divisions were longer than others. but the average was a distance of forty-five miles; that is, the man who rode one of these divisions of the two thousand miles, rode fifteen miles on one pony, fifteen miles on the second, and fifteen miles on the third. then he began his return trip of forty-five miles. the longest division was two hundred and fifty miles. sometimes the country was open and moderately easy for riding. sometimes it was up rocky gulches or through forests where the riding was hard. it required in the men the hardest kind of physique and endurance, in the ponies surefootedness as well as swiftness. sometimes in order to keep up the schedule the men were obliged to cover twenty-five miles in an hour on flat country, in order to make up for slower going in the hills. they received about one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, which was very high pay. but that gave the promoters of the scheme their choice among the best men of the frontier. the letters were carried in mail pouches or bags that hung over the saddle, and no rider was allowed to carry more than twenty pounds. in order to get as much mail within the twenty pounds as possible letters were written on tissue paper. whatever money was carried was in paper, and one eastern newspaper printed a special edition on tissue paper for use only on this famous pony express. so in the twenty pounds there were hundreds of letters. in fact, the paper was so thin that even a hundred letters would not occupy a space larger than that occupied by an ordinary monthly magazine to-day. the mail pouches were waterproof, and once locked at st. joseph, missouri, they were not opened until they were delivered in sacramento, california, two thousand miles away. it seems almost incredible, but that distance was covered in a time that was extraordinarily short for those days, when one remembers that the whole journey was made by running ponies. it was an exciting time when the first pony was ready and saddled at the offices of russell, majors & waddell, in st. joseph. a large crowd gathered long before the appointed time for starting, and when the pony was brought forth he was greeted with cheers. at the exact moment a frontiersman came out of the office, threw the pouch over the saddle, leaped on the pony, and started off at the top speed the pony was capable of, followed by the cries and cheers of the crowd. this first trip was started on the 3d of april, 1860. that journey, where the mail bags were thrown across the ponies and carried by a number of riders, took ten days to do the two thousand miles. it was an average of two hundred miles a day, or between eight and nine miles an hour for every hour of the twenty-four for ten days, including all stops and all delays. but in a short time the average trip was made regularly in nine days, and the fastest trip was made when president lincoln's inaugural address was carried over the two thousand miles in seven days and seventeen hours. when cody was looking for work he conceived the idea of enlisting as one of the pony express riders, and he went to the office of the company and asked if he could not be one of the riders. they told him that he was too young, as he was then only a little over fourteen. but he insisted he could do it, and finally they gave him the shortest trip, a ride of thirty-five miles with three changes of ponies. when the time came for him to be ready for the first trip the boy was outside of his station with his pony ready, looking across the prairie for the rider who was to bring the mail pouches from the next station. close upon time the man appeared. drawing up to the station he jumped off, threw the bag to cody, who in turn leaped into his saddle with it and started on his fifteen miles. he reached his first station on time, dismounted, and mounted a fresh pony which was standing ready, and started on the second relay. and so with the third, until he finished his thirty-five miles and threw the bag to the next man, who was waiting. and within an hour he was ready again for the rider coming from the direction of san francisco. as soon as he had the mail he mounted a fresh pony and rode back over the same thirty-five miles. thus the boy did seventy miles every day for three months. but endurance was not the only quality the rider must have. through most of the whole route there was constant danger of a "hold up" either from indians or from outlaws, who knew that the bag frequently contained money. he must be as alert and as good a frontiersman in the knowledge of indian warfare as he was a good horseman. it was some time before the boy had any incident other than the ordinary episodes of the long ride. however, the time came. he was riding as fast as his pony could go through a ravine one day when there sprang out in front of him in the narrow track a man with his rifle at his shoulder. young cody knew enough to know that the man had what was called the "drop" on him. there was nothing to do but pull up and await events. it was a white man--a desperado of the plains. he told the boy that he meant him no harm, but that he wanted the money in the bag. cody could do nothing but sit quietly on his pony. but always alert, always on the watch for every opportunity, in a situation that, young as he was, he had been in many times before, he kept a keen eye on the man while appearing to submit. the outlaw was careless enough to approach the pony from the front, and as he got within reach the young horseman by a trick that he had used many times before made the pony rear so suddenly that his fore foot struck the man in the head and knocked him senseless. bill knew that somewhere in the vicinity the highwayman had a horse. he at once dismounted, bound the man hand and foot while he was insensible, and then began to hunt for the horse in the bushes. he found him a few rods away, and when he got back his opponent had come to. unbinding his legs, bill forced him to mount his own horse, and then strapped him on. although the young pony expressman was late at the next station, the fact that he had brought in a robber and had saved his mail pouch was quite sufficient excuse for the delay of the mail that day. at the end of a few months the work proved too severe for him to continue, and he was laid off as supernumerary--that is, a man who could be called on to ride in any emergency. it was not long, however, before he made application for another job on the pony express. he went to fort laramie and looked up a man named slade, who was agent of the line there. slade told him he was too young, but on hearing his name he slapped him on the shoulder and said that he had heard of him before and that he would give him a job. this run was from red buttes to a place called three crossings, and the distance was seventy-six miles. the boy started running this route regularly each day, and for a time had no unusual experience. one day, however, having made the run out of seventy-six miles, he found, when he arrived at his last station, that the man who was supposed to carry the bag to the next station, a distance of eighty-five miles, had been wounded by indians. bill offered to go on and carry the bag over that man's section, and as there was no one else to do it he was sent on. this second division covered a distance of one hundred and sixty-one miles. that made one continuous route of three hundred and twenty-two miles out and back without stopping. in that time he rode twenty-one ponies and made the longest trip ever made by a pony express rider. it was while on this route that one day he suddenly came upon a man who appeared from behind a large rock as cody passed. there was no time for thought, and bill immediately reached for his revolver, but upon seeing him the man dropped his rifle and came forward. he turned out to be a famous character of the plains named "california joe," and on seeing the young boy he immediately asked him if he were not bill cody. then the frontiersman told him that a little way back on the road he had what he called "a little misunderstandin' with two men, and now i has to plant 'em." it was only a little later that, as bill left one of the stations, the boss called to him to look out, there were reports of indians in the vicinity. cody said he would, and started away at breakneck pace. here again, as many times before and after, the boy's instinctive knowledge and immediate perception of anything, no matter how small, that was unusual or unnatural on the plains saved his life. always keeping a keen watch, he suddenly saw above the top of a pile of rocks something that he knew was not put there by nature. it was a little speck of color, and long before any average human being would have seen it at all he knew that it was a feather in the headdress of an indian in war paint. he did not stop or turn. he kept on at his furious pace until he was within rifle shot. then ducking behind his pony, he turned him instantly off the trail, and at the same moment a puff of smoke from behind the rock showed that his guess had been true. the bullet went where the rider should have been, but it missed by the swerve which he had caused the pony to make. out sprang two warriors, and a party of indians appeared from a little distance further away. and now it became a ride for life. as he approached the end of the valley, which narrowed into a point, he saw that some of the indians on the slopes were riding down to cut off his track. he watched his opportunity, and luckily for him those indians had no rifles. he saw them fit the arrows to their bows, waited for the right moment, and just before the leading indian fired his arrow the boy shot him with his revolver. when he reached the next station he found that his pony had two arrows sticking in its flesh. at this time the pony express had to be stopped for some time on account of the number of indians who were lying in wait all along the trails to capture the riders, and so the boy was once more out of a job. he became a supernumerary again, and as there were days in which he had nothing to do, he was in the habit of going out hunting, selling the skins of the animals he shot. on one of these trips he came upon a group of horses tied near a stream, and hearing voices in a dugout cave near by, he went to investigate. it turned out that the men were a group of prairie ruffians. they supposed him to be an advance scout in search of themselves, and for a few moments there was a quick play of wit against wit. they asked him where he came from. he pointed backward. they asked where his horse was. he said it was down by the stream. they asked him to go and get it and join them. he said he would, volunteering, with the keenness of men whose lives are always at stake, to leave his gun with them. that allayed suspicion for the moment, but they even went so far as to send two of their number with him. the boy, as they reached the horse, carelessly said that he had shot some game and would pick it up, in the meantime asking the men to lead his horse on ahead. then turning behind the second man, he struck him a blow with his revolver and shot the other. mounting his pony, cody then dashed down the ravine. in a moment the whole party were after him. it was certain that he would soon be overtaken, as his own pony was tired and theirs were fresh. bill turned the corner of some rocks and, dismounting, gave the pony a slap and sent him tearing down the ravine, while he himself hid in the bushes and watched the whole party tear by in the pursuit of the riderless horse. he then calmly walked back to the station at horseshoe and told of the adventure. such experiences as this followed one after another, until in 1863, with the civil war in full progress, cody, then seventeen years old, received word that his mother was dying. he went immediately to their home, and arrived in time to see his mother before she died. it was a sad household that gathered together after the burial, and when the children talked over what they should do, they were astonished to hear that cody had made up his mind to enlist at once in the northern army. he had kept his word with his mother and had not become a soldier as long as she lived; but now that she was dead and the family homestead out of debt, he was free from all promises. he at once enlisted, and his regiment was soon ordered to the front, but the young man was so able as a scout that he soon came to be used on special duty. then, too, his fame as a plainsman was well known, and it reached military headquarters long before he himself arrived. he was at once selected, therefore, as a bearer of military dispatches at fort larned, and one of his first escapades took place soon after he was put upon this work. some of the southerners bore a grudge against him that dated back to the time when he had saved his father from them. these men--now on the southern side--heard of his journey and laid in ambush by a stream in a gulch where it was necessary for him to cross on account of the ford. they hid their horses in a clump of trees and went to a cabin near the ford to wait for his arrival. darkness came on before he reached the spot, and as by this time the young man had acquired the habit of absolutely observing everything at all times about him, he soon discovered the fresh tracks of horses. without any other object than the natural instinct to find the reason for everything that presented itself, he quietly dismounted, followed the trail, and found the five horses. it was evident that there were five men near by watching for him. the only thing to do was to ride on as quietly as possible and try to make the ford. he was in the act of entering the water when he heard their cries, and, urging his horse into the stream, he turned in his saddle, and before any of the five could pull a trigger he had shot one of them. still he spurred the horse on, turned again and shot another. but the others were firing now, and so cody fell forward across his horse and was lucky enough to make the other side of the stream. there he was safe, because the other three were not mounted. when the scout returned with answers to the dispatches he became very wary as he approached the ford. there were no signs, however, of an attacking party, and, coming up to the shanty, he found one of the men whom he had shot dying there alone. the man had been left by his pals with enough food to last him until he should die, and bill discovered that he was a man whom he had known from his earliest boyhood, and who had been a supposed friend of his father. as the man was near his end, the boy gave him water and sat by him until he died. he then returned to fort larned. iv "bill cody, the scout" with his entrance into the united states army "bill cody," as he had come to be known, arrived at man's estate, although he was scarcely eighteen years of age. he was known not only all over the west, but every army headquarters knew of the skillful frontiersman, and even at that early date most boys of the united states had read some part of his life in the newspapers. now his work became that of a man, and he had plenty of narrow escapes during the war, which in their way were as remarkable as his experiences on the plains. for example, once general smith, who was in charge of headquarters at memphis, got hold of him and told him that he wished to get some information and have some maps drawn of the position of the confederate troops; and that it was impossible to secure this unless he could find a man who would go into the confederate camp in disguise. cody immediately consented to go. it did not seem any more dangerous or any less honorable than carrying out the regular life of a scout and indian hunter of the plains. just before the trip he had captured a man whom he knew, but who sided with the southerners--a man named nat golden, who had been one of russell, majors & waddell's freightmen. on this man he found some dispatches, which he promptly read. golden was such an old friend that cody took the papers from him, and when the man was arrested, nothing being found on him to make him a spy, he was simply imprisoned. bill never told. with these papers in his possession and dressed in the confederate uniform, the spy entered the confederate lines, after telling general smith what was in the dispatches. he was, of course, immediately halted by the pickets, to whom he stated that he was a confederate soldier with information for the general. after being disarmed he was taken to general forrest, and a conversation then took place in which cody told forest that golden had been captured, and that as he was being taken prisoner he had handed cody the dispatches, asking him to take them to general forrest. the story seemed so plausible that the general allowed him to stay in camp. and for two days he kept his eyes open, drew plans, and was ready to leave, when he came near losing his presence of mind, as well as his life, by discovering general forrest talking with golden himself, who had escaped from the union lines. he knew that there was no time for delay. golden, having no idea that cody was in the confederate lines, would tell forrest the whole story as it actually happened, and the general would at once have him arrested. he went, therefore, apparently in great calmness, to his tent, got his horse saddled, and rode quietly toward the picket line. no one suspected that anything was the matter. no one paid any attention to him. as he got to the picket the sergeant spoke to him, recognized him, and allowed him to pass. he was outside the lines--in fact, he was between the union and the confederate lines--when he heard the sound of a squad of cavalry approaching. then he put his horse to the run and in a moment discovered that a troop of confederate cavalry was approaching from behind to meet a troop of union cavalry approaching from the front. the one thought a spy was escaping; the other thought that a deserter or a spy was approaching. it was a hard situation. fortunately, he got into some timber, and as he came out on the other side he discovered the union lines. but it was not safe for him to approach in confederate uniform, and so, with the knowledge that the confederate cavalry was looking for him in the woods, cody calmly dismounted at the spot where he had left his uniform, changed his clothes, and was able to lay his maps and report before general smith within forty-eight hours from the time he had left. after some further experiences with the force at the front, cody was assigned to duty at st. louis. office work palled on him, however, and he soon procured his release, as the war was practically over. he then returned to fort leavenworth and looked again for a job. this time it turned out to be the work of driving the famous overland stage which ran from st. joseph to sacramento, doing the two thousand miles in nineteen days on the average. this stage was another of the enterprises of the great firm of russell, majors & waddell. it was a difficult enterprise, too. the stage frequently carried large sums of money, and was therefore frequently held up by desperadoes or indians. no one seemed very anxious to undertake the work of driver, although it was well paid. and the now famous indian scout saw his opportunity again of making relatively large sums of money by taking risks that few others would take. he was at once offered the opportunity on his application, and started driving the coach for what was called a division--that is, two hundred and fifty miles. those were strange old coaches. one of them may be seen to-day by any boy who will go to buffalo bill's famous wild west show and watch the old deadwood coach drive around the ring. they were large-wheeled wagons swung on braces. they had to be strong, for they went over the most frightful roads one can imagine. passengers could ride inside or on top, and every one who traveled went as fully armed as he could. there never was a time in the night or day when the coach was not apt to be attacked. and if it were attacked, the man on the box was the first one shot. cody's run was from fort kearny to plum creek, and he drove six horses. when he took hold of the job he was warned that indians were all about, and rumors came thicker and thicker in the first month of his driving. nothing happened, however, with the exception of one trip, where he saved the coach and the lives of all in it by a daring rush through a stream in the face of a party of indians. but shortly after this he was told by the division superintendent, as he left fort kearny, that in the coach was a very large amount of money being sent in a box to plum creek. it was a question whether the existence of this treasure had become known or not. at any rate, cody said he would be on the watch. first, before mounting on the box, he looked over the passengers--and here again was the same habit of looking at everything and everybody that might have any relation to the situation. he did not like the looks of two of the passengers, and as the conductor, who always traveled with the driver on the trip, was suddenly prevented from going, his suspicions became keener. again the keen boy decided that the thing to do was to take time by the forelock. he had proceeded only a part of the distance after all but the two passengers had left when he pulled up the coach and got down as if to examine the running gear. then he asked the two men to help him. as they started to come out of the coach cody pointed two revolvers at them and held them up in the most approved fashion. he made them throw out their revolvers, then bound them and put them back in the coach. something that one of the men had said made him think that they were part of a gang, the other members of which were somewhere in ambush along the trail. on reaching the first relay station he deposited his prisoners with the agent and then started on. there were no other passengers. he had no sooner gotten away from the station than, stopping again, he cut open one of the cushions of the coach, and taking the money from the box, put it inside the cushions and then patched up the opening. after that he remounted the box and rode on. within an hour, while driving through a bit of timber, the expected happened. the coach was held up by half a dozen men. they started to look for the treasure. cody told them a long story of two men who had been riding as passengers, who had held him up in a lonely spot, taken the treasure, and disappeared into the timber. the gang immediately recognized their confederates, and in a fury at being thus deceived, they waited only long enough to ask him if they were mounted. on receiving an answer that they were not and also a description of the direction they had taken, the highwaymen left him in peace and rode in hot haste after their confederates. and the driver of the overland stage finished his journey and deposited the treasure into the hands that it was intended for. v the indian campaigns with the army anyone who will read the history of the united states after the civil war will come upon a long series of campaigns of the united states army in the west against the american indians. these indians, as has already been said, constantly being more and more confined, had now only the great american desert and the rocky mountains to live upon. they existed there in enormous numbers. they hunted the almost limitless herds of buffalo and deer. they fought, whenever opportunity offered, whatever white men came upon them. the attempt of the government was to give the indians certain territories on which they could live in different parts of that country. these territories were called indian reservations, and some of them still exist; but at that time--that is, between 1870 and 1880--the indians were still in their native wild civilization, and declined to be limited to these reservations. they had no desire to become farmers. they wanted to roam over the plains, and hunt, and fish, and live as they were born to live. they could not be made like white men. and hence the result was a series of campaigns which gradually exterminated most of them and killed the spirit of the others. one of these campaigns was the famous fight of general custer, whose command was practically annihilated in the famous battle of little big horn. here again the qualities of cody came into great demand. he was one of the greatest scouts in these indian campaigns. his experiences, his fights, would number into the hundreds in a short decade. general sheridan, who was put in command of the troops to quell the indian uprising, made him the chief of his scouts, and during these years he was constantly at work leading the american troops against the indians. some time before he had acquired the name which now every boy in this country and almost every boy in the civilized world knows him by--"buffalo bill"--and the story of how this name was given to him is well worth the telling. cody had always been a great shot--not only an accurate, but a wonderfully quick shooter. this skill and quickness had saved his life many times. when he was not at work at some specific duty he would hunt buffaloes, riding forth over the plains on a horse he had trained to hunt. as a herd of buffaloes--and there were hundreds of them--was seen approaching some camp where cody was, he would mount his horse, throw the reins on his neck, and sit quietly while the animal ran diagonally toward the herd at full speed, selected of his own will the last of the herd, and worked with all his keen, nervous ability until he brought his rider close alongside the shaggy animal. there is but one spot that is very vulnerable in a buffalo. you may shoot a dozen times and hardly wound him, but if one shot reaches the vital spot, the animal drops dead in his tracks. again and again the men of the plains have seen cody start out on his horse and within a few minutes from the firing of the first shot drop ten or a dozen of the wild beasts of the prairie. the story of how the name of buffalo bill came to be given to him by common consent is this: there was a man named william comstock who had been called by his friends "buffalo bill" because he was such a successful buffalo hunter. when he heard that cody was being called "buffalo bill" too, he disputed his right to that title. cody heard of it, and told some of the officers of the army post that if there was any dispute, he for one was willing to settle it by an actual contest in buffalo killing. comstock was as game as cody, and accepted the challenge. and so the plainsmen arranged the contest. they settled upon a huge tract of prairie near sheridan, kansas, and when the appointed day arrived everybody who could reach the spot came to witness the contest. officers, soldiers, railroadmen, scouts, pioneers, and all the inhabitants of that country gathered in a large crowd. judges were appointed and the two claimants to the title were on hand. it was an easy matter in those days and in that place to find a herd of buffaloes, so that within an hour after the start they had sighted a herd and started for the hunt. as soon as the herd was sighted the two men separated, each working on his own account and getting all the buffaloes he could. cody killed thirty-eight, to twenty-three for comstock, and the sight of sixty-one buffaloes lying dead upon the plain must have been a wonderful one. then they had a gala lunch, and in the afternoon started again. and then the final crowning feat was apparent. in the second contest cody, in order to leave no doubt of the matter, rode his horse without either saddle or bridle, and even then he killed eighteen to the other's fourteen. from that time on to this day no one has questioned his right to the title of "buffalo bill." it would be impossible here to go into the many episodes that occurred while bill, under the title of colonel william f. cody, was chief of the united states army scouts. it is only possible to say that in that capacity he not only made it possible for the united states army to accomplish a work impossible without scouts who had been brought up in that kind of fight, but it is safe to say that if general custer had had him with him, the frightful massacre of little big horn would never have occurred. but in all that time buffalo bill was at work upon his chosen profession, with the exception of a short time when, against his will, he was made a justice of the peace. there is an interesting and amusing episode told of his short legal career that is worth mentioning briefly here. shortly after his appointment, which was made because of the necessity of having a justice of the peace at hand in the army post, a couple came to him to be married. he was very much disturbed and embarrassed, scarcely knowing what to do, but he got along all right until the end of the service, and then, to the amazement of the assembled party, he ended all by saying: "whom god and buffalo bill hath joined together, let no man put asunder." in the midst of these years of scouting in the indian fights the great western scout was always in difficulty as to the management of his financial affairs. he always has said that he was not born a business man. when he had money he spent it like a gentleman, no matter how much it was. once when he was not busy in indian campaigning he conceived the idea of representing on the stage certain phases of life on the plains in order to make some money. the first venture took place in rochester, new york. in order to make the show as realistic as possible, he himself and two other scouts were put into a play written especially for them, and the descriptions of the first performance make an episode in buffalo bill's life that must have been as amusing and as extraordinary as the episodes of his life on the plains were exciting and dangerous. the three were stagestruck from the time the curtain went up, and all of them forgot their lines. but buffalo bill, finding that nothing was going to happen and realizing that the audience were sitting in their seats expecting something to happen, answered the questions put to him by the manager and told a story. that poor manager must have had a bad quarter of an hour. he was also taking part in the piece, and was utterly at a loss what to say or do. bill told a story of one of his experiences on the plains in his own language. this proving to meet with the approval of the audience, the manager continued asking questions, drawing forth story after story, so that when the play ended the audience felt full of enthusiasm for the extraordinary show, which in reality did not contain one single line of the original drama. the scheme was not successful, however, and some years later buffalo bill got together some friendly indian chiefs and some frontiersmen and constructed a simple play of the plains which was an immense success. at different times for five years this play--"the scout of the plains"--was played in nearly every city of any size in the united states. frequently it would be having a run in some town when word would come from a commanding officer at a western army post that the indians were on the warpath again. then the play would be closed, and the scouts, with their chief at their head, would hasten to the plains and begin again their real warfare, returning to the sham fights of the play when the real ones were over. and it was this remarkable success in representing to people in eastern cities the actual life on the plains that gave colonel cody the courage to carry out an idea which had been in his mind for many years--that is, of putting before people a true representation of the different phases of the life in that immense country, thousands of miles in length and width, which existed between 1840 and 1870, and which has now gone forever. vi buffalo bill and his show there is only a word to be said of buffalo bill's "wild west," because the space at our command does not make it possible to tell the whole story in detail. the enterprise is now one of huge proportions, but it started much smaller. the reason for its enormous popularity and increase is that it is almost unique among plays or shows of every kind. for it gives to the audience a real picture, with real characters, of a most exciting period of civilization in this country that never has existed anywhere else, and that never will exist again. the indians that have mock fights in buffalo bill's arena to-day are absolutely the same men who used to track him and try to kill him in the indian campaigns twenty or thirty years ago. the deadwood coach that is attacked in the arena by indians with the shooting of guns is the same coach that used to run across the plains and that has time and time again been attacked in the same way, but with very different intent. the cowboys and frontiersmen who ride are the same men who used to live on the plains and herd cattle, and the ponies they ride are the bucking bronchos of the west. there have often been doubts expressed as to the reality of some of this. one instance is enough to show the contrary. when the great wild west show went to europe and traveled about in the ancient cities of italy, they came finally to rome and gave their daily exhibition there. in one of the boxes sat an italian nobleman, the prince of sermonetta, who made the statement to his friends that he doubted whether the broncho busters--the men who ride the bucking bronchos--were really as good riders as they seemed. he thought the ponies were trained to buck. this came to the ears of buffalo bill, and he answered it in his usual polite but sturdy fashion. then the nobleman met him and told him that he had some wild horses on his estate in the country that had never been ridden and could not be controlled except in a mass. buffalo bill at once said that if he would have the horses brought to his arena some afternoon during the show he would like to have his men make a try at riding them. nothing pleased the nobleman more, and of course the experiment was advertised all over italy. on the appointed day the horses were brought on in cars. there was considerable difficulty and a good deal of excitement in getting them out of the cars and into the arena. as soon as they found themselves loose after being cooped up in such undignified fashion, they were wild indeed. the arena was cleared of everything except those furious beasts, and then half a dozen cowboys calmly walked in with their lariats to make the trial. it was probably the most interesting exhibition ever given by the wild west show. quietly and warily the cow punchers threw their lassoes, wound them about the feet of the horses, threw them, and held them down. then they saddled and bridled them, and then the riding began. the show was not materially delayed; the audience left and got home at the usual time; but before they had quitted the arena every one of the wild horses was ridden quietly and in dignified fashion around the ring and up in front of the nobleman's box, and it was reported that no one was more pleased than that same nobleman himself. there are many additional and interesting features to buffalo bill's show to-day, such as the cossack riders, the san juan battle, and the regiments of different european armies. but they do not add to the value of what will go down in history as "buffalo bill's wild west." that is all true as gold. that is justly remarkable because of the real way in which it tells a real story, and if the boy of to-day who reads this would like to see what the indians and the white men of the western plains were in those days, how they fought, how they traveled, and how they lived, he may see it still by going to see the show. he will never see it anywhere else again. in ending this little sketch of a remarkable man it is worth telling an episode of the experience of these natives of the wilderness in the midst of the centuries-old cities of the old world. everywhere the company went in england, in europe, the famous scout was entertained by royalty and entertained them in return. one day after they had opened in london the king, then the prince of wales, expressed a desire to see the show. a box was prepared and the royal party attended. the whole exhibition was so new and interesting that in a short time the prince went again, and expressed a desire to ride around the ring in the deadwood coach. buffalo bill was ready and called for five passengers. the five passengers who accepted were the prince of wales himself on the box beside buffalo bill, and four kings who happened to be visiting in england--the king of denmark, the king of saxony, the king of greece, and the crown prince of austria. as usual, the coach started. but this time the indians who attacked and the cowboys who rescued the coach had been instructed to "do something a little extra," to give a little louder yells, to fire a few more shots. and it is no wonder if, as the rumor goes--though proof does not exist--that before the ride was over some of the four kings were under the seats. when the trip was finished and the prince of wales congratulated buffalo bill, he said to him: "colonel, did you ever hold four kings like that before?" and cody replied: "i have held four kings more than once. but, your royal highness, i never held four kings and a royal joker before." the end buffalo bill's spy trailer or, the stranger in camp by colonel prentiss ingraham author of the celebrated "buffalo bill" stories published in the border stories. for other titles see catalogue. [illustration] street & smith corporation publishers 79-89 seventh avenue, new york copyright, 1908 by street & smith buffalo bill's spy trailer all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian. in appreciation of william f. cody (buffalo bill). it is now some generations since josh billings, ned buntline, and colonel prentiss ingraham, intimate friends of colonel william f. cody, used to forgather in the office of francis s. smith, then proprietor of the _new york weekly_. it was a dingy little office on rose street, new york, but the breath of the great outdoors stirred there when these old-timers got together. as a result of these conversations, colonel ingraham and ned buntline began to write of the adventures of buffalo bill for street & smith. colonel cody was born in scott county, iowa, february 26, 1846. before he had reached his teens, his father, isaac cody, with his mother and two sisters, migrated to kansas, which at that time was little more than a wilderness. when the elder cody was killed shortly afterward in the kansas "border war," young bill assumed the difficult role of family breadwinner. during 1860, and until the outbreak of the civil war, cody lived the arduous life of a pony-express rider. cody volunteered his services as government scout and guide and served throughout the civil war with generals mcneil and a. j. smith. he was a distinguished member of the seventh kansas cavalry. during the civil war, while riding through the streets of st. louis, cody rescued a frightened schoolgirl from a band of annoyers. in true romantic style, cody and louisa federci, the girl, were married march 6, 1866. in 1867 cody was employed to furnish a specified amount of buffalo meat to the construction men at work on the kansas pacific railroad. it was in this period that he received the sobriquet "buffalo bill." in 1868 and for four years thereafter colonel cody served as scout and guide in campaigns against the sioux and cheyenne indians. it was general sheridan who conferred on cody the honor of chief of scouts of the command. after completing a period of service in the nebraska legislature, cody joined the fifth cavalry in 1876, and was again appointed chief of scouts. colonel cody's fame had reached the east long before, and a great many new yorkers went out to see him and join in his buffalo hunts, including such men as august belmont, james gordon bennett, anson stager, and j. g. heckscher. in entertaining these visitors at fort mcpherson, cody was accustomed to arrange wild-west exhibitions. in return his friends invited him to visit new york. it was upon seeing his first play in the metropolis that cody conceived the idea of going into the show business. assisted by ned buntline, novelist, and colonel ingraham, he started his "wild west" show, which later developed and expanded into "a congress of the rough-riders of the world," first presented at omaha, nebraska. in time it became a familiar yearly entertainment in the great cities of this country and europe. many famous personages attended the performances, and became his warm friends, including mr. gladstone, the marquis of lorne, king edward, queen victoria, and the prince of wales, now king of england. at the outbreak of the sioux, in 1890 and 1891, colonel cody served at the head of the nebraska national guard. in 1895 cody took up the development of wyoming valley by introducing irrigation. not long afterward he became judge advocate general of the wyoming national guard. colonel cody (buffalo bill) died in denver, colorado, on january 10, 1917. his legacy to a grateful world was a large share in the development of the west, and a multitude of achievements in horsemanship, marksmanship, and endurance that will live for ages. his life will continue to be a leading example of the manliness, courage, and devotion to duty that belonged to a picturesque phase of american life now passed, like the great patriot whose career it typified, into the great beyond. table of contents i. the hermit of the grand cañon 5 ii. the miner's secret 14 iii. the grave at the deserted camp 20 iv. a vow of vengeance 28 v. masked and merciless 33 vi. the dumb messenger 41 vii. death and madness 50 viii. a strange burial 62 ix. the courier 67 x. doctor dick's drive 76 xi. running the gantlet 84 xii. a man's nerve 92 xiii. a volunteer 97 xiv. the way it was done 105 xv. a mysterious disappearance 114 xvi. taking chances 122 xvii. a secret kept 130 xviii. a mysterious sound 138 xix. a fair passenger 143 xx. masked foes 151 xxi. the sacrifice 159 xxii. the ransom 168 xxiii. the outlaws' captive 181 xxiv. the two fugitives 186 xxv. the outlaw lover 195 xxvi. the secret out 200 xxvii. the departure 210 xxviii. the lone trail 219 xxix. to welcome the fair guest 223 xxx. at the rendezvous 231 xxxi. doctor dick tells the news 239 xxxii. the miners' welcome 248 xxxiii. the council 252 xxxiv. a metamorphosis 259 xxxv. the driver's letter 268 xxxvi. the scout on the watch 272 xxxvii. the miner's mission 280 xxxviii. a leaf from the past 288 xxxix. the outlaw's confession 298 xl. tearing off the mask 303 buffalo bill's spy trailer. chapter i. the hermit of the grand cañon. a horseman drew rein one morning, upon the brink of the grand cañon of the colorado, a mighty abyss, too vast for the eye to take in its grand immensity; a mighty mountain rent asunder and forming a chasm which is a valley of grandeur and beauty, through which flows the colorado grande. ranges of mountains tower to cloudland on all sides with cliffs of scarlet, blue, violet, yes, all hues of the rainbow; crystal streams flowing merrily along; verdant meadows, vales and hills, with massive forests everywhere--such was the sight that met the admiring gaze of the horseman as he sat there in his saddle, his horse looking down into the cañon. it was a spot avoided by indians as the abiding-place of evil spirits; a scene shunned by white men, a mighty retreat where a fugitive, it would seem, would be forever safe, no matter what the crime that had driven him to seek a refuge there. adown from where the horseman had halted, was the bare trace of a trail, winding around the edge of an overhanging rock by a shelf that was not a yard in width and which only a man could tread whose head was cool and heart fearless. wrapt in admiration of the scene, the mist-clouds floating lazily upward from the cañon, the silver ribbon far away that revealed the winding river, and the songs of birds coming from a hundred leafy retreats on the hillsides, the horseman gave a deep sigh, as though memories most sad were awakened in his breast by the scene, and then dismounting began to unwrap a lariat from his saddle-horn. he was dressed as a miner, wore a slouch-hat, was of commanding presence, and his darkly bronzed face, heavily bearded, was full of determination, intelligence, and expression. two led horses, carrying heavy packs, were behind the animal he rode, and attaching the lariats to their bits he took one end and led the way down the most perilous and picturesque trail along the shelf running around the jutting point of rocks. when he drew near the narrowest point, he took off the saddle and packs, and one at a time led the horses downward and around the hazardous rocks. a false step, a movement of fright in one of the animals, would send him downward to the depths more than a mile below. but the trembling animals seemed to have perfect confidence in their master, and after a long while he got them by the point of greatest peril. going back and forward he carried the packs and saddles, and replacing them upon the animals began once more the descent of the only trail leading down into the grand cañon, from that side. the way was rugged, most dangerous in places, and several times his horses barely escaped a fall over the precipice, the coolness and strong arm of the man alone saving them from death, and his stores from destruction. it was nearly sunset when he at last reached the bottom of the stupendous rift, and only the tops of the cliffs were tinged with the golden light, the valley being in densest shadow. going on along the cañon at a brisk pace, as though anxious to reach some camping-place before nightfall, after a ride of several miles he came in sight of a wooded cañon, entering the one he was then in, and with heights towering toward heaven so far that all below seemed as black as night. but a stream wound out of the cañon, to mingle its clear waters with the grand colorado river a mile away, and massive trees grew near at hand, sheltering a cabin that stood upon the sloping hill at the base of a cliff that arose thousands of feet above it. when within a few hundred yards of the lone cabin, suddenly there was a crashing, grinding sound, a terrific roar, a rumbling, and the earth seemed shaken violently as the whole face of the mighty cliff came crushing down into the valley, sending up showers of splintered rocks and clouds of dust that were blinding and appalling! back from the scene of danger fled the frightened horses, the rider showing no desire to check their flight until a spot of safety was reached. then, half a mile from the fallen cliff, he paused, his face white, his whole form quivering, while his horses stood trembling with terror. "my god! the cliff has fallen upon my home, and my unfortunate comrade lies buried beneath a mountain of rocks. we mined too far beneath the cliff, thus causing a cave-in. "a few minutes more and i would also have shared poor langley's fate; but a strange destiny it is that protects me from death--a strange one indeed! he is gone, and i alone am now the hermit of the grand cañon, a croesus in wealth of gold, yet a fugitive from my fellow men. what a fate is mine, and how will it all end, i wonder?" thus musing the hermit-miner sat upon his own horse listening to the echoes rumbling through the grand cañon, growing fainter and fainter, like a retreating army fighting off its pursuing foes. an hour passed before the unnerved man felt able to seek a camp for the night, so great had been the shock of the falling cliff, and the fate he had felt had overtaken his comrade. at last he rode on up the cañon once more, determined to seek a spot he knew well where he could camp, a couple of miles above his destroyed home. he passed the pile of rocks, heaped far up the cliff from which they had fallen, looking upon them as the sepulcher of his companion. "poor lucas langley! he, too, had his sorrows, and his secrets, which drove him, like me, to seek a retreat far from mankind, and become a hunted man. alas! what has the future in store for me?" with a sigh he rode on up the valley, his way now guided by the moonlight alone, and at last turned into another cañon, for the grand cañon has hundreds of others branching off from it, some of them penetrating for miles back into the mountains. he had gone up this cañon for a few hundred yards, and was just about to halt, and go into camp upon the banks of a small stream, when his eyes caught sight of a light ahead. "ah! what does that mean?" he ejaculated in surprise. hardly had he spoken when from up the cañon came the deep voice of a dog barking, his scent telling him of a human presence near. "ah! savage is not dead then, and, after all, lucas langley may have escaped." the horseman rode quickly on toward the light. the barking of the dog continued, but it was not a note of warning but of welcome, and as the horseman drew rein by a camp-fire a huge brute sprang up and greeted him with every manifestation of delight, while a man came forward from the shadows of the trees and cried: "thank heaven you are back again, pard seldon, for i had begun to fear for your safety." "and i was sure that i would never meet you again in life, lucas, for i believed you at the bottom of that mountain of rocks that fell from the cliff and crushed out our little home," and the hands of the two men met in a warm grasp. "it would have been so but for a warning i had, when working in the mine. i saw that the cliff was splitting and settling, and running out i discovered that it must fall, and before very long. "i at once got the two mules out of the cañon above, packed all our traps upon them, and hastened away to a spot of safety. then i returned and got all else i could find, gathered up our gold, and came here and made our camp. "to-night the cliff fell, but not expecting you to arrive by night, i was to be on the watch for you in the morning; but thank heaven you are safe and home again." "and i am happy to find you safe, lucas. i was within an eighth of a mile of the cliff when it fell, and i shall never forget the sight, the sound, the appalling dread for a few moments, as i fled to a spot of safety, my horses bearing me along like the wind in their mad terror." "it was appalling, and i have not dared leave my camp since, far as i am from it, for it resounded through the cañons like a mighty battle with heavy guns. but come, comrade, and we will have supper and talk over all that has happened." the horses were staked out up the cañon, where grass and water were plentiful, and then the two men sat down to supper, though neither seemed to have much of an appetite after what had occurred. but savage, the huge, vicious-looking dog, felt no bad results from his fright of a few hours before, and ate heartily. when their pipes were lighted the man who had lately arrived said: "well, lucas, i brought back provisions and other things to last us a year, and i care not to go again from this cañon until i carry a fortune in gold with me." "yes, here we are safe, and i feel that something has happened to cause you to say what you do, pard." "and i will tell you what it is," impressively returned the one who had spoken of himself as the hermit of the grand cañon. "yes," he added slowly. "i will tell you a secret, comrade." chapter ii. the miner's secret. "pard, after what has happened, the falling of the cliff, and our narrow escape from death, i feel little like sleep, tired as i am, so, as i said, i will tell you a secret," continued andrew seldon, speaking in a way that showed his thoughts were roaming in the past. "you will have a good listener, pard," was the answer. "yes, i feel that i will, and you having told me that you were a fugitive from the law, that your life had its curse upon it, i will tell you of mine, at least enough of it to prove to you that i also dare not show my face among my fellow men. "you know me as andrew seldon, and i have with me proof that i could show to convince one that such is my name; but, in reality, andrew seldon is dead, and i am simply playing his part in life, for i am not unlike him in appearance, and, as i said, i have the proofs that enable me to impersonate him. "my real name is wallace weston, whom circumstances beyond my control made a murderer and fugitive, and here i am. i entered the army as a private cavalry soldier, and worked my way up to sergeant, with the hope of getting a commission some day. "but one day another regiment came to the frontier post where i was stationed, and a member of it was the man to whom i owed all my sorrow and misfortune in life. well, the recognition was mutual, a quarrel followed, and he--his name was manton mayhew--fell by my hand, and he, too, was a sergeant. "i said nothing in my defense, for i would not reopen the story of the past for curious eyes to gaze upon, and accepted my fate, my sentence being to be shot to death. on one occasion, in an indian fight, i had saved the life of the scout buffalo bill----" "ah, yes, i know of him," said the listener earnestly. "he, in return, rode through the indian country, to the quarters of the district commander, to try and get a reprieve, hoping to glean new evidence to clear me. he was refused, and returned just as i was led down on the banks of the river for execution. "i heard the result and determined in a second to escape, or be killed in the attempt. buffalo bill's horse stood near, and with a bound i was upon his back, rushed him into the stream, swam across and escaped. "i was fired upon by the scout, under an order to do so, but his bullets were not aimed to kill me. night was near at hand, and pursuit was begun, but i had a good start, reached the desert and entered it. "the next day, for the scout's horse was worn down, my pursuers would have overtaken me had i not suddenly come upon a stray horse in a clump of timber, an oasis in the desert. "i mounted him and pushed straight on into the desert, and the next day came upon a solitary rock, by which lay the dead body of a man upon which the coyotes had just begun to feed. he had starved to death in the desert, and the horse i had found was his. "at once an idea seized me to let my pursuer believe that _i_ was that dead man; so i dressed him in my uniform, killed the horse near him, left the scout's saddle and bridle there, and started off on foot over the desert, attired as the man whom i had found there. "with him i had found letters, papers, and a map and diary, and these gave me his name, and more, for i found that the map would lead me to a gold-mine, the one in this cañon in which we have worked so well to our great profit. "i wandered back, off the desert, and you know the rest: how i came to the camp where you lay wounded and threatened with death by your comrade, black-heart bill, who knew that you had a mine which he was determined to have. "in black-heart bill i recognized a brother of sergeant manton mayhew, another man whom i sought revenge upon. hugh mayhew had also wronged me as his brothers had, for there were three of them, strange to say--triplets--manton, hugh, and richard mayhew, and to them i owed it that i became a fugitive from home. "you remember my duel with hugh mayhew, and that he fell by my hand? well, there is one more yet, and some day we may meet, and then it must be his life or mine. "taking the name of andrew seldon, and leaving all to believe that i, wallace weston, died in the desert, i came here, with you as my companion. we are growing rich, and though the cliff mine has fallen in, there are others that will pan out even better. "but, pard, when i went to the post this time for provisions, i came upon buffalo bill escorting a deserter to fort faraway, and a band of desperadoes from the mines of last chance had ambushed him to rescue the prisoner. "i went to the rescue of the scout, saved him and his prisoner, and went on my way to the post; but yet i half-believe, in spite of believing me dead, and my changed appearance with my long hair and beard, that buffalo bill half-recognized me. "i must take no more chances, so shall remain close in this cañon until ready to leave it and go far away with my fortune, to enjoy it elsewhere. "again, pard: i had written to the home of andrew seldon, whom i am now impersonating, and i find that he too, was a fugitive from the law, and that there is no reason for me to share this fortune with any one there, as i had intended to do: so now let us be lost to the world, hermits here in this weird land of mystery, the grand cañon, where no one dares come, until we are ready to seek new associations and homes elsewhere, and enjoy our riches." "pard, i thank you for your confidence, your secret. i felt that you had been a sufferer in the past, while i am sure you were not the one to do the first wrong. in all things i will be guided by you," said lucas langley warmly, and it being late the two men retired to their blankets to sleep. chapter iii. the grave at the deserted camp. two men had met in the remote wilds of the grand cañon country, as the district bordering upon the colorado river was called, having appointed a mysterious, deserted camp as a rendezvous. one of these men needs no description from my pen, hardly more than a passing pen introduction to say that he bore the name of buffalo bill. he had come alone from fort faraway, to the deserted camp over a hundred miles from the nearest habitation, to meet a new-found friend, one known in last chance claim as doctor dick, and a man of mystery. the latter was, in person, almost as striking in appearance as was handsome, dashing bill cody, for he was tall, sinewy in build, graceful, and dressed in a way to attract attention, with his cavalry-boots, gold spurs, corduroy pants, velvet jacket, silk shirt, and broad black sombrero encircled by a chain of gold links. doctor dick was not afraid, either, to make a lavish display of jewels. his weapons were gold-mounted, as was also his saddle and bridle, and from the fact that he was an ardent and successful gambler, and was supposed to be very rich, he was called in last chance the gold king. doctor dick had made his début into last chance mining-camp, by bringing in the coach, one day, with the dead body of the driver on the box by his side, and two murdered passengers on the inside. he had run off, single-handed, the road-agents who had held up the coach, and therefore became a hero at once, adding to his fame very quickly by showing that he could "shoot to kill" when attacked. signifying his intention of practising medicine and surgery in last chance, and gambling in his leisure moments, doctor dick had established himself in a pleasant cabin near the hotel, to at once become popular, and began to make money. when buffalo bill went to last chance on a special secret-service mission, to investigate the holding up of the coach, and had recognized there a deserter, whom he had orders to take "dead or alive," doctor dick had helped him out of what appeared to be a very ugly scrape, and thus the two men had become friends. becoming confidential, doctor dick had told the scout a few chapters of his life, and he alone doubted that his foe from boyhood, sergeant wallace weston--who had been reported as dying in the desert while seeking to escape--was dead, and the two, the scout and the gambler-doctor, had arranged to meet at the deserted camp and discover if the real truth could not be ascertained. so it was at the deserted camp they had met, and doctor dick had stood with uncovered head before a quaking aspen-tree, at the foot of which was a grave. upon the tree had been cut a name and date, and this told that there lay the form of hugh mayhew, killed in a duel by one whom he had wronged. it further told that hugh mayhew was known in the mines as a desperado, whose cruel deeds had gained for him the sobriquet of black-heart bill. convinced that the body in the grave was that of hugh mayhew, after he had unearthed the remains, and recognized in that decaying form his once brother--one of the triplets--doctor dick had seemed deeply moved when he told that he was the last of the trio and lived to avenge them: that he was sure wallace weston, their old foe, was their slayer, for he knew from the scout that he had killed his brother manton at the fort, and hence he would not be convinced that the grave in the desert of arizona held the body of weston until he had certain proof of it. "that man who came to your rescue, who called himself the hermit of the grand cañon, who sought to shun you after his service to you, is either wallace weston, or knows something of him, and it is his trail we must pick up on his return to his retreat, and follow to the end, before i am satisfied," doctor dick had said to buffalo bill. and so it was that the two had met at the deserted camp to pick up the trail of the hermit and follow it to the end, bring what it might to doctor dick. the trail was taken up and followed to the brink of the grandest view in all nature's marvels, the grand cañon of the colorado. to a less experienced scout than buffalo bill, there would have appeared to be no trail down into the depths of that mighty chasm, and it would have been thought that the one whom they trailed had retraced his steps from there. but the scout was not one to be thrown off the trail by any obstacle that perseverance, pluck, and hard work could overcome, and so he set about finding a way down into the cañon, though there was no trace of a traveled path left on the solid rocks upon which he stood. doctor dick's determined assertion that he did not believe his old enemy, wallace weston, to be dead, really impressed the scout in spite of the fact that he had guided lieutenant tompkins and his troopers in the pursuit of the fugitive soldier, had found the body torn by wolves, dressed in uniform, and with his own saddle and bridle, taken when he had dashed away upon his horse, lying by his side. still, in the face of all these seeming proofs, the fugitive sergeant might yet be alive and he would do all he could to solve the mystery as to whether he was or not. the scout had been anxious to go alone with the gambler-doctor in the search, for he did have the hope that, if really found, wallace weston might be reconciled with doctor dick, while, if taken by troopers, he would be returned to the fort and executed, as he was under death-sentence. buffalo bill never forgot a service rendered him, and he did not wish to see the sergeant put to death, when he was already believed to be dead, and the secret might be kept. after a long search buffalo bill found the perilous path down which the one he followed had gone with his packhorses. he revealed the fact to doctor dick, and the two, after a long consultation, decided to take the risk and make the descent into the grand valley. for men with less nerve than these two possessed it would have been impossible; and, as it was, there were times when the winding trail and dangers put their pluck to the test. at last the valley was reached, and, greatly relieved, the two went into camp before prosecuting their search further. the hermit had admitted to buffalo bill that he had a comrade dwelling with him in his retreat, wherever the retreat was. would it be that they held a secret there they did not wish known, and so would resist the intrusion of others? it might be, and that a death-struggle would follow the discovery of their retreat. still, buffalo bill was not one to dread whatever might turn up, and he had seen doctor dick tried and proven true as steel and brave as a lion. and so the search continued, the scout unerringly clinging to the trail until, just as the two felt that the retreat of those mysterious dwellers in the grand cañon was almost before them, they came upon a sight that caused them to draw rein and sit upon their horses appalled at the scene presented to their view. what they saw was the fallen cliff, and there, just peering out from among the piles of rocks, was the shattered end of a stout cabin. they had found the secret retreat, but they stood there feeling that those who had dwelt in that ruined cabin were beyond all human eye, buried beneath a monument of rocks an army could not remove in weeks. "and this is the end?" said buffalo bill, the first to speak, breaking a silence that was appalling. "yes, his end, for he undoubtedly lies buried there beneath that mass of rocks. if it is my foe, wallace weston, who has met such a fate, so let it be." the two did not tarry long in the cañon, for a dread of the weird spot seemed to have come over them both. doctor dick roamed about, picking up bits of rock and examining it closely, while he muttered: "it was a gold-mine that held them here, but that falling cliff has hidden the secret forever." and buffalo bill went about searching for trails, yet made no comment, whether he found any or not, to indicate that the lone dwellers in the cañon had not both perished in their cabin, and lay buried beneath the hills of rock that had fallen from the heights above the valley. but, as the two men rode away up the dangerous mountain-trail, there were eyes peering upon them they little dreamed of, and wallace weston muttered: "they believe me dead now: so let it be." chapter iv. a vow of vengeance. the night after leaving the grand cañon, buffalo bill and doctor dick camped again at the rendezvous of the deserted camp, which was marked by the grave of black-heart bill. the two friends talked until a late hour into the night, though they intended making an early start in the morning for their respective homes, the scout going to the fort, the doctor to last chance. "well, cody, you were satisfied before that sergeant wallace weston was dead, that he died in the desert, but you yielded to my belief that he lived and was none other than the hermit of the grand cañon who came to your rescue some time ago; but now you are assured that, the hermit-miner being buried beneath the walls of his cabin, there is no doubt left that, if he really was wallace weston, he is surely not among the living?" "yes, doctor, i can hardly bring myself to believe that weston's body was not the one we buried in the desert, yet i grant that, it was just possible that it might not have been his." "so you give up the search wholly?" "yes, i return to my duties at fort faraway." "and i to my doctoring and gambling at last chance; but i thank you for coming with me on this trip, as my mind is made up." the doctor said no more then, but wrapped his blankets about him and lay down to rest. the next morning when the two were about to part buffalo bill said: "i wish you would keep your eye upon the suspicious characters in the mines, for i fear, with the temptations in their way to get hold of treasure in the coaches, there may be more mischief done." "i will keep a bright lookout, cody, and at once send a courier to report at the fort any lawless deeds that may be done, for i know that your support will be prompt." then the two parted, buffalo bill taking the trail for fort faraway and doctor dick going on to last chance mining-camp. but hardly had the scout disappeared from sight when the doctor halted, looked back and then slowly returned to the camp. dismounting by the grave, he stood gazing at the inscription cut into the tree for some minutes, and then turned his eyes upon the mound at his feet. "wicked, yes, hated and feared, yet my brother, and i loved him and my other brother, manton, with a love that was greater than woman's love, and i revere their memory now. "whatever they were, whatever the crimes that led to their losing their lives, i must avenge them, and i will, for wallace weston's hand it was that did the deed. "yes, he killed manton, and i am just as sure that he killed hugh, who lies here at my feet. buffalo bill believes wallace weston dead; _but i do not_! "no, i can never believe that he could die except by my hand, and some day we two will meet face to face, and then he will die, and i will be avenged for manton's and hugh's deaths; so here i vow to take the life of wallace weston, and thus avenge my brothers." he raised his right hand as he spoke, pressed his left over his heart and so registered his vow of revenge. then, mounting his horse, he rode away upon the trail he had before followed. he seemed in no hurry, rode slowly, made long noonday camps and camped early at night, so that it was the afternoon of the third day before he came in view of the scattered settlement of last chance claim. situated in a mountain cañon, which widened into a large valley after some miles, with towering cliffs, rugged passes and wild, picturesque scenery upon all sides, last chance claim, or mining-camp, was scattered along for miles, the village portion, where the hotel, stores, and gambling-saloons were, being at the upper end. as he came out of a mountain pass into the valley proper, doctor dick beheld crowds of miners hastening toward the hotel, and all were carrying their rifles and had an excited air. "well, pards, what has happened?" he asked as he put spurs to his horse and overtook a party of miners on the way to the hotel. the response he received caused him to spur forward and dash rapidly on to the head of the valley. chapter v. masked and merciless. dave dockery had taken the place of driver on the last chance trail, after bud benton had been killed on the box by unknown parties. dave dockery was as shrewd as he was brave, and bore many scars of wounds received in the discharge of his duty, his nerve and endurance, it was said, saving his life where other men would surely have been killed. the coach out from last chance had gone on its dangerous run with a very large sum in gold-dust, but dave had gotten safely through with it, and was congratulated by all who knew the chances he had taken of losing treasure and life. he had heard with regret, after reaching his eastern destination, that he was to be put to an equal strain going back, for a large sum of money in bank-bills was to be sent back to last chance in payment for several mines purchased there by outsiders. dave was told that the box contained at least thirty thousand dollars, and so he hid it away as best he could in the coach. he also was carrying out as freight a dozen rifles of the last and most improved repeating pattern, and double as many revolvers, intended for the vigilantes of last chance, and who were personally unknown to any of the miners, though it was suspected that either landlord larry, the hotel-keeper, judge, storekeeper, and proprietor of the largest gambling-saloon in the place, or doctor dick, the gambler gold king, was the secret leader. whoever the vigilante captain and his men might be, it was certain that they had a good influence over the most lawless spirits in the mines, the fact of their being unknown greatly aiding their good effect. dave dockery had hoped that he would have a stage-load of passengers upon the run to last chance, for he liked to have a crowd along, and then he felt that they were a safeguard as well, as in numbers there is strength. but, when the starting-time came, only two passengers appeared, one of them a miner going out to last chance to hunt for a fortune, and the other a young man who told dave dockery that he was only traveling from a love of adventure, and enjoyed the wild life he thus far had met with. he gave dave a bunch of good cigars, showed him a silver flask of fine brandy, and was promptly invited to ride upon the box with him, an invitation that was as promptly accepted. out of the little settlement rolled the coach, followed by a cheer from the crowd gathered to see it depart, for the going and coming of the coaches in border places are events of great moment to the dwellers there. the young man in search of adventure was upon the box with dave, and the miner passenger was inside, where it was safer for him to ride, as he was in a hopeless state of intoxication. the horses dashed away in fine style, enthused by the cheer of the crowd, and dave looked happy and proud, while his companion on the box appeared to enjoy the scene immensely. the young stranger was well dressed, for he had donned what was suitable for frontier roughing it, and wore in his belt a single revolver, as a means of defense rather than for show or bravado. he had a fine face, fearless and frank, and looked like a man of refinement and education. dave dockery was a good reader of human nature and took to his passenger at once, being really greatly pleased with his companionship. three-fourths of the trail had been gone over without adventure, the three stops at the relay-stations, for changes of horses and meals for passengers, having been made on time, and last chance was only a dozen miles away, when, as they neared a dreary-looking spot in a gorge, dave said: "there is where poor bud benton passed in his chips, pard, and i tell you i don't like the spot a bit." hardly had he uttered the words when a sharp report rang out and dave dockery fell back upon the coach and lay motionless, while out of the shadows spurred a horseman dressed in black and wearing a red mask. with his revolver leveled at the stranger he said sharply: "your turn next, sir, for i am out for blood and gold." riding on the box with dave dockery, the young stranger had heard much of the wild ways of the border, and had been told that it would be madness to resist a "hold-up" of a coach, unless the chances were well on the side of those attacked. when, therefore, the sharp report of a revolver had been followed by the toppling over of poor dave, and a masked horseman rode out of the shadows of the cliff, his revolver covering him, the young man did not just know what to do. he had with him a few hundred in money, his watch, chain, and a few articles of value, with some papers of importance. that the masked horseman was alone he could not believe, and yet he had, against all traditions of the border, begun by firing upon dave dockery, and not ordering him to halt first. that he had fired to kill the bullet-wound in the breast, and the motionless form of the driver as he lay back upon the top of the coach, were in evidence. now he stood the chance himself of life and death, and he awaited the ordeal with white, but calm face. the horses had stopped in their tracks, and though no other persons were visible the stranger looked for others to appear. the thought flashed across him that he must lose all he had with him, but his life he could not believe was in danger, yet why the masked road-agent had killed dockery without mercy he could not understand. "do you mean to take my life, man?" "that depends whether it is worth more to kill you than to let you live," was the businesslike reply. but hardly had he spoken when from out of the coach window came a flash and report. the miner within, awakening to a sense of his danger, had taken a hand in the affair. the bullet barely missed the head of the masked horseman, who at once returned the fire, aiming first, however, at the young man on the box. with a groan the latter fell heavily to the ground, his revolver half-drawn from its holster, and the murderer, leaping from his saddle, took refuge among the horses while he called out: "i have killed your two comrades, and you share the same fate unless you surrender." "i cry quits, pard," came in frightened tones from the coach, and the man was evidently now sobered and greatly alarmed. "then come out!" the miner quickly threw open the stage door, put his foot upon the step and then peered cautiously toward his foe. instantly there came a shot, and, without a moan, he pitched forward head foremost and fell in a heap between the wheels. "any more?" called out the road-agent sternly. no answer came, and, revolvers in hand, he stepped to one side and opened fire at the coach. he fired with both hands, and did not cease until he had emptied his weapons and riddled the coach. then he unslung his rifle from his saddle-horn and cautiously approached, ready to fire at the first sign of danger to himself. but he had done his work well, and he had nothing to fear, so advancing to the coach, found that it was empty. quickly he set about searching the vehicle for all of value that it might carry. he found a roll of bills belonging to the miner, and a few things of value in his valise. the young man panned out for him nearly a thousand in money, and some jewelry, and dave dockery was pretty well supplied with funds. but the masked marauder searched rapidly on, and evidently looked for a richer haul yet. the box was found with the money in it, and a bullet fired from his revolver shattered the lock. "ah! here is a haul worth all risks to get," he muttered, and the contents of the chest were put in a sack and tied upon his saddle. his work thus far had taken but a few minutes, and, apparently satisfied with what booty he had secured, he shot one of the wheel-horses, to prevent the team going on with the coach, and, mounting the splendid animal he rode, and which was covered, head and all, with a black calico covering, he dashed away down the pass at a gallop. chapter vi. the dumb messenger. hardly had the masked road-agent ridden away, when a deep groan came from the lips of dave dockery. his eyes opened, and after a supreme effort, which cost him the greatest agony, as moans would force themselves through his shut teeth, he was able to slip down from the box to the ground. he knelt by the side of the man who had been his companion a few minutes before, full of life and vigor, and found him motionless. then he crept on hands and knees to the side of the miner. "dead!" came from between his clenched teeth. after several efforts he arose by aid of a wheel to his feet, and, taking a piece of paper and pencil from his pocket, wrote a few lines upon it with the greatest difficulty. making his way, supported by the coach, step by step to the wheel-horse that stood chained to his dead comrade, he unhitched him from the pole, fastened the slip of paper to the bridle, and gave him a blow. "go! old horse, for i cannot ride you; i am too weak to hold myself on your back. go for help to last chance, and maybe if you hurry you may save my life." the horse seemed to understand what was said to him, and started off at a swift trot down the trail. he was just disappearing from sight when dockery, unable to longer stand up, tottered and fell by the side of the trail, writhing in his agony. and while he lay thus the faithful horse increased his speed to a gallop and went along thus for miles, his trace-chains rattling an accompaniment to his hoof-falls as he followed the trail to last chance. halting at a stream here and there for a drink of cool water, and at a grassy bank for a few mouthfuls of food, the horse held on his way, and a couple of hours after his departure from the coach galloped into the mining-camp. those who saw him with the harness on felt sure that some harm had befallen the coach, and they hastened after the animal, who, avoiding capture, dashed up to the hotel door and halted. lawrence larrimore, nicknamed landlord larry, had seen him coming, and grasped his bridle-rein as he halted. he had caught sight of the white slip of paper tied upon the bridle, and quickly securing it, read what was written thereon in the weak and wavering hand of the wounded driver, but which was recognized as the writing of dave dockery. it was as follows, for landlord larry read it aloud, as the miners quickly gathered about him: "coach held up at bud benton's grave, and i fatally wounded. "one passenger on box killed; miner in coach also. "coach robbed of large sum. "road-agent was alone, wore black domino and red mask, horse also masked, but feel sure i know him. "i have just strength to write this, and beg quick aid, sending it by one of my wheelers. "come quickly if you hope to find me alive. "dave." a roar went up from the crowd of miners at the reading of this note from dave dockery, who even then might be dying, and landlord larry cried: "spread the alarm, and let us go quickly to the spot, and try and save poor dave, yes, and capture that masked road-agent, for he has got money in plenty. "oh! if doctor dick was only here to look after poor dave, he might save him. let me see! the coach was due at bud benton's grave about two o'clock and it is now after three. come, men, mount and follow me!" dave dockery was liked by all, and landlord larry was a very popular man; so, quickly, the miners obeyed the call to follow the one to the rescue of the other. just as the party of mounted men were about to ride away from the hotel, under the leadership of landlord larry, a shout was heard down the valley, and then came the cry from a score of men: "there comes doctor dick!" with an exclamation of pleasure landlord larry put spurs to his horse and dashed forward to meet the doctor, who warmly grasped his hand as the two met and called out: "what is it, landlord larry?" "read this paper from dave dockery, who even now may be dead. we are going to his aid." "and i will go with you." "but your horse is worn out, doc, and you look tired after your long trail." "don't mind me, for i will mount a fresh horse and follow," and doctor dick rode rapidly toward his own cabin. the eyes of the miners followed the doctor as though all depended upon him. they had come to almost revere this handsome, stern, mysterious man who had come to dwell among them, yet seemed so well fitted to adorn a far different life. his life was as a sealed book to them, yet his skill as physician and surgeon was great, his generosity unbounded, and his nerve and daring far above those whom he had been forced to meet in deadly encounter. he had made his home in a snugly built cabin under the shelter of a cliff within easy walk of the hotel, where he took his meals. he had fitted his frontier home with an extravagance and comfort that was surprising, and had in a cabin near several as fine horses as could be found among the mining-camps, with a chinese servant to look after them and his wants. the doctor hastily dismounted, called to the chinaman to throw his saddle upon another horse and look after the pack-animal, entered the cabin for a few moments, and before landlord larry and his party were a couple of miles away was in rapid pursuit. he did not spare his horse, and overtaking the crowd of half a hundred miner-horsemen, he was greeted with a cheer, which he acknowledged by gracefully raising his sombrero. riding to the front of the column he took his place by the side of landlord larry, and set a faster pace than that at which they had been going. "you say that dave dockery was able to write a note, landlord?" "yes, i handed it to you to-day." "i thrust it into my pocket unread," and doctor dick now glanced over the note as he rode along. "i fear he is too far gone, larry, for if he had been able he would have come into the camp. i will ride still faster, for every moment counts with a badly wounded man, and you see i am mounted on my racer." "push on, do, doc, and i'll follow with the men as fast as i can," cried the landlord. with a word to racer, the horse was off like an arrow, and fairly flew up and down hill along the rugged trail to reach the scene of the tragedy and lend aid to the wounded driver. at last the coach came in sight, and the coming miners were yet all of two miles behind. the four coach-horses, still attached to the pole, stood where they had been left by their driver, while the wheel-horse shot by the road-agent lay where he had fallen. near the coach, to one side, and not twenty paces from where bud benton had been killed, lay the form of dave dockery. throwing himself from his saddle doctor dick bent over him and said quickly: "he still lives! dave! dave! speak to me!" the eyes slowly opened, and there was a convulsive movement of the form, a struggle which, becoming violent, caused the doctor to grasp him firmly, and thus hold him. the dying man seemed in an agony of despair at being unable to speak, and after a slight resistance ceased his efforts and sank back exhausted. "here, dave, take this, for it will revive you," and doctor dick poured some medicine between the white lips. as he did so a groan from another quarter startled him, and, glancing in the direction from whence it came, he saw the form of the young passenger, who had been riding on the box, quiver slightly. in an instant he sprang to the side of the other sufferer, and bent over him, placing his hand upon his pulse. "the bullet struck him in the forehead, glancing along the skull and coming out, i see, at the back of the head. it remains to see whether the bone is fractured--ah! here they come," and up dashed landlord larry and those who had kept up with him. "how goes it, doctor?" asked larry. "dave is beyond hope, i fear, while this gentleman is alive, though i do not know yet how seriously wounded. that man in rough clothes there is dead, as you can see at a glance; but come, we will get the wounded men into the stage at once, and i will drive on to the camps." "and the road-agents?" "by all means send a party to hunt them down," was the stern rejoinder. chapter vii. death and madness. all knew that doctor dick was a skilful driver, and that he would take the coach into last chance sooner than any one else could, so they hastened to get the team ready. the harness on the horse, which had been the dumb messenger to make known the tragedy, had been brought back, and two of the miners' horses were quickly put in as wheelers, while the wounded driver and passenger were tenderly lifted into the coach. in got a couple of miners to support them in their arms, while the body of the man killed by the road-agents was put upon the top of the coach. landlord larry had himself led the party in search of the trail of the road-agents, while, mounting the box, and leaving his horse to follow on behind, doctor dick sent the team along at a slapping pace for last chance claim. as they went along they met other miners coming out to the scene, but these were turned back, as there was no need of their going, and landlord larry had with him all that was needed. it was just nightfall when the coach rolled by the door of the hotel, while, to the surprise of all, doctor dick did not draw rein there. instead he went on to his own cabin and came to a halt, while he said to the miners who accompanied him: "if the lives of these two men are to be saved, it will only be by skill and devoted nursing, and i want them near me. bring over two cots from the hotel, and we will soon make them as comfortable as possible." the two cots were soon brought, the wounded men tenderly lifted out, and the coach driven to the stables by a miner, while doctor dick set to work to see just what he could do for his patients. all knew that driver dave dockery was a great favorite of the gambler-doctor and the remark was made: "he'll save dave if it can be done, and he's the man to do it." left alone with his patients, save his chinese assistant, doctor dick threw off his coat and set to work in earnest to see what he could do for them, and how seriously they were wounded. he first went to dave dockery. the driver lay as quiet as though asleep. placing his hand upon his heart, and then his ear close to his breast, doctor dick said calmly. "it is the sleep of death." with only a moment of thought, he straightened out the limbs, closed the eyes, folded the once strong, bronzed hands over the broad breast, and, throwing a blanket over the form, said to his chinese servant, speaking in the chinese tongue, and speaking it well: "loo foo, my friend is dead." the chinaman replied in his idea of english: "allee lightee, dockee, him wellee happy now allee samee 'melican man angel." loo foo had been converted, it was said, when he carried on the business of washee-washee in a mining-camp, for, as he had expressed it: "more lovee 'melican man joss, gettee more washee." going from the body of dave dockery, doctor dick bent over the form of the wounded stranger. he found him lying in a state of coma, breathing heavily and apparently very badly wounded. examining the wound doctor dick saw that the bullet had glanced on the forehead, run along under the scalp to the back of the skull and there cut its way out. dressing the wound carefully, and using restoratives, the doctor soon had the satisfaction of discovering that his patient was rallying; and within an hour's time his eyes opened, and he looked about him in a bewildered way. passing his hand slowly over his face, he seemed trying to get his scattered thoughts, for he muttered something to himself and then suddenly burst into a violent fit of laughter. "great god! he will live, but as a madman," cried doctor dick, moved by the sight of the strong man's brain having been crazed by the wound he had received. having made him as comfortable as possible he left loo foo on watch and went over to the saloon to report the result, and found it more crowded than usual. many had assembled there who did not generally frequent the place, preferring the quiet of their own cabins in the evening after a hard day's work. these were attracted by the happenings of the day, and the tragedy was being discussed in all its details, with the possibilities of the recovery of the driver and the young passenger, and the capture of the bold outlaws. the fact that dave dockery had hinted in his note to landlord larry that he could possibly tell who the masked road-agent was, was a cause of considerable excitement to all, for it would doubtless fall on one in last chance to be the accused. a hush fell upon the crowd as doctor dick entered, and the few who were gambling, for there were only a few that night, left their cards on the table to hear what would be said. "pards," said the doctor, in his courtly way, "i am just from my cabin, where i have left one of the wounded men dead, the other a madman." a breathless silence followed these words, and then a voice broke it with: "doc, who is the dead man?" "dave dockery." a low murmur of regret and sorrow passed over the crowd, and the doctor added: "he died soon after reaching the cabin." "and t'other, doc?" "the bullet struck him in the head, slightly fracturing the bone, i fear, indenting it and causing a loss of reason, which i fear may never return to him." "poor fellow! better be dead, like poor dave," said one, and this view was the thought of all. "pards, prepare for dave's funeral to-morrow, and out of respect for him, let us close the saloon to-night, for i know landlord larry would wish it so." a general murmur of assent followed, and the doctor continued: "i wish two men as couriers at once, one to carry a note to landlord larry, for he can go to the scene of the hold-up, and start on the trail from there as soon as it is light enough to see." "i'll go, doc," said a cheery voice, and a young man came forward. "thank you, wall, go with me to my cabin and i'll give you the note. now, i wish a man to go as courier to fort faraway, and remember it is a dangerous and long ride." "i hain't afeered of the danger, or the ride, doc, so i'm yer man," said a burly fellow coming forward, and his words were greeted with a cheer. doctor dick glanced at him and then said very calmly: "thank you, brassy, but i do not care to accept your services." "and just why?" "in the first place, i desire to send a letter to buffalo bill, and you have expressed openly your hatred for him, and to some day even up on him for not allowing you to have your way in certain matters." "i doesn't allow my hates to interfere with duty." "i do not care to accept your services, brassy." "now, i asks a reason why?" "i have given you one." "i wants another." "is this a demand?" "it be." "you shall have it." "then don't beat round the bush, but have the narve to come out with it like a man." all looked at brassy with amazement. he had been drinking and was reckless. the doctor smiled, but answered complacently: "i always answer a demand, brassy, so will tell you frankly, that i would not trust you with any message whatever." the words fell pat from the lips of the doctor, and there was no misunderstanding them, and brassy did not, for with a yell he shouted: "yer shall eat them insultin' words, doctor dick!" and quick as action could be, he had drawn his revolver and fired. the crowd had fallen back from about each man at brassy's cry, and yet one man caught the bullet intended for the doctor in his shoulder. it was not a second after the shot of brassy's before the doctor's weapon rang out. he had not expected brassy to open fire so quickly, so was not prepared for defense; but he was just so little behind him in time, that before the man could pull trigger a second time, he fired, and his bullet went straight where aimed, between the eyes of the one he intended to kill, when he dropped his hand upon his revolver. brassy's pistol fired a second shot as he fell, but it was from the death clutch upon the trigger, and the bullet went over the heads of the crowd, while instantly was heard the doctor's quiet tones: "come, men, who volunteers as courier to faraway?" a young man stepped promptly forward and answered: "i was a soldier at faraway, sir, and know the trail. i will go." "you are the very man, harding; come with wall to my cabin. good night, gentlemen, and remember, i pay the expenses of brassy's funeral, so do not be mean in his burial outfit." with this doctor dick raised his sombrero and left the saloon, his admirers being still more impressed with his nerve and bearing after what had occurred. the body of brassy was removed to his cabin by those who were his friends, and all agreed that he had brought his sudden fate upon himself, as the first reason given, of his hatred to buffalo bill, was excuse enough for refusing him as a courier. the saloon was closed, and the other gambling and drinking-places followed the example set and also closed their doors for the night, so that quiet soon rested in the mining-camp of last chance. in the meanwhile doctor dick, accompanied by wall and harding, had gone to his quarters, where loo foo was found making a cup of tea, alone with the dead and wounded, and seemingly unmindful of the fact. entering the cabin the doctor drew the blanket back from the form of dave dockery and revealed to the two couriers the honest, brave face of the driver. "poor dave! he is on his last trail now," he said softly, and seating himself at his table he hastily wrote two letters. one read: "dear larry: dave died soon after reaching my cabin. if you do not find trace of the outlaws by sunset, it would be well to return sooner, if you can get no clue whatever. "i send harding to fort faraway, with a note to buffalo bill, as i promised to do, if there was another hold-up on the overland trail. "i had to kill brassy to-night, but ball will explain the circumstances. "get back to poor dave's funeral at sunset to-morrow, if possible. "i closed saloon to-night out of respect to dave. "the young passenger will be a madman if he recovers. yours, doctor dick." the note to buffalo bill told of the hold-up on the stage-trail, the death of one passenger, wounding of another, and killing of dave dockery, and closed with: "landlord larry is on the trail of the outlaws, and all will be done to hunt them down that it is possible to do. "i will drive the coach back on the run, and until another driver can be found. "if you cannot come now, state what you think best to be done and it will be attended to. "yours, doctor dick." the couriers left as soon as the letters were finished, and having seen them depart doctor dick went over to the hotel to get his supper, which loo foo had ordered for him, after which he returned, looked at his patient, gave him a dose of medicine, and, throwing himself upon his bed, was soon fast asleep, wholly oblivious it seemed of the dead man and the sufferer within a few feet of him. chapter viii. a strange burial. the courier on the trail of landlord larry found him and his half-hundred miners trailing the mountains and valleys over in search of some trace of the coming of the road-agents to the scene of the tragedy, and their going therefrom. but the search of the evening before, and up to the arrival of wall at noon, when they had gone into camp, had been wholly in vain. not a hoof-track could be found of the road-agents' horses, nor a place where they had lain in wait until the stage came along. landlord larry was not one to waste energy upon impossibilities, and after reading doctor dick's letter he decided to return with his men to last chance. they set out soon after the midday rest and arrived in last chance just as all was in readiness for the burial of dave dockery and brassy, for a double funeral was to be had. the landlord dismissed his men and went at once to the quarters of doctor dick, who greeted him warmly and asked: "any success?" "not a bit." "too bad." "we could not find the photograph of a trail and to search longer was a waste of time, so as the men wished to go to dave's funeral, i just came in." "it was about all you could do under the circumstances, larry." "i see that they have got the corpse you furnished rigged out for burial too." "brassy?" "yes." "why not, for he has a number of friends?" "don't fear no trouble, do yer?" "no, i think not, for brassy prescribed for himself and i administered the medicine." "served him right for playing with edged tools." "i will not say that, poor fellow, for life was dear to him; but he should have been more careful." "we will go together to the burial." "by all means, and i'll give my friends a hint to be ready if brassy's pards go to showing an ugly mood, while you will go prepared, doc?" "i always am," was the laconic response. "now, how's yer sick man?" "he will recover bodily, but never mentally i fear." "i'm sorry," and landlord larry went to prepare for the burial. in half an hour all was ready to start, and doctor dick and landlord larry were given the places of honor at the procession, or rather just following what was called "the band," and which consisted of a dozen men who _sang_, the leader alone playing on a cornet. following the doctor and landlord larry, came the eight men bearing the body of dave dockery on a litter on their shoulders. the body was encased in a board coffin, and behind followed eight men carrying the body of brassy. following were the miners, marching eight abreast, and in solid column, nearly a thousand men being in line, and among them were led the horses which dave dockery was wont to drive, his belt of arms, hat, and whip being carried on top of his coffin. up the cañon to the cemetery beneath the cliffs filed the column at funeral pace, keeping time to the splendid voices, that changed from air to air as they marched along, and which echoed and reechoed among the hills. the burying-ground was reached, the bodies placed by the side of the graves dug for them, and landlord larry consigned them to their last resting-place by repeating the words of the burial service over them, no partiality being shown. but when the coffin, with the weapons, hat, and whip of dave dockery was lowered into the grave, hundreds of bold, brawny men stepped forward and threw in upon it benches of wild flowers they had gathered, and when filled up, the little mound was covered from view by these sweet offerings of manly regard for the dead driver, while in strange contrast was the barren grave of brassy, for his immediate friends had not thought of gathering flowers, there being no sentiment in his death. doctor dick looked calmly on, and perhaps it was his stern, fearless mien that stayed the trouble that several of brassy's pards seemed to have decided upon there in the sacred resting-place of the dead, perhaps the belief that they would be quickly sent to join their comrade, for they created no disturbance, only with a significant glance at the gold-king gambler turned and walked away with the bearing of men who would bide their time to avenge. chapter ix. the courier. the man who had volunteered to take the long and dangerous ride to fort faraway, to carry a letter to buffalo bill, had ridden along steadily after leaving last chance, until a couple of hours before day. then he halted, staked his horse out, and, wrapping himself in his blanket, went to sleep. for several hours he slept serenely, then awaking he cooked his breakfast and was soon again in the saddle. he seemed to understand frontier craft perfectly, and to appreciate just what his horse could stand, so did not press him too hard. camping at nightfall, he was again on the trail at daybreak, and held steadily on during the day. another night-camp and he rode into fort faraway the next morning before the hour of noon. he was directed at once to the quarters of buffalo bill, and though, having been a soldier there, he recognized many old friends, he saw that, dressed as he then was, and with his beard grown, the recognition was not mutual. but the moment he entered the presence of buffalo bill he was recognized and warmly greeted, for the scout had always liked the young soldier, who had been given his discharge on account of a severe wound received in an indian fight, which it was thought would render him lame for life. "well, harding, i am glad to see you, and you deserve credit for the plucky ride you have made. how is the old wound getting on now?" "all right, bill, for i am not at all lame, i am glad to say." "and you are getting rich, i suppose?" "well, no, but i have laid up some money in mining, only i cannot stand upon my wounded leg long at a time, and so i am going to ask you to take me on as a scout under your command, if you can do so." "harding, you are just the man i want, and you are in that very place where i need you, so you can return to your mine, and pretend to work as before, for there is where i wish you to serve me, since i received this letter from doctor dick." "thank you, pard cody, for your kindness, and will be glad to do as you wish; but may i ask a favor?" "certainly." "it is that no one knows that i am in your service, not even landlord larry or doctor dick, for i can work better, i am sure." "it might be a good idea to have it so, and it shall be as you wish, for you can do better work as a spy, and i have full confidence in you, harding. but we will talk over just what it is best to do when i have reported to major randall the holding up of the coach and killing of dave dockery and the others." buffalo bill then left the courier and went to headquarters, where he held a long conversation with the commandant of the post. returning to his own quarters he said to harding, who was awaiting him: "well, pard, the major has heard the whole story, and he has left it to me to go in my own way about running down these road-agents, for, though only one was seen, there were evidently more at the hold-up." "i do not doubt that, for one man would be a bold one to alone make an open attempt to hold up a coach with dave dockery on the box, and knowing that he had passengers with him." "well, harding, you are to return to last chance, and give letters i will write to landlord larry, and i wish you to go to work in my service, and secret service it must be, for what you do must be underhand, no one knowing that you are doing else than carrying on your mining as before. i will give you a paper which will protect you, for major randall will endorse it officially, and you can use it in case of trouble, or necessity; not otherwise." "i thank you, friend bill, and i'll be discreet, i promise you; but now there is another thing i wish to tell you, and to ask what you think of it." "well, what is it, harding?" "do you believe that sergeant wallace weston is dead?" was the query, in a low, earnest tone. buffalo bill started at the unexpected question asked him, and gazing intently at harding, asked: "why do you ask such a question, harding?" "i will tell you when you answer my question, mr. cody." "whether i believe sergeant wallace weston dead?" "yes, sir." "i do." "you have good reason for believing it, then?" "i have." "please tell me what it is." "as you have some motive above curiosity in asking, i will do so, harding," and buffalo bill told the whole story of sergeant weston's escape from execution, and the finding of a body in his uniform upon the desert, and burying it. but he added: "i confess, harding, after a talk with doctor dick upon the subject, i was led to doubt to a certain degree the death of the sergeant, and even followed a trail which i supposed was his." "with what result, sir?" "that we found the trail led to a mine which had caved in and crushed the cabin home of those who dwelt there!" "when was this, sir?" "only a short time ago." "do you mind giving me the date?" buffalo bill took a note-book from his pocket and gave the exact date. "now, harding, you have some knowledge upon this subject; a secret to tell." "yes, sir." "out with it." "you will keep it in confidence, between us two?" "certainly." "you know that the sergeant was my friend, that he had saved my life twice in battle, and i loved him as i did a brother?" "i remember." "no man knew him better than i did in the fort, for we were boon comrades for over a year, and i knew his features perfectly, as well as other marks of identification." "yes." "the sergeant had one mark that he was sensitive about, and kept hidden from all, though i saw it several times." "what was it?" "he had a peculiar way of dressing his hair, with a curl hanging over his forehead." "i remember it." "beneath that curl, sir, was a birthmark." "ah!" "it was a red cross an inch in length, and perfect in shape." "indeed?" "yes, and i saw that same mark on a man's forehead a few days before the date you say that sergeant weston, if it was he, was buried in the caved-in mine." "ah! and where did you see it?" "i had gone to wingate by coach, sir, to collect some money due me from several soldiers there, and in the sutler's store i saw a man whose face i was sure i had seen before. "he wore his hair and beard long, and seemed to stoop badly, or was round-shouldered, but the form otherwise was the same, so were the eyes and shape of the head, and he had a round gold filling the size of a pin's head in one of the front teeth. "reading a letter that seemed to impress him, he took off his hat and pushed his hair back, and i saw the red cross on his forehead. i went up to see him as though to attract his attention, but he looked at me as though he had never seen me before, yet his face flushed and paled as he looked. "now, mr. cody, that man was sergeant weston, and i'll swear to it, but i would not tell any other man than you, for if he escaped death no one is more glad of it than i, unless----" "unless what, harding?" "unless, a poor man, and a hunted one, he turned road-agent and was the man who held up the coach, killing dave dockery." "no, harding, i can hardly believe that of him, and then, too, the coach was just held up, and this man, with his pard, perished in the cave-in of their mine." "you are sure?" "i cannot see reason to doubt it, but now that you tell me what you do, the man who saved me from the gang of headlight joe, and then went on his way, recalled a face i could not place, and now i am sure that it was sergeant weston; but he too had round shoulders, while the sergeant did not have, and yet he was then on his way to wingate, and it was upon his return that i followed his trail." "well, sir, if it was in my power to capture sergeant weston, never would i lay hand upon him, and i believe you feel the same way, unless it was your orders to do so. still, somehow, the thought came to me that, a fugitive, and friendless, he might have turned outlaw." "i do not think so, and i am sure now that, if it was weston who came to my aid, and whom you saw, he perished in the mine; but now let us go over what i wish you to do, and my plan to run down these road-agents, who i am sure are from last chance claim and nowhere else," said buffalo bill. chapter x. doctor dick's drive. a pall seemed to have fallen over last chance, in the death of dave dockery, and its life began to flag in gloom. seeing this, and fearing that the hold-up of the coach might injure the mines, landlord larry decided to get up a scheme to attract outsiders to the mines, and so the rumor went out of a large find of gold in one of the cañons near the town. a couple of miners only were put there to work it, and the claim was known as the doctor dick mine, as the gold king at once bought from the landlord a half-interest in it. this news stirred the miners to increased exertions in their own mines, and also caused prospectors to go out on the search for new "finds." the wounded passenger continued to steadily improve bodily, under the skill and kind care of doctor dick, but his mind was a wreck, and no one believed that he would ever regain his reason. doctor dick hinted at an operation some day that might relieve the pressure upon the brain, yet spoke of it also as an experiment and a dangerous one, only to be tried as a last resort. the man was as docile as a child, gave no trouble, and simply sat about whittling sticks into the shape of a revolver. at last the week passed by, when the stage was to start again upon its run eastward. a number of miners had volunteered as an escort, but doctor dick said he would drive on the run out and come back as a passenger; and he did not expect trouble, so would not accept an armed escort. the night before the stage was to start, harding, the courier to fort faraway, returned. he brought with him a letter from buffalo bill to doctor dick, and another for landlord larry, stating that the troops at the fort were pressed just then with extra duty, as the indians were in an angry mood, and for them to do what they could for the protection of the coaches until major randall could investigate and patrol the trail. harding had little to say of his visit to the fort, more than to hint that the soldiers were too much occupied just then with their own affairs to care much for the killing of a stage-driver and couple of passengers. as no government funds had been taken by the outlaws, the miners would have to look to their own protection, for a while at least. the courier also stated that there were stories at the fort of secret finds of gold in and about last chance, and he would give up his intention, expressed some time before, of selling out his mining interests, and instead, stick to hard work, in the hope of striking it rich in the end. the next morning the coach was to start, and as it was to go out at an early hour many of the miners decided to remain up all night gambling in order to see it leave; for it would be the sabbath day, when they could rest. doctor dick had been too busy of late with his patient and other matters to devote much time to gambling, and so he also decided to make a night of it at the gambling-tables. when the dawn came many regretted that he had done so, for never had he played more recklessly, and never before had he been such a large winner, for luck seemed to go his way from the start. play what game he might he was a winner, and going from table to table he "broke the combination," as one of the miners expressed it. the dawn was at hand when he went to his cabin for a bath, and in half an hour he came back to the hotel for breakfast, looking little like a man who had passed the night over a gambling-table. he was dressed in his best, was well armed, and coming out from a hearty breakfast lighted a cigar, and mounted to the stage-box at a single bound, an act that gained for him a cheer upon his agility. "all ready, landlord larry," he called out as he gathered up the reins, and the answer was: "no passengers, mails aboard, go!" doctor dick gathered up the reins in a way that showed him a master of the art of driving. he looked very dashing and handsome, as he sat on the box, his long hair falling upon his shoulders and his face showing no dread of what he might have to encounter upon his run. with a wave of the hand at the word, "go," he gave his whip-lash a quick whirl, and made the crack resound like a pistol-shot. the six horses bounded forward, and a wild yell of admiration of the volunteer driver's pluck went up from the crowd. as the coach rolled down the valley the miners came out from their cabins and gave him a cheer, and it was a constant yell along the line until he had left the last camp behind him. the six fine horses had been sent along at a rapid pace until the camps were left behind, the doctor showing his great skill as a driver in dashing over places, and around corners where others had found it safer to go slow; but when the last cabin disappeared the team was brought down to a jog, for the way was long before them. the scene of the last tragedy was passed at a walk, the doctor glancing calmly at the spot where dave dockery had lost his life, along with his passengers. the first relay was made, and the stock-tender there, who had heard the news of the hold-up from landlord larry's men when searching for the road-agents, expressed pleasure at seeing the coach come in safe and with doctor dick upon the box. "anything suspicious about, pard?" asked the doctor. "no, sir, hain't seen a man around since poor dave went by on the last run, which was his last run on earth." "yes, poor fellow, he is gone." "you doesn't mean ter say that yer is going ter drive ther run, doc?" "only on this trip, pard, for i have other work to do; but there was no one at last chance to take the coach out, so i volunteered." "and you has the nerve ter run through, while yer handles ther ribbons as though yer was born on a stage-box. but yer'll find drivers scarce at t'other end, doctor dick, or i'm greatly mistook." "i hope not;" and the fresh team being ready, the doctor pushed on once more. the second relay-station was reached at noon, and here doctor dick had his dinner. he had come over the worst part of the road, as far as danger from attack was concerned, but had fifty miles yet before him, where a halt was always made for the night, as there was a cañon there to go through which could only be driven in daylight, and the relay of horses taken in the morning had to pull on into the station at the end of the ran for the driver on the last chance end of the line. but the doctor reached what was known as cañon-end station soon after dark, and after supper turned in in one of the cots in the cabin provided for passengers, and was soon fast asleep. he was up at an early hour, had breakfast, lighted his cigar, and with a spanking fine team took the perilous run through the cañon at a trot, driving the twenty miles that ended his run in a little over three hours. the stage rolling in at a brisk pace to the station at w----, was greeted with cheers, for the news had come from fort faraway the day before of dave dockery's death, the killing of one passenger, wounding of another, and the robbery of the coach. the brave man who had dared drive through was greeted with cheers, but he had hardly dismounted from the box when he was informed that he would have to drive back, as there was no driver there who would take the risk at any price. other drivers had been sent for, men who were afraid of nothing, but no one had yet been found who would drive the run to last chance, which had been set down in the frontier vocabulary as the sure-death trail. chapter xi. running the gantlet. doctor dick agreed to drive the coach back on condition that the driver who came to take charge should come on to last chance on horseback and be ready to come back with it. he had shown that he did not fear the drive, but his business and professional duties demanded that he should be at last chance, and there he must remain. he was secretly told by the agent that there was a valuable mail to go through in registered letters, and asked if he dared risk carrying them. "by all means, sir, for i am driving to do my full duty," was the answer. so the mail was made up, and at the last moment two passengers applied for seats. they were strangers in w----, but said they were going to last chance to work in the mines, and they were accordingly given seats upon the box, as they preferred to ride outside. then the coach started on its return to last chance with doctor dick still holding the reins. having driven over the run once, and knowing what his relay teams could do, he started out to make the regular time on the run. but there was alarm felt at last chance when half an hour had passed over schedule-time and the coach did not put in an appearance, and nothing was seen of it on the three miles of trail visible down the valley. when an hour had passed the anxiety became great, for all conjectured that doctor dick had met the fate of bud benton and dave dockery. some said that the delay was because the doctor was new on the road, and this appeared to be a reasonable explanation, but landlord larry grew more and more anxious, and at last decided to go out with a party on a search for the delayed coach. but, just as the men were told to get their horses, a shout arose down the valley that the coach was approaching, and soon after a cloud of dust was visible drifting along the stage-trail. a shout arose, for it showed that at least some one was there, whatever had happened, to drive the coach in. then those who had said the delay was caused by the doctor being new to the trail began to crow, but only for a while, as landlord larry, who was gazing through a field-glass at the approaching stage, called out: "there are only four horses--two are missing, for some reason." it was now all conjecture as to the cause of delay. again landlord larry had something to say, and it was to the effect that the coach was not dashing along with its accustomed speed in coming in at the end of the trail, that doctor dick was on the box, and alone, while he seemed to drive in a very careful manner, very different from his going away on his drive out. nearer and nearer came the coach up the valley, every eye upon it, and all wondering, guessing, and asserting their views of what had happened. "the doctor is there, that is certain," said one. "two horses have been killed," another remarked. "he may have lost them in the bad roads," was an answer. "perhaps they were shot down by road-agents." "he has no passengers." "see how he drives." "he comes on as slow as a snail." "see, he is driving with one hand." "what does that mean?" "his left hand is hanging by his side." "he has surely been wounded." and so the comments ran around, as all stood watching the coming coach, which half an hour after coming in sight rolled up to the hotel, came to a halt and was greeted with a wild chorus of cheers from the assembled miners. the crowd that gazed at doctor dick saw that his handsome face was very pale, his eyes had a haggard look, and his teeth were firmly set. they knew that he had passed through some dread ordeal, and a silence fell upon all, awaiting for him to speak. they saw that his left arm was carried in a sling, his handkerchief knotted around his neck, and that a red stain was upon his sleeve. furthermore, they saw that the two wheel-horses were missing, the center pair having been put back in their place. upon opening the stage door to see if there were any passengers, landlord larry started back as the dead form of a man pitched out on his head. the door being open it was seen that a second form was in the coach, all in a heap in one corner. there were red stains upon the steps, and upon the leather cushions, and everything indicated that the stage had run a death-gantlet. but, excepting for his pale, stern face, the doctor was as serene as a may morn, though his voice showed weakness when he spoke. "i'll ask your aid, landlord, for i am weakened from loss of blood. bind my arm up to stop the flow and i'll see how serious the wound is." he said no more, but was at once aided from the box and over to his cabin, landlord larry leaving his clerk to look after the mails and the dead passengers. arriving at the cabin doctor dick had his coat-sleeve slit open and the bandage he had tied about his arm removed. his silk shirt-sleeve was also cut, and then the wound was revealed in the fleshy part of the arm. taking a probe from his case doctor dick, after swallowing a glass of brandy, coolly probed the wound, found the ball, and, aided by loo foo, the chinee, under his direction, soon extracted the bullet. then the wound was skilfully dressed, the arm rested in a sling, and doctor dick lolling back in his easy chair asked with the greatest coolness: "well, landlord larry, how goes all at last chance?" the landlord was amazed at the calmness of the man, and said quickly: "oh, last chance is o. k.; but it is your run that we are dying to hear about, doc." "well, it was a close call for me, larry, i admit, for i found foes where i expected friends." "you were held up?" "yes." "where?" "at what you have very appropriately named the dead line, larry." "the place where bud and dave were killed?" "yes." "it was the masked road-agents?" "not this time." "ah! who then?" "i did not form their acquaintance by name, but perhaps a search of the bodies may reveal." "you killed them?" "two." "where are the bodies?" "i brought them along in the coach." "i thought they were passengers who had been killed?" "they were." "how do you mean?" "they left w---booked as passengers, but reached last chance as dead-head road-agents." "now i begin to understand. it was your two passengers who attacked you?" "just so." "it is a wonder that they did not kill you." "they would easily have done so, had i not suspected them: but i grew suspicious, and without appearing to do so, watched their every look and move. when we drew near the dead line, they said they would lie down on top of the coach and rest, so they spread their blankets and did so. "i thought this strange, as just before i had told them we were approaching the scene of the hold-ups. but i kept my eye upon them, and, as we neared the cliff, the sun shone brightly down and i distinctly saw the shadows of the two men as they arose and drew their revolvers. "i drew mine as quick as a flash, turned, and caught this shot in the arm, while a second bullet whizzed by my head." chapter xii. a man's nerve. the doctor paused in his story, as though recalling the thrilling scene which had so nearly cost him his life, and a sad look came into his eyes as though he felt that his mission seemed ever to kill. so lost was he in thought, that landlord larry had to recall him to his story by saying: "it was a very close call for you, doc." "a close call indeed, and, but for the shadows on the cliff, revealing the hostility of my two passengers, my death would have followed. but my discovery of their intention, and quickness in facing them, disconcerted them both, destroying their aim, close as they were to me." "they did not fire again?" "oh, yes; several shots, two of which killed my wheelers; but i got in my work by firing two shots, also." "killing them?" "yes, for you will find my bullet-brands in their foreheads. the horses had started forward at the shots, and as the wheelers fell, the coach gave a lurch which sent the two men from the top to the ground just as i fired on them. "i quieted my team, and first bound my arm up as tightly as i could to stop the flow of blood, and then, dismounting, picked up the two dead men, threw them into the coach, and drove on. "of course my wounded arm gave me more and more trouble, and i could drive only very slowly with one hand, and hence my delay in arrival. but i got in without being robbed, which i am very glad of, for there is a large registered mail on this run. "now i will have loo foo fetch me some supper and retire, for i am about played out, and you can search the two men and let me know the result in the morning. but one minute--how is my patient?" "bodily all right, but his mind, as you said would be the case, is gone." "poor fellow! good night, larry, and hurry loo foo over with my supper, please." landlord larry bade doctor dick good night and departed, more than ever impressed with the idea that the gold king gambler was a very remarkable man. going to his hotel landlord larry found nearly every denizen of last chance awaiting him, and a suppressed excitement was apparent in all. the two bodies had been taken into the hotel office, to await the coming of the landlord, and there they lay covered with a blanket. the moment landlord larry was seen, coming from the cabin of doctor dick, cries arose of: "speech! speech! "tell the news, landlord!" and so on. larry mounted to the piazza of the hotel and in a few words told the story of doctor dick's running the gantlet and the nerve he had shown in the ordeal he had passed through. "oh, he's got ther narve of old nick, as we all knows," cried a miner, and this intended compliment was acquiesced in by one and all. having learned the news the miners adjourned to the saloons and the toasts for the next few hours were to: "doctor dick, a man o' narve from wayback." until a late hour the miners drank and gambled, and then, toward dawn, quiet reigned in the camps, broken only now and then by a yell from some man who was too full of liquor to go to sleep. the next morning, greatly to the delight of all, doctor dick appeared at breakfast and received an ovation. loo foo had dressed his wounded arm, and though sore, it was all right, doctor dick said, yet he was pale from loss of blood. after breakfast he mounted his horse and took the rounds to see his patients, and everywhere he was greeted with a welcome that could not but flatter him. but the two weeks before date for the return of the coach--for the runs were semimonthly--passed away and no driver appeared from w---to take the stage out. it began to look very much as though doctor dick would have to again take the reins. the search of the dead bodies of the two road-agents had revealed nothing as to their identity, for, excepting their weapons, a little money, some odds and ends in their pockets, they had nothing of value about them, and they were buried at the expense of doctor dick, who would have it so, as he very laconically remarked: "as i killed them, i should pay their expenses when they are unable to do so." at last the day for the starting of the coach came round, and doctor dick, as no one else volunteered, expressed his willingness to take the reins, though he remarked: "this will be the last run i shall make, so you must get a man here, landlord larry, to go, if i do not bring one back with me from w----." and once more doctor dick rolled away with a cheer from his admirers. chapter xiii. a volunteer. doctor dick had an uneventful run to w----, and arrived without accident or delay on time at the end of his journey. he was well received, but the stage-agent told him that not a volunteer had put in an appearance for the place of driver. double the price had been offered, but there were no takers, and the agent added: "you must find some daredevil at last chance who is willing to risk his life upon the box, while rest assured, doctor dick, i have reported your noble service for the company in its need and it will be appreciated." "i do not care for pay, or thanks, only i wish to be relieved of a duty i do not like, especially as it interferes with my own work," was the answer. just before the time came for the starting of the coach a horseman rode up and dismounted at the stage office. he was an odd-looking individual, tall, but with a hump on his back, awkward in gait, and dressed in buckskin leggings and hunting-shirt. his hair was long, very long, bushy, and would have been white but for its soiled appearance, and he had it cropped, or banged in front like an indian, or fashionable young miss, to keep it out of his eyes. his face was clean-shaven, but the hue of leather, and he wore a pair of iron-rimmed spectacles. his slouch-hat was worn in reality, for the rim fell down upon his shoulders, save in front where the flap was turned up and fastened with an army-button. he was armed with a pair of old, but serviceable revolvers, an ugly-looking bowie-knife with a deer-horn handle, and a combined rifle and shotgun, double-barreled. his horse was as queer as his master in appearance, being a large, raw-boned animal, with patches of hair upon him, a long tangled mane and tail, and he was unshod, though his hoofs looked as tough as iron. the saddle was also a back number, and the stake-rope served for a bridle as well. a lariat hung at the saddle-horn, also a hatchet, and in a large rubber blanket was rolled his bedding, while a bag contained a coffee-pot, frying-pan, tin cup, plate, and some provisions. he looked the crowd over as he drew rein, and asked quietly: "who's boss o' this layout?" "i am," and the stage-agent stepped forward. "i hears thet yer wants a man ter drive yer old hearse on ther trail ter last chance and back." "i do." "i'm yer huckleberry." "you?" "yas, me." "are you a driver?" "ef i wasn't i'd not be sich a durned fool as ter trust myself on a two-story hearse, pard." "who sent you here?" "nobody, for i hain't one ter be sent." "where did you come from?" "ther up-country, whar i has been trappin', huntin', prospectin', and killin' a injin or two--see!" "and now you wish to turn stage-driver?" "if it pays what they told me at fort faraway i does." "the pay is good; but have you no references?" "yas." "where are they?" "here." the old man put his hands upon his revolvers and drew them with a lightninglike motion that surprised the lookers-on. "they are pretty good references on a pinch, and you may have cause to use them if you drive this trail." "i has used them before, and i guess i kin do it ag'in," was the quiet response. "when could you begin?" "now." "what is your name?" "old huckleberry, but the boys calls me old huck for short; but durn ther name, call me what yer wants ter, and i'll be thar." "well, pard huckleberry, i rather like your style, and have a mind to give you a trial." "ef yer kin do better, don't do it; but if yer can't, count on me, for as i said afore, i'm yer huckleberry, and ready for the game." doctor dick had been closely looking at the old volunteer and said something in a whisper to the stage-agent, who at once said: "i'll take you, and the time for starting is almost up." "i'm ready, only take care of my horse at my expense," and the volunteer dismounted ready for work. when old huckleberry mounted the stage-box, doctor dick yielded to him the reins, which he seized in a somewhat awkward manner, yet with the air of one who knew just what to do; took the whip, gave it a resounding crack, and started off at a brisk pace. there were four passengers inside, all miners going to last chance, lured there by the rumor of richer mines having been found, for the stories were circulating more and more that there were rich finds being discovered there every day. "that man knows how to handle the reins as well as the best of them, old though he may be, and a trifle awkward," said the stage-agent, as he saw the volunteer driver sending his team along, at a slapping pace, in spite of the fact that the trail was none of the best along there. the coach soon disappeared from the sight of those at w----, made the night halt on time, and as soon as he had had his supper the new driver wrapped himself in his blankets and threw himself down outdoors, declining the invitation of the stock-tender to sleep in the cabin. he was on his box on time the next morning, and with doctor dick by his side, went off on his run. he was a man disposed to silence, for he did not speak often, unless doctor dick addressed him. but he would ask now and then about the trails, and showed some interest in the gambler-king's stories of the different road-agents' attacks upon the way to last chance. he greeted the stock-tenders at the relay-stations pleasantly, said he hoped to be with them for some time, and kept the team at the pace set for schedule-time. passing the scenes of the several tragedies, he drew rein for a few minutes and attentively regarded the surroundings, but drove on again without a word of comment. doctor dick had become more and more interested in the strange driver, had told him all he could about the trail, the time to make going and coming, and was anxious to have him make no mistakes, he said. he tried to draw him out time and again, but in vain. all he could learn from him was that he had lived for many years upon the frontier and preferred to do so for reasons best known to himself. he said he was trapper, indian-fighter, hunter, and prospector, that was all, and he tried to do his duty in every work he undertook. more he would not say of himself, and the doctor gave up trying to "pump" him. when the coach came in sight of last chance, old huckleberry showed no satisfaction at having made the run in safety, or excitement at driving in for the first time. he quickened the pace of his team, handled his reins with a skill that won the admiration, as he had all along, of doctor dick, and at last came to a halt before the hotel with a whoop and the words: "here we be, boss!" doctor dick introduced old huckleberry from the box, as soon as the cheer that greeted their arrival had died away. "pards, i is glad ter know yer, and i greets yer," and with this old huckleberry dismounted from the box and asked at once for the "feed-room." he ate his supper with a relish, smoked his pipe, and, declining a bed in the hotel, saying it would smother him to sleep in between walls, took an ax and hatchet, with a few nails, and, going up on the hillside where there was a thicket, soon built for himself a wickiup that would keep him sheltered even in a storm. he carried his few traps there, and then stuck up a notice which read: "old huckleberry's claim." having completed his quarters, he strolled about among the saloons and gambling-dens, watched the playing, but neither drank nor gambled, and at last, tiring of looking on, went to his roost and turned in for the night, an object of curiosity to all, yet also of admiration, for a man who would volunteer to drive the coach over that trail was one to command respect in last chance. chapter xiv. the way it was done. the new driver drove the run to w--for several round trips, and not once was he held up. he made the regular time, drove without any accident whatever, attended to his business, associated with no one, or, that is, to be on intimate terms with any one, not even doctor dick, and still slept in his little shelter on the hill. he had fitted this up more comfortably, and said that he felt perfectly at home there, while on his return from w---he had led his horse back behind the coach, wishing to have him at last chance, where his stay was always two weeks, for there was only a day's stop at the other end of the run. he was wont to go on long hunts, mounted upon rawbones, as he called his horse, and he kept landlord larry well supplied with game. one day as old huckleberry was returning to last chance, and neared the dead line, the scene of the other hold-up, he suddenly threw his rifle to his shoulder and sent a shower of buckshot into a thicket ahead. a rifle-bullet from the other barrel was sent to the other side, and the whip was brought down upon his team in a way that put them into a run. seeing them well started he threw the reins over the brake and with a revolver in each hand opened a fusillade on both sides of the trail, while he called out to his passengers: "blaze away into the bushes, durn yer, for thar is game thar ter kill!" all this had not taken over half a dozen seconds, and that there was "game" in the thickets, and dangerous game at that, was proven by hearing several loud cries of pain, and stern orders given, while men were seen hunting shelter from the unexpected fusillade opened upon them. there were eight passengers in the coach, and, urged by the old driver, several of them obeyed and opened fire from the windows. the result was that where road-agents had been lying in wait for the coach, and were just about to show themselves and command a halt, they were taken completely by surprise and forced to seek shelter from the leaden messengers flying about them. the rapid fire caused the road-agents to believe that there was a coach full of soldiers, that a trap was prepared for them, and ere they could rally and their leader could convince them that it was not so, the coach had gone by the dead line and was going along the pass at the full speed of its horses, the reins now in the hands of old huck once more. the passengers all saw the panic-stricken road-agents, half a dozen in number, and, encouraged by the boldness of old huck, kept up a hot fire, which they felt confident had not been thrown away. when pursuit was no longer feared, old huck drew his team down to a trot, and, leaning over, called out: "we done 'em up thet time, pards." the passengers cheered the old driver, and when he drew rein at the hotel in last chance they quickly made known his act of heroism, for, throwing the reins upon the backs of his horses, he had gotten down from the box, reported the safe arrival of the coach to landlord larry, and gone in to his supper. when the story was told, of how bravely he had run the gantlet, landlord larry went in to have a talk with him, but found that he had finished his supper and gone. it was a cold evening, and there was snow flying, so, looking over to the hill where the little shanty of old huck was located, landlord larry saw a bright fire burning and at once went there. there sat old huck enjoying his pipe and warming his feet before the fire in the clay chimney he had built. he had a canvas covering the doorway, to keep out the cold and snow, and seemed as contented as could be in his lone quarters. "well old man, you seem happy," he said. "why not?" "you brought in a valuable freight to-night, in money and registered letters." "i know it." "do you know how much?" "ther agent at w---told me he thought about forty thousand, and so i made a rush, ter git through." "and did it grandly." "that's what i'm paid fer." "i have heard the story of your running the gantlet and surprising the road-agents." old huck laughed and replied: "waal, i calkilate as how they was astonished. you see i seen the tracks on the trail, foot-tracks, and fresh ones, goin' on toward the dead line, and so i kinder felt sart'in o' a hold-up. when i come to ther pass i seen ther top o' a small tree wavin' and knowed somebody were up in it looking over t'other trees. "so i jist up with old drop-'em, and i let drive with a handful o' bullets i had dropped into ther shot-barrel, and i put a piece o' lead on t'other side o' trail, dropped ther ribbons and set my two puppies ter barking, as soon as i hed laid ther silk onter ther team and got 'em inter a run. "i tell yer, landlord, it were prime fun and no mistake, and as ther insiders helped with ther guns, you bet we waltzed through them scared road-agents in a way that crippled 'em; and we come in on time. "that's all thar is of ther story, boss," and old huckleberry puffed away at his pipe again in the most unconcerned manner possible. hardly had old huckleberry finished his simple story of his brave act when a voice at the door said: "ho, old gentleman, i have just heard at the hotel of your splendid work this afternoon and have come to congratulate you." "come in, pard doc, and camp on that blanket thar before ther fire, i is glad to see yer, but i don't need no congratulations, for i hain't done nothing more than i oughter." "well, old man, you saved the lives of your passengers, and a rich freight, i learn, and i know as well as any one how to appreciate what you did, for i have driven the trail, you remember." "i know it, and done it well." "i also praised old huck, doc, but he does not care to be thanked; but what is to be done about this attempted attack on the coach?" said landlord larry. "i'll go out so as ter git thar at daybreak, and see if thar can be any trail found. it is spittin' now, but not much, and i guess we can find if we done any harm in our fire and maybe track the varmints," said old huck. "and i'll go with you," said landlord larry. "count me another," the doctor added. then it was decided to take a dozen men along, and the doctor and the landlord bade the old driver good night and departed, when he at once turned in, after throwing a large log upon his fire to burn until morning. "that is a strange old character, larry," said doctor dick as the two walked back to the hotel. "he is, indeed, doc. i do not understand him, for he is a mystery to me." "and to me; but do you think i should send another courier to buffalo bill making known this intended attack?" "no, write as you did before to him, and he'll get it by way of w----." "i'll do so; but did you learn anything in particular about this attack?" "nothing more than that fully half a dozen road-agents were seen, and but for the bold and prompt act of old huck there would have been death and robbery beyond all doubt." "he is a very daring man to do what he did." "he is indeed, and it will surely mark him for death with the road-agents." "beyond all doubt; but we must make a start early enough to bring us to the scene by daybreak, so good night." the two separated to meet again when old huck came up ready mounted to take the trail. the party who were to go were soon in the saddle, and they started off at a canter. there was just a trace of snow upon the ground, and they were glad to see that there was no more. a brisk gallop brought them to the dead line at dawn, and the search was at once begun. hardly any snow had fallen there, and in the piñons there was none, so that in several places the ground was stained red, showing that the fire from the coach had not been useless if not fatal. then old huck showed his skill as a trailer, for he at once went to work in a way that revealed the fact that he was an old hand at the business. he went from blood-stain to blood-stain in silence, examined the position of the thicket, took in the whole situation, and the direction of the stage when the firing had been going on, and at last started off up the cañon following a trail that was so faint that a number of the party said that there was no trail at all. but he climbed up the steep side of the cañon end, followed by the others, and there on the top were found several red spots in different places. "three, maybe dead, maybe only wounded," he said shortly. "those three stains tell you that, old man?" asked doctor dick. "yas, they took off their dead or wounded, as ther case might be, and halted ter rest after climbin' up here, and right here is whar they laid the dead or wounded down, while they was restin'." "well, which way now, huck, for your solution seems the right one," said doctor dick. "that's hard ter tell, for a horse wouldn't leave no track here," was the reply. chapter xv. a mysterious disappearance. that even old huckleberry had lost his grip on the trail, after reaching the top of the ridge, was soon evident, for, search as he might, he could find no trace of a track in the hard, rocky soil about them. "we'll scatter, pards, and try ter find another place whar they has rested the'r loads, for they won't carry heavy weights far up this slope without restin'," he said. so the party separated, and half an hour later a halloo from old huck brought them together again. there was another place where the road-agents had halted, for there were the three telltale spots of blood lying close together. again they separated on a search, but after hours spent in vain, they were forced to give it up, old huck remarking: "thar is snow higher up, so it's no use, now." back to last chance the party reluctantly retraced their way, after they had eaten their noonday meal, and all hope of finding a clue to the retreat of the road-agents was given up, save by old huckleberry, who each day went off on a hunt, though many were sure that it was a trail, not game, that he was hunting. when at last the day came for him to start off on his run, he mounted his box without the slightest apparent reluctance, nodded good-by and drove off on his perilous journey. there was much anxiety felt at last chance for his return, and a number talked of riding out to the dead line and meeting him, but this was not done, as a suggestion was made that the old man might not take it kindly, but look upon it as an interference, a belief that he was not able to take care of himself. when, however, the time for his arrival came, and no stage appeared, men looked anxiously at each other and wondered if the old man was another victim to the road-agents' hunt for gold. when an hour passed and there was no stage in sight, doctor dick said that he would mount his horse and go to see what was the matter. he was not allowed to go alone, for a score of mounted men at once followed him, and the ride was a rapid one to the dead line, for the coach was not met on the way. arriving at the dead line the coach loomed in sight. it was still, and dashing up the horses were found hitched to trees. but not a soul was visible. the box was empty, and not a soul was found within. where was old huck? that question could not be answered, and a search was at once begun. upon the stage-box blood was found. that looked very bad for old huck. some one had hitched those horses to the trees surely, but who? the coach, had evidently been searched, for the cushions were thrown out and the boot open, and yet, strange to say, the mail-bag had escaped the eyes of the searchers, being found by landlord larry where old huck always hid it, in one of the cushions arranged for the purpose by the old man. who had been killed, or what the coach had been robbed of, was not revealed. the party camped all night upon the scene, and a thorough search was made the next morning again for the missing driver. miles back on the trail had the miners ridden, and more, every rock and thicket by the way was thoroughly searched, yet all in vain. at last the party were reluctantly compelled to give up further search for old huck, be he dead or alive, for not the slightest clue could be found, and there was no trace of any trail whatever. doctor dick mounted the box and drove the coach back to last chance, and the miners had knocked off work and were assembled to hear bad news, which the delay caused them to look for. landlord larry and doctor dick at once held a consultation upon their return, and it was decided to send harding again to fort faraway as a courier with a message to buffalo bill. but when called upon to go, to the surprise of both, harding refused. "you went before, pard harding, so why refuse this time, when you know it is our duty to report, as agreed, to buffalo bill the attacks of the road-agents upon the coaches, that he may place the matter before the commandant?" said doctor dick, who was anxious to have the mysterious disappearance of old huckleberry known. "i went before, doctor dick, but i do not care to go again," was harding's firm rejoinder. "do you fear to go?" asked landlord larry, with a smile. "if you think that i am influenced by fear i will prove to the contrary," was the quiet rejoinder. "by going?" "no." "how then?" "have you a driver to take the coach out to w---on its next run, landlord?" "no, unless doctor dick will kindly do so." "i cannot," was the quick response of the doctor. "then i will," said the young miner. "you?" "yes, landlord." "do you know how to drive?" "i have driven six-in-hand often." "when?" "i drove wagons and ambulances in the army, and on one occasion drove the general with four-in-hand over four hundred miles of the worst country i ever saw." "i guess you will do, then, and it is far easier to get a courier to go to the fort, than it is a driver for the coach." "yes, as if i go under, pard larry, i will be number five." "five?" asked the doctor meditatively. "yes; bud benton was one, dave dockery two, doctor dick number three, and old huckleberry number four, so i will come in as _five_." "you are right." "and you are in earnest, harding?" asked the landlord. "certainly." "you know all that you risk?" "thoroughly." "then i retract my words in asking you if you feared to go to the fort as courier, for your volunteering as driver proves that you fear nothing." "all right. pard larry, let it go at that." "well, harding, consider yourself engaged for the berth of driver, and be ready to take the coach out on its next run." "you will find me on hand." "and let me tell you that i am authorized to pay three times the regular wages." "it will be acceptable." "if you live to get it," was the suggestive response of landlord larry. this having been settled upon, greatly to larry's relief, he further talked with doctor dick, and it was decided that as old huck had only disappeared, and the coach had not been robbed of the mails, they would send no report of the affair to buffalo bill, but wait and see how harding came out with his drive. the news soon spread about that hal harding had volunteered to drive the coach through to w---and he at once became a hero in the camps, for those bold fellows always loved heroism in a man above all other qualities. he was, however, regarded as a dead man beforehand, for that he would be killed seemed a foregone conclusion, and many felt pity for the fate that they felt assured would befall the handsome young miner. but harding seemed not to dread the drive in the least, but went on about his duties in his usual cheery way. sticking to the work in his mine he had found that it panned out richer than he had anticipated, and he already had partnership offers, and a good price if he would sell. he had kept his eyes open, too, in his secret-service work for buffalo bill, and had noted down certain discoveries he had made of a suspicious nature, and also had the names of a few whom he considered worth while watching. at last the day came for the coach to start out, and as nothing had been heard of old huck, hal harding reported at the hotel ready to mount the box and drive through. as he passed through the crowd he could not but hear several remarks that were made, one being: "he is number five, and he is doomed also." chapter xvi. taking chances. there was not a shadow of dread, at the fate that might be his, upon the face of hal harding as he mounted to the stage-box and gathered up the reins. the mails were aboard, and he knew that he had a valuable freight hidden away, as best it could be, of gold-dust, being risked by miners who were sending it eastward. what gold was to be sent out was always kept a secret, known only to the senders, to landlord larry, and the driver, and though it was taking chances to let it go, the senders were risking it, as gamblers chance money in large sums upon the turn of a card. then, too, there was a very strange feature in the holding up of the coaches, and that was the fact that they had never been halted on the outward run, no matter how much gold they carried out, but always when bringing back to last chance the exchange in bank-notes. the road-agents knew that they could carry large sums in money where they could not be bothered with gold in bulk, was the reason that landlord larry assigned for the attacks being made only on the westward runs of the coaches. not a passenger was to go, and harding sang out in a cheerful tone: "all ready." "go," cried larry, and the vehicle rolled away in a manner that showed that the young miner was a good driver, as he had asserted that he was. the crowd cheered wildly, the voices echoing down the cañon as he drove along, and now and then he would raise his hat to those who greeted him from their cabins and mines as he went along. out of the valley he turned, swinging at a brisk trot along through cañons, over hills, up mountains, by the way of narrow passes and down again to the valleys. he reached the relay-station nearest last chance, and made known to the stock-tender the fate of old huck. "you goes next, pard, for it won't be long afore doctor dick will come along and tell me that poor hal harding has gone under," said the sympathetic stock-tender. "think so?" "sure of it." "why doctor dick?" "waal, ef you gets kilt no other man in or out o' last chance will have ther grit to drive ther old death-trap, for thet hearse you is sittin' on is no more." "it is an unlucky old vehicle, i admit, pard; but i'll be going," and harding drove on once more. he had not seen a soul at the dead line. all was as quiet at that dread spot as the forms of those who had lost their lives there. only the stockmen at the station greeted him on the way, and at night he came to the halting-cabin a little ahead of time. he had the same story to tell at each one of the relay-stations, about the fate of old huck, and an ominous shake of the head from those who listened convinced him that they expected him to be the next victim. the next morning he rolled into w---a few minutes ahead of time, and the stage-agent seemed surprised to see a new man upon the box. he heard what harding had to say of old huck, listened to his report of his uneventful run, and received from him the way-bill of what he carried. "you have done well, mr. harding, and i hope we will hear no more of these attacks, so that you may escape, for, if they make a victim of you, i do not know who we can look to unless it be that fearless fellow, doctor dick." "and his practise, mining interests, and gambling occupy him so thoroughly that he will not drive again, sir, i am sure." "not unless no other can be found, for he is just the man to step in then in open defiance of danger." "yes, he is just what you say of him, sir." "now, how is that poor passenger who was crazed by a shot from the road-agents?" "aimlessly wandering about last chance, sir, harmless and to be pitied." "well, i have received letters asking about him, and had to make a report of the circumstances. it will be upon your return trip that you will have to be watchful." "i will be, sir, never fear," was the cheery response. the news of the mysterious disappearance of the old driver soon spread about w----, and people gathered about the stage-office to have a look at the brave fellow who had, in the face of the past experience, brought the coach through. the agent had told harding that if the mails had gone through nothing had been taken, for no freight had been sent and no passengers were along on that trip. as they had found nothing to take, the road-agents had doubtless visited their vengeance upon old huck, especially to repay him for having run the gantlet on a former occasion. there were passengers booked for last chance by stage, but when it became known that old huck had been killed, as all supposed he must have been, they concluded they were in no great hurry to reach the mining-camps and could wait a while longer. so harding discovered that he would have to return with an empty coach, as far as passengers were concerned. he showed no disappointment, however, at having to return alone, and was told by the agent that he was to carry back considerable money and a valuable mail. "all right, sir, i'll do my best to go through in safety," he said, and he grasped the outstretched hand of the agent, who said: "i feel as though i was shaking hands with a man about to die." "now, i don't feel that way in the least," was the laughing response, and harding sprang up to the box, seized the reins, cracked his whip when he got the word, and was off. the crowd gathered there cheered him, of course, but a generally sad expression rested upon every face as they looked upon the brave young miner who had taken his life in his hand to drive what was now called the death-trap. having halted for the night at the way cabin, harding pushed on the next morning with the first glimmer of dawn, and reached the third relay at noon. there was then one more relay and the run into last chance, which in good weather could readily be made before sunset. he passed the last relay, and the stock-tender said, as he was about to start: "good-by, pard, and do you know i kinder feels as if yer was a dead man already?" "don't you believe it, for i am worth a dozen dead men, old man," was the laughing response, and harding drove on, with the dead line rising in his mind before him. he drove more rapidly than was the schedule-time, and when he came into the pass, with the dead line just ahead, he had half an hour to spare. the horses pricked up their ears, as though they knew the doomed place well, and the leaders gave a snort as they beheld a form ahead. it was a man leaning against the cross erected in memory of bud benton. that harding also saw the form was certain, for his eyes were riveted upon the spot. as he drew nearer, the man moved away from the cross and advanced down into the trail. still harding made no move to halt, to rush by, or appeared to take notice of him. the man placed himself by the side of the trail, and stood as still as a statue, after making a slight sign, as it appeared. the answer of harding to this sign was to shake his head. on rolled the coach, and when it neared the silent form, without any command to do so, harding drew hard upon the reins, pressed his foot heavily upon the brake, and brought the coach to a standstill, the horses, which had before drawn it through the deadly dangers it had passed at that spot, showing a restless dread and expectancy of the cracking of revolvers. but there was no weapon drawn either by the man on the side of the trail, or by harding, and neither seemed to dread the other. the reason for this was that the one who had awaited the coming of the coach at the dead line was none other than old huckleberry. chapter xvii. a secret kept. just fifteen minutes before the time of arrival set for the coach by schedule, hal harding drove up to the hotel at last chance. from his entering the valley, and passing the first mine, he had been followed by cheer after cheer, until when he reached landlord larry's tavern there were many there to swell the chorus of welcome. larry greeted him most warmly, and when he saw what a valuable freight he had brought through with him, he told him that he was deserving of the highest praise. harding received the honors heaped upon him in a modest manner, and when asked by landlord larry if he had seen any road-agents, answered: "not one." "all quiet along the trail, then?" "as quiet as the grave." "i suppose you were anxious upon reaching the dead line?" "i think the horses were more nervous than i was, for they at least showed it." "you told the agent at w---about old huck's fate?" "of course, sir, i told him of his mysterious disappearance." "do you know i half-way hoped you would hear something of old huck at w----." "no, i heard nothing of him there." "and none of the stock-tenders had seen him?" "they did not speak to me of having done so." "well, he is gone, that is certain; but you have begun well, harding, and i hope may keep it up." "thank you, landlord larry, i hope that i will, for i have an abiding faith in the belief that i will live to be an old man." "i hope so sincerely," said the doctor, who had been an attentive listener to the conversation between the young miner and larry. "they say at w----, doctor dick, that if i go under, you will be the only man who will dare drive the coach through." "and i will not do it unless we are doomed to be cut off from all communication, and i see that last chance will be ruined, from fear of traveling the trail to it," said doctor dick decidedly. "how is your patient, doctor?" "which one, for i have a number of patients just now?" "the young man whose wound at the hands of the road-agents turned his brain." "i see him daily, and he is about the same, like a child, mentally." "they asked about him at w----, for the agent had received several letters regarding him." "ah!" said doctor dick, with interest. "what was their tenor?" "that he had come out west upon a special mission, and with considerable money, and, since leaving w---where he had written of his arrival, not a word had been heard from him." "i am glad that he has friends, then, for he will be cared for in his misfortune." "yes, doctor dick, and the agent hinted that some one was coming out to look him up." "i rejoice at this, for he needs care," the doctor rejoined, and he added: "i have been convinced that he was no ordinary individual, and had been well reared; but what a blow it will be to his friends to find him as he is, poor fellow." after some further conversation harding went to his cabin for the night; but he was not long in discovering that he was regarded as a hero by all. he had not made the slightest reference to having met old huckleberry at the dead line, and as he thought over the fact that he had done so, and the secret that was known to him alone, he muttered to himself: "if they only knew, what a sensation it would be for last chance, yes, and for w---as well, not to speak of the masked road-agent chief and his men, who thus far have been playing a winning game; but luck sometimes turns, and i guess it is nearing the turning-point now, and will come our way." harding reported for duty promptly when the time came around for him to take the coach again on its perilous run. "we have got considerable gold-dust aboard, pard, and a big outgoing mail, so i hope you will go through all right," said landlord larry, while doctor dick, who just then came up, said: "yes, harding, i have several valuable letters in the mail with drafts for large sums which i sincerely hope will not miscarry." "i'll do the best i can, doctor dick," was the answer, and harding went out and mounted the box. he could not but feel gratified at the size of the crowd that had gathered to see him depart, and he raised his sombrero politely in response to the cheers. he had gone through in safety once; but could he do it a second time? that was the thought in the brain of every man there assembled. at last the word was given, and away went the coach, cheered all the way down the valley until it was out of sight. as before, the young driver lost no time on the trail, but upon reaching the dead line, instead of seeming to dread the spot and wishing to drive rapidly by, he dismounted from the box, and, going to the cross, felt about among the wild flowers growing about it until he picked up a slip of paper, while he hastily read what he found written thereon. taking from his pocket a similar slip, on which there was writing, he thrust it out of sight in the spot he had taken the other from. then he returned to the coach and drove on once more as though he felt no fear of his surroundings. he reached the night-cabin on time, and surprised the stock-tender there by telling him that he intended to drive on to w---that night. "you don't mean it?" "i certainly do." "why, yer'll kill yer team, smash ther old box, and crush yerself to atoms." "i believe i can drive the road at night," was the firm response. "it's ther wust piece of road on ther whole overland trail." "it is a bad one, but i will depend upon my team mainly and risk it." "why do you do it?" "i have an idea that it will be safer." "how so?" "well, if there were road-agents on the trail to hold me up to-morrow, i'll miss them, that is all." "right you are, pard; but i don't believe they is as dangerous as traveling this trail to-night." "i'll let you know what i think upon my return," was harding's answer, and he drove on once more. night had come on, and he well knew the dangers before him from a mistake in driving. he had been over the road perhaps half a dozen times, always riding upon the box, but upon his last run as driver he had most carefully noted every foot of the way. the night was dark, but he knew that he had the instinct of his team to depend upon, and this was more than half the battle. he was determined to push through and save his load of gold, and if he did make a successful run over that part of the trail by night, he would do what no other driver had done, and on this account his pride was at stake. so he started boldly yet cautiously upon his way, and when the sun was just rising in w---the stage-agent there was awakened by wheels dashing up to his door and heard the call: "the coach from last chance has arrived." he was up in a hurry and congratulating the young driver upon his night drive, while he said: "do you know i feared you would be held up to-day, for a party of desperadoes lately left w----, and i felt most anxious about you." "yes, they are on the trail waiting for me now, not knowing that i slipped by in the night. i'll get together a band of brave fellows and go back after them," and an hour after harding was mounted upon a fine horse and leading a dozen men back upon the trail he had safely driven over in the night. chapter xviii. a mysterious sound. the stage-agent at w---was right in declaring that the coach might be held up on the rough trail that was always driven by daylight, for the party he feared were some wild fellows who had ridden into the settlement two days before and stated that they were on their way to the mines. they were well mounted and armed, had several packhorses with them, and, though not having the excuse of drinking to make them dreaded, had carried on in a way that caused all peaceably disposed persons to dread them. who they were no one knew, and when they left the place honest men breathed more freely and congratulated each other that no tragedy had occurred, as a reminder of their visit. they had gone out upon the trail to last chance late in the afternoon, and the agent felt sure that they would camp early and meet the coach the next morning, and the result he greatly feared, after a look at the party in question; so he was rejoiced to find that harding had taken the great risk of driving through by night. the crowd that he dreaded were five in number, and they were young men, bronzed-faced, brawny, and with an air of recklessness stamped upon them. that they were a dangerous lot their appearance indicated, and few men would care to face them where no help was at hand. they had halted some dozen miles from w----, and gone into camp on a brook a few hundred yards from the trail the stage would follow. that they knew their way well their movements were proof of, for they rode at once to the camping-place, staked out their horses, spread their blankets, and gathered wood to cook their supper with. the spot chosen was one where they could command a view of the trail for a mile in both directions, yet remain in concealment themselves. they had supper, then gambled a while by the light of the fire, and afterward turned in, setting no watch. it was about midnight when one of the party awoke, half-arose and listened. he heard a rumbling sound that seemed to surprise him. "i say, pards," he called out. a man awoke, and asked drowsily: "what is it, sully?" "i hear wheels." "nonsense." "but i do." "it's the roar of the stream." "i don't think so." "i does." others were awakened and listened, and they distinctly heard a low, rumbling sound. but, after some minutes, the sound died away and the one who had first discovered it asked: "do you think it could have been the coach?" "no, indeed." "why not?" "no man living would dare drive a coach over this trail at night." "it sounded to me like wheels." "there it is again." all listened attentively, and then one said: "it is the wind in the pines." the wind was rising and this solution of mysterious sound seemed to settle the matter, so all laid down in their blankets once more. the man who had discovered the sound was the one to arise first in the morning, and the day was just dawning when he left his blankets, gazed about him, and then walked over to where the stage-trail ran, several hundred yards from their camp, and along through a bit of meadow-land. he had hardly reached the trail when he gave a loud halloo, which brought his comrades from their blankets in an instant, and his call set them coming toward him at a run. "look there, pards!" he cried, and as each man reached his side he stood gazing down at the trail. "the stage has gone by," said one, with an oath, as his eyes fell upon the tracks of the six horses and the wheel-marks, lately made. "then one man was bold enough to dare the drive at night!" "sure, and the chief will be furious with us!" "what is to be done now?" "the coach is safe in w---now, for if that fellow drove safely over the back trail he had no trouble beyond here." "then we had better get a move on us." "sure, for that agent suspects us, and there'll be a gang on our heels mighty quick," and hastening back to camp, the party mounted and rode rapidly on toward the mountains. chapter xix. a fair passenger. harding had ridden rapidly upon the trail back toward the night relay, for he felt sure that the agent was right in his conjecture that the party of wild fellows who had left w---had intended to hold him up on the trail the next day when he came along. in fact, the slip of paper he had picked up at the dead line had been a warning to that effect, and hence he had dared take the drive at night, hoping thus to elude his foes, and had been successful. when he reached the trail where the party had turned off to camp, they soon came upon their halting-place, and as the ashes of their fire was cold, it proved that they had departed before having breakfast there. "something frightened them off," said harding. "but i wonder they did not hear my wheels, camping as they did this near to the stage-trail." "they kept no watch, doubtless; but will you follow them?" "yes, to the relay-station at least." arriving there, for their trail had been lost in the rocky soil, harding found that the men had not passed, so they turned back for w----, arriving there by nightfall. the coaches that came in from the south and east the next morning brought valuable mail for last chance, and, to the surprise of all, a lady passenger. she was young and veiled, but enough was seen of her face to reveal its beauty. she was dressed in perfect keeping for one on a long journey, and carried only a small trunk with her. she told the station-agent that her name was celeste seldon, and that she had come west for a double purpose, searching for her father, and one other whom she was most anxious to find. the last she had heard of her father was in a letter dated from w----, and a secret communication, also mailed from w----, was the last tidings received from the second person she sought. "i wrote you, mr. agent," she said in her sweet way, "asking about a young man, bernard brandon by name, who had come west upon a special mission. you replied that he had been to w---and gone on from here to last chance, a mining-camp, and though i have written there, no response came, so i decided to come myself and investigate. have you heard anything more of mr. brandon?" the agent looked troubled and, seeing it, she said quickly: "you have heard of him, so i beg you to tell me all." "i regret to say, miss, that he was wounded on his way to last chance, shot by road-agents; but here is harding, the driver of the last chance coach, and he can tell you all." harding did not appear to like having to give pain to the young girl, but he frankly told her of the wound of the young man, who could be no other than bernard brandon, and the pitiful result. "i will go to him. when do you start, sir?" "this afternoon, miss; but the trail is a very dangerous one, and i had better bring him back with me." "no, i will go with you and i will speak for the box-seat, if it is not engaged." "oh, no; no seats are engaged, for all dread the trail between here and last chance." "i do not, so i ride with you, sir, on the box-seat," was the determined reply of the young girl. she paid her fare, and when the coach started, after having dinner at the agent's, mounted to the box with harding's aid, and took her seat by the young driver, while the crowd yelled lustily as they drove off to face the dangers of the trail. harding drove off with the air of one who felt his full responsibility in having the care of a young and beautiful girl, who dared risk the dangerous road he had to travel. he found that his fair companion, as soon as she left the settlement, was very beautiful, for she removed her veil when only having to be gazed upon by one person, and that one a very handsome young miner. it did not take her very long to discover that her companion, though driving an overland coach, was above the average she had thus far met with among the western wilds, for he was polite, well-informed, and his courage was proven by what he was then doing; for miss seldon had been told by the agent just what trouble they had had on the line. the night relay was reached, and as there had been no expectation of ever accommodating young ladies, no provision had been made for them, so harding and the stock-tender yielded the cabin to the fair passenger, while they occupied a shanty near-by. the stock-tender exerted himself to make her comfortable, and to provide the best supper and breakfast his larder would allow. "what a surprise they will get in last chance when they see her, pard. why, them miners will make a goddess of her, whatever that may be," said the stock-tender. "yes, if we only get through, pard, for do you know i am more anxious now than when i am alone?" "why is that?" "well, i have my reasons; but let me tell you that i mean fight on this run if we are held up," and the eyes of the young driver flashed fire. the next morning the coach started upon its way half an hour earlier than usual, and harding pushed his horses along at a far faster pace than they were accustomed to. for some reason he seemed anxious to get by the dead line far ahead of time, and to push on into last chance with all speed that was possible. he found his fair charge most entertaining, and she asked him all about life in the wild west, and he was surprised to discover how much she knew of the frontier and its characters. she spoke of army officers known to her well by name, mentioned buffalo bill as a hero well known in the east, and seemed anxious to glean all the information she could of the strange country into which she had ventured. at last she touched upon the cause of her coming, and her face saddened as she said: "it grieves me deeply to learn of the sad result of mr. brandon's wound, though i cannot but feel, as you say that he is bodily strong, that something can be done to restore his mind. "he came here on a mission for me, to find my father, who, i will confess to you, was driven west by pretended friends and false misrepresentations that kept him here, as though he had been the veriest criminal hiding from justice. "but it is not so, and i long to find my father and restore him to his home and those who love him. have you ever heard of him here?--his name was andrew seldon." "no, miss seldon, i never have heard the name, that i now recall. where was he when last you heard of him?" "seven letters came into my possession long after they were written, for i have not seen my father for seven long years, and i was a little girl then, and the last of those letters was mailed at w----. "in it he stated that he had been in the mining country, had been most successful, and would come home within a year or two. but this letter did not come to my hands directly, and it was answered by others, his enemies and mine, and so i, upon learning the truth, and of a cruel plot against him and myself, got mr. brandon to come and look him up that he might know all. "as a dread came, upon receiving the agent's letter, that harm had befallen mr. brandon, i decided to come at once to the west myself, for i was reared on a plantation, am a good rider, have been inured to hardships and can handle firearms when there is need for them, so i was fitted for just such a trip as i am now taking; but here i am making a confidant of you, mr. harding, when i should be keeping my own counsel." "oh, no, i am glad to know more of you, and it may be in my power to aid you, for i will gladly do all i can." "i feel that, and we will be friends; but why do you look so anxious?" "do i?" "yes, you do." "well, to be candid, i am anxious for your sake, not mine, for i half-dread trouble on this run, and we are nearing the scene of several tragedies which the miners call the dead line. will you not ride in the coach now?" "no; i take all chances with you and remain where i am," was the plucky reply of celeste seldon. chapter xx. masked foes. the brave response of celeste seldon pleased the young miner, though he did not wish her to remain upon the box. he knew the merciless nature of the road-agents, and that if they fired without challenging him, she stood, in as much danger as he did of being killed or wounded. so he said: "i would much rather that you should go inside the coach, especially until we pass the dead line." "no; i remain here." "you are determined?" "i am." "then i can say no more, and i hope, recognizing that i have a lady with me, they will not fire upon me." "you seem to confidently expect an attack." "i am sorry to say that i do." "may i ask your reasons?" "well, i happen to know that one who was secretly on watch here on my last run is not here to-day, having been called away. i also know that five horsemen, whom i have reason to believe to be road-agents, left w---ahead of me for the purpose of robbing the coach." "have you much of value with you?" "i have considerable money in bank-notes for miners at last chance." "is it too bulky for me to hide?" "i think not, miss." "then let me try it." a halt was made and the money taken from its hiding-place. then the girl asked: "do you know the amount that is here?" "yes, miss, it is stated here," and he handed out a paper. "i will take the paper and the money, for i can hide it," and with this she put it in a silk bag that she carried and fastened it securely beneath the skirt of her dress. feeling relieved on this point, harding drove on and soon after came in sight of the dead line. he had just come up level with the cross that marked the spot of former tragedies, and was talking to his team, which showed much nervousness at passing a scene which they realized as one to dread, when loud rang a voice: "hold hard, harding, or you are a dead man!" not a soul was visible among the rocks or in the trees, and harding had it flash through his mind to make a dash, when quickly the hand of the young girl was laid upon his arm and she said firmly: "obey!" "i must do so," was the low reply, for the young man realized that it would bring a volley upon them to attempt to dash through. so his foot went hard down upon the brake, as he pulled his horses up and the stage came to a halt. "make your lines fast around the brake and hands up now!" came the order from the unseen foe. "you must obey," said celeste seldon, as the driver hesitated. with a muttered imprecation harding obeyed, and then out from the thicket came a horseman. his horse was enveloped in a black blanket, and the rider wore a black robe like a domino, shielding his form completely. his face was covered by a red, close-fitting mask, while a cowl covered his head. "the devil on horseback," muttered harding, as he beheld the man, and right there he made up his mind that if he was the sole one who held up the coach, he would watch his chance, if he could get celeste seldon away from his side, and try a duel with him for mastery. but this hope died away when, as though suspecting the intention of harding, the horseman called out: "come, men, and let us get to work." silently there came out of the thicket half a dozen men on foot, but all enveloped in black robes, wearing red masks, and with their feet clad in moccasins, while a quick glance at the hoofs of the horse ridden by the chief showed that he had muffles on, to prevent making a track. the girl calmly surveyed the scene. the half-dozen men appearing at the call of their chief seemed to be well trained, for two of them went to the heads of the horses, two more to either door of the coach, and the others awaited orders. the horseman rode close up to the side of the coach, his hand upon his revolver. "harding, i see that you meditate resistance if opportunity offers, but let me warn you that you are a dead man the instant you make any attempt to escape or fire upon us. i would kill you now without the slightest hesitation, only i fear it would break up the line and travel to last chance, and that i do not wish. dismount from that box, and, remember, my revolver covers you!" harding obeyed in sullen silence. "now, what freight have you on?" "i have the mails, and this lady passenger, but, low as you are, you will not rob her, i hope." "there was money sent through by you to last chance." "you pretend to know this, but i have no money for last chance." "i know better." "there is the coach, search it; but let me tell you, if you touch the united states mails you will have every soldier stationed at w---and at faraway on your track." "i believe you are right about that, and i do not care to fight the government by robbing the mails; but the money i want." "i have not got any, i told you." "i do not believe you." "then find it." "i will." a thorough search of the coach was made, and then the driver was searched, but without any money being found. "i know that the sum of thirty thousand dollars was to be sent by you to the miners in last chance." "you know this?" "yes." "how?" "never mind, but i know it." "well, you see that your spy misinformed you." "as the money cannot be found it is a dead loss to me, and i hold you responsible." "all right, i am." "but, as i said, if i kill you no man will be found to take your place----" "oh, yes, doctor dick will." "d---doctor dick--i beg pardon, miss, but he refers to one whom i hate, and some day will be avenged upon." "well, if you kill me you will have the chance, for he will drive." "with even that hope to get even with him, i will not kill you, yet i must have that money or a hostage." "take me, then." "no, i could not realize the amount on you." "then do without." "not i, when there is a hostage at hand." "who?" "this lady." "coward! you would not dare." "won't i? then see, for that lady becomes my prisoner until i receive that money." "what money?" "the thirty thousand you beat me out of to-day." "how can you get it by taking me with you?" asked celeste seldon quietly. "why, very easily, miss." "how so, may i ask?" "harding will go on to last chance and report that i have you as my prisoner, to hold until the miners pay me the sum of--well, i'll add interest, so call it thirty-five thousand dollars." "the miners have nothing to do with me, sir, they do not even know me." "that does not matter, for they are a gallant lot of men, rough though they may look, and many of them be, so, when it is known what i have done, they will chip in generously and the money will be raised very quickly." "how will you get it?" asked harding. "i will meet you on any day we may agree upon, at this spot, with this lady, and you will come alone, as i will, and the exchange of the hostage for the money will be made. if you come with others, or attempt treachery, i swear to you i will kill the girl before your eyes, so if you wish to have that done, play traitor, while, if you act squarely with me, all will be well. what do you say?" "i say, as it cannot be otherwise, i will be your hostage until the money is paid you," said celeste seldon firmly. chapter xxi. the sacrifice. the plucky stand taken by celeste seldon won the admiration of harding at once. he did not understand why she had been so prompt in her reply, so willing to at once yield herself as a hostage until a ransom was received for her release. but she did offer, and he at once decided what he should do. "see here, cutthroat," he said, "i have something to say to you." "well, out with it, but be more choice in your epithets bestowed on me, if you wish to keep in good health." "what! don't like the name, eh? well, i called you by a name that denotes your calling." "what have you to say?" "just this, that if you will allow this young lady to ride on to last chance, on one of my stage-horses, for he will carry her safely there, i will remain your hostage until landlord larry sends the money out to you which you demand." "as a hostage you are of no value, but the lady is." "well, again?" "what is it?" "if i pay you the amount you said was to be sent by me, will you let the lady go?" "when will you pay it?" "now." "do so, and i will let the lady go free." "no, no, sir, you have not the money," cried celeste to harding. "yes, miss, i can make it good, for i have a little more saved up than he demands, and i can start over again to lay up a fortune, you see, for i am young yet." "i will not consent to that, except that i return you the money, my kind friend, for i am well able to do so. i will recompense you, by paying you back my ransom." "we will not quarrel on that score, miss, so give him the money," said harding. celeste turned, and, raising her skirt, took the bag of money from its hiding-place. this she handed to harding, who threw it at the masked outlaw's feet with the remark: "your spy informed you correctly; there is the money; just thirty-two thousand dollars." "thank you," said the outlaw, quietly counting the money before he spoke again. "yes, it is all here. now, miss, had harding ransomed you, it was your intention to have repaid him, you said." "by all means, for i have no claim upon that brave gentleman." "you are able to pay back so large a ransom, are you?" "had i not been able to pay it back i would not have made the offer to do so." "you have not got the money with you?" "oh, no, i am no traveling bank, nor am i a fool." "well said; but as you are able to pay a ransom for yourself, i shall hold you a prisoner until you pay me the money i demand." an oath burst involuntarily from the lips of harding at this treachery on the part of the road-agent, while the young girl turned pale with momentary dread. but she said firmly: "after receiving the money you demanded, and which i feel it my duty to pay back, as it is really my ransom, will you be so vile, so lost to all manhood, as to enforce your words against me?" "what more can you expect of one who has no character, who is already damned body and soul. oh, no, i have no conscience, so do not appeal to me, for all i wish in the world is gold, and that i will have, no matter who the victim or what the means i have to take to get it." "you are indeed lost to every human feeling." "so i said, and you are my prisoner until this man, harding, brings me, well, say thirty thousand dollars ransom money for your safe delivery to him once more. now, miss, i will take your baggage along, for you may need it, and you will go with me." "where would you take me?" "to my retreat, and you will be treated with respect; but money i must have. as for you, harding, go on to last chance and raise the money for this lady's ransom. give it to doctor dick, and let him come with you in your coach on your next run out. "halt just here, and he will be met by one of my men with this lady. if others come, her life shall be the forfeit. when my messenger receives the money, this lady shall be given into the charge of doctor dick. do you understand?" "i do, and you will understand that all of last chance, every man capable of carrying a gun, will be upon your trail before night." "just let any one pursue me, and instead of finding me, you will discover the dead body of this young girl in the trail awaiting you. remember, i am not to be followed, or intimidated. do you understand now?" harding made no reply, for he was too much overcome to speak; but the small leather trunk belonging to celeste seldon having been taken from the coach, along with a side-saddle and bridle she had brought with her, the driver clasped her hand in farewell. harding was unable himself to speak, for his emotion at being unable to protect the girl. celeste seldon said to the outlaw: "i would like to have a word with this gentleman." "before me, yes," said the masked chief. "very well, i have no secret to make known to him, so you may hear." then, turning to harding, she continued: "you have been most kind to me, sir, and i appreciate it. you have done all in your power for me, no one could do more; but let me say to you if you can raise the sum demanded by this--this--robber, do so, and every dollar shall be refunded to you within a few days after my return east." "the men won't ask it, miss." "but i shall pay it. now to the reason in part of my coming here." "yes, miss." "try to find out for me among the miners if a man by the name of andrew seldon is known to any of them, and, if so, where he is." "i will." "try also to do all in your power for that poor young man bernard brandon, who, you told me, had been crazed by a bullet-wound, doubtless given by this very--murderer." "yes, i shot him, and killed dave dockery, the driver, and a miner at the same time," was the remark of the masked road-agent, delivered with the utmost effrontery. "you seem proud of your red work, sir." "yes, killing is a trade with me just now." celeste seldon turned from him with disgust and horror, and, addressing harding, continued: "ask the one you spoke of as doctor dick to do all in his power for that poor sufferer, and he shall be well rewarded for it. when i am released i will go to last chance, as it was my intention, and do all i can to find my father, and minister to the sufferings of poor mr. brandon. now, i thank you once more and bid you good-by." harding clasped her hand, dared not to trust himself to speak, but there were volumes in the look of intense hatred he cast upon the masked face of the road-agent chief. then he mounted to the stage-box, gathered up his lines, and drove away in a silence that was most expressive. harding glanced back as he came to the end of the cañon, but saw that the road-agents and their fair prisoner had already disappeared. then the lash descended upon the backs of the startled horses and the team was sent along at a pace that was dangerous indeed. but harding could only find vent for his pent-up feelings by rapid and reckless driving, and never before had the distance between the dead line and last chance been covered in the time in which he made it. notwithstanding his delay at the dead line, he went thundering up the valley half an hour ahead of time, and when he drew rein before the hotel his horses were reeking with foam and panting like hard-run hounds, while his face was white, his eyes ablaze with anger and indignation, and his teeth set firmly. "great god! harding, what has happened?" cried landlord larry in alarm. throwing the mail at the feet of the surprised landlord, harding leaped to the ground and said hoarsely: "come, i wish to speak to you." he led the way into the office and then told the whole story. "we will mount a hundred men and go in pursuit at once," cried larry. "what! do you forget his threat?" "what threat?" "to kill the girl!" "he will not do it." "he will." "no, he dare not." "you do not know him--i do." "well, what is to be done?" "just what he demands." "what! pay him?" "by all means, and save the girl!" "you are right." "but have all ready then, the moment that she is safe, to throw five hundred mounted men on a hunt for him, have the entire country about dead line surrounded, and then hunt him and his men to death," savagely said harding. "yes, it must be done; but now to tell the men what has happened," and landlord larry went out, followed by harding, to find a large crowd of miners gathered about the hotel. chapter xxii. the ransom. landlord larry was considerably nonplused by what had been told him by harding, and he hardly knew how to break the news to the miners. hundreds had assembled, for the mad race of harding's team up the valley had told them that something had gone wrong. so they had hurried in twos and by half-dozens to the hotel to hear what had happened. they were more eager to learn it all when it was told how harding had made no report, but had led landlord larry into the office and been closeted there with him an hour. the panting horses had been led away to the stable, the mail had been opened by landlord larry's clerk, and many had gotten letters. but the interest in letters was lost in the desire to learn what had happened on harding's run in. when the two men were seen coming out of the hotel, a wild yell greeted them. landlord larry stepped out upon the piazza, and at once a silence fell upon the crowd, while every eye was turned upon the white face of harding. "men, i have bad news for you," said landlord larry. "the coach has been held up again, and thirty-two thousand dollars in money, given to driver harding to bring to last chance, was taken. there are some forty of you who feel this loss, having sent your gold out to be exchanged for this money. but that is not the worst of it. "the mails were not disturbed, as the road-agent said that he wished no trouble with the government. nor is this all, for harding had a passenger with him on this run, a young girl." "where is she?" came in a chorus of voices. "i will tell you: there were seven road-agents, all masked, and their chief mounted. they held the coach up at the dead line, and they covered harding with their rifles, and demanded the money which, in some way, they knew he had. "the young lady had hidden it for him, but as she was to be held for ransom, she gave it up, and, learning that she was rich, the road-agent chief then demanded ransom from her." and speaking slowly and distinctly landlord larry went on to tell the whole story of the coach and taking of celeste seldon captive. the crowd was as silent as death, except for the suppressed breathing of the men, and the bronzed faces of the miners paled and flushed by turns. when at last it was told how a ransom of thirty thousand dollars was demanded, before a word had been said that it would be paid back, a yell arose: "we'll raise it!" "good! that is just what i knew you would do, pards, and i will head the list with five hundred," said landlord larry. "put me down for five hundred," called out harding, and the two offers were cheered, while a stern voice called out behind the landlord: "put me down for a thousand, larry, for i have heard all that you have told the men." it was doctor dick, who, seeing the crowd in front of the hotel, had come to the piazza by passing into the house through the rear door. another cheer greeted the sum named by doctor dick, and there arose cries on all sides as men pressed forward: "i'll give a thousand, landlord!" "name me for fifty." "put me on the list for a hundred!" "twenty-five for me!" and so on were the sums named by the noble-hearted and generous fellows, even those who had lost their money by the road-agents subscribing, until doctor dick called out, for he had been keeping account: "hold on, all! the amount is already named. now, men, form in line, and give your names as you pass along, and the money, those who have it." it was late when the ransom list was made up, and the men had not heeded the supper-gong until after they had paid their subscriptions. then landlord larry packed the money away, and the crowd dispersed to their various occupations and pleasures for the night, which may be set down as consisting principally of drinking and gambling. the question regarding the unfortunate girl who had fallen into the hands of the masked and merciless outlaws being settled, the driver said to landlord larry and doctor dick, who had returned to the office in the hotel. "now i wish to see about the poor fellow whom that young girl was coming out to see, and also to learn about her father." "who was her father?" asked landlord larry. "her name is celeste seldon, and she wished me to ascertain if her father had ever been heard of in the mines. his name was andrew seldon." "andrew seldon?" quickly said doctor dick. "yes." "i know of such a man, or, rather, knew of him, for he is dead now," was the response of the gambler. a cloud passed over the face of harding, and he remarked sadly: "that poor girl seems doomed to have sorrow dog her steps. but you knew her father, doctor?" "yes, i knew him long years ago, and i happen to know of his having been out here, working for a fortune in the mines, i believe." "you are sure that it is the one she seeks?" "the names are the same. the andrew seldon i knew was from tennessee." "so was her father, and he must be the man you refer to. but where did he die?" "i'll tell you what i have not made known to others. buffalo bill and i struck a trail to see what the end would bring to us, and the night before we came to the end those we sought were buried by the caving-in of a mine which they were working under a cliff. one of those men was andrew seldon, and he had a companion with him." "and they were killed?" "yes, buried under the cliff, that fell upon their cabin, destroying all." "you must tell the story to the young girl, for i cannot, doctor." "i will do so, though i hate to give a woman pain." "now, doctor, i wish to ask about the one she seeks here in last chance." "who is he, harding?" "the poor fellow you so devotedly cared for, but whose reason was destroyed by the wound he received from the road-agents." "ah, yes, poor fellow, his mind is irrevocably wrecked." "where is he?" "landlord larry can tell you better than i, for he seems to avoid my cabin since i gave him up as a patient." "he wanders about among the camps at will; but that reminds me that i have not seen him to-day," the landlord said. "is he the one the girl is coming to see?" asked doctor dick. "yes, and his name is bernard brandon. he came out here on a special mission for her, i suppose to find her father, and not hearing from him she feared that he had gotten into trouble, so came west herself in search of him." "well, her coming may bring back his reason, though i doubt it." "will you not question him, doctor, telling him about her, and see if you cannot get him to talk rationally?" "certainly, harding, but where is he?" landlord larry asked his clerk about the man, but he had not seen him all day, and, the miners being questioned, not one recalled having seen him since the day before. in some dread that harm had befallen him, harding then went out in search of the poor fellow. he went from miner to miner and camp to camp in his vain search, for not anywhere could he find any one who had seen the missing man for over twenty-four hours. becoming really alarmed, when he realized the shock it would be to celeste seldon, whose hazardous and costly trip to the west would be utterly useless, harding went back to the hotel to consult doctor dick and landlord larry about giving a general alarm. then alarms were only given in times of direct need, for the miners were sworn to obey the call, and come from every camp and mine within the circuit of habitation about last chance. the alarm was given by sending a mounted bugler to every prominent point in the valley, where he was to sound the rally three times. a half-dozen positions thus visited would send the bugle-notes into every camp of the valley, and it was the duty of all miners to at once strike for the place of assembly at the hotel, and give the warning to all others whom they saw. landlord larry hearing the story of harding's fruitless search for the stranger, at once decided to order the alarm sounded without consulting doctor dick, who was not at his cabin. so the bugler was called in, and, mounting a speedy horse, he placed the bugle to his lips and loud, clear, and ringing resounded the "rally." then he dashed from point to point at the full speed of his horse, and within half an hour, from half a dozen prominent positions, the bugle-call assembling the miners had rung out and men were hastening to obey the summons. within an hour every man in last chance had reported at the assembling-point, all eager to know the cause of the alarm. again landlord larry was the speaker, and he began by asking if the unfortunate stranger, whose wound had crazed him, was in the crowd. every eye was at once on the search for the man, but soon the reports came that bernard brandon was not in the crowd. then landlord larry made known that the mysterious disappearance, at the time of miss seldon's capture by the road-agents, was a coincidence so strange that it needed explanation. miss seldon was coming to last chance to find that very young man, who had in turn come there in search of her father, and now, when she was a captive to the road-agents, to be given up only upon the payment of a large ransom, the stranger had most mysteriously disappeared. the name of the young lady's father was andrew seldon, and if any miner present could tell aught regarding him, or had known such a man, the landlord wished him to come and tell him all that he could about him. but it was the duty, and but justice, for one and all of them to set out on the search for the young stranger who had disappeared from their midst, and he wished to know if they would not take a day off and do so, for it might be that he had been injured, and was then lying suffering and deserving their sympathy and aid somewhere among the mountains. a perfect yell in answer to the request of landlord larry told him that bernard brandon would be found if he was in or near last chance, and so it was agreed that all would start at dawn the following morning, many mounted, many on foot, and report the result, if good or bad, at the hotel at night. so the miners' meeting broke up, and with the first gray in the east the following morning, four-fifths of last chance were off, searching for the missing man. as they wore themselves out, or completed the search over the circuit assigned them, the men came in and reported at the hotel. each had the same story to tell, that the search had been a fruitless one. many of the mounted men did not come in until after dark, but theirs was the same story, that no trace of the missing stranger could be found. at last every man who had been on the search had returned, and not the slightest trace of the missing brandon had been discovered by a single one who had gone out to look for him. no one remembered to have seen him very lately, and so his fate was unsolved, and the miners put it down as unknown, with the belief that he had either been kidnaped by road-agents or had fallen into some stream, or from a cliff, and thus met his death. the belief of landlord larry and harding was that bernard brandon had been captured, for some reason, by road-agents, and this convinced them that there were spies of the outlaws then dwelling in their midst; but what the motive for kidnaping the man was, they could only conjecture, believing it to be ransom that they thought the miners would pay, and, if they did not, that celeste seldon would. this belief, of spies in their midst, caused a very unpleasant and uneasy feeling among all, for hardly any man knew whether he could trust his own comrade or not. doctor dick came in late from his search and rounds to visit his patients, and listened in silence to the report that bernard brandon could not be found. he, however, would not believe that road-agents had kidnaped the crazed man, but said that he might have sprung from the cliff and taken his own life, have fallen over a precipice, or been devoured by the fierce mountain-wolves that hung in packs about the camps. chapter xxiii. the outlaws' captive. it was with a sinking heart that celeste seldon saw harding drive away upon the stage, leaving her in the power of the road-agents. but she was a brave girl, and determined to show the outlaws that she did not fear them, no matter how great her dread of them was in reality. the saddle and bridle she had brought with her were carried along for a couple of miles, and placed upon a led horse, one of half a score hidden there, and the masked chief started to aid her to mount. but she said with a sneer: "i need no assistance from you." with this she placed her hands upon the horn and leaped lightly into the saddle. her leather trunk was then strapped securely upon a pack-saddle, and the chief said: "now, miss seldon, that you and my men are mounted, we will start." she turned her horse on the trail behind him, and the other outlaws followed, all riding in indian file and with several packhorses bringing up the rear. after a ride of a dozen miles a halt was made for a rest, the chief said, and then celeste seldon observed that the hoofs of every horse were muffled, to prevent their leaving a trail. having been left something over a couple of miles from the scene of the holding up of the stage, it would be next to impossible for the best of trailers to discover which way the road-agents had come to the spot and left it, for the chief's muffled-hoofed horse would leave no track to where the other animals were. tired out and anxious, celeste seldon, after eating sparingly of the food given her by the chief, sat down with her back to a tree, and, closing her eyes, dropped into a deep sleep. when she was awakened to continue the journey she found that she had slept an hour. "we are ready to go miss," said the man who had appeared to be the chief's lieutenant, and whom he had called wolf, whether because it was his real name, or on account of his nature, celeste did not know. "i am ready," she said simply, refreshed by her short nap. "shall i aid you to mount, miss?" "no, i can mount without your aid; but where is your chief?" "he has gone on ahead, miss, to prepare for your coming, leaving me to escort you." "i am content, for one is as bad as the other," was the reply, and, leaping into her saddle again, she fell in behind the man wolf, and the march was again begun. night came on, but the outlaws rode on for an hour or more, when they halted at a small spring in a thicket. celeste was made more comfortable in a shelter of boughs, hastily cut and thrown up, and when supper was ready she ate heartily of antelope-steak, crackers, and coffee. she was rather glad to have got rid of the masked chief, of whom she stood in the greatest awe, and wolf never spoke to her unless she addressed some remark to him. when she lay down upon the blanket-bed, spread upon fine straw, which he had made for her, she sank at once to sleep. she had no thought of escape, for what could she do there alone in that wild, trackless land? she would bide her time and await the result, be it what it might. she was awakened early in the morning, and the march was at once begun again, a halt being made a couple of hours later for breakfast. while it was being prepared she was allowed to wander at will, wolf calling her only when it was ready, and thus showing that they had not the slightest idea that she would do so foolish a thing as to escape from them, to perish in the wilderness, or meet death by being attacked by wild beasts. when the start was again made, wolf said: "when we halt for our noon camp, miss, i will have to blindfold you, and bind your hands." "ah! you consider me very dangerous, then?" she said, with a smile. "you doubtless are dangerous, miss, in more ways than one; but it is to prevent your seeing where we take you that you are to be blindfolded." "do you think i could guide a party after you?" "you have the nerve to do it, miss." "but why bind my hands?" "to prevent your removing the bandage from your eyes, miss." "i will pledge you my word that i will not do so." "i believe you would keep your word, miss; but the chief is a man who is merciless, and his orders were to blindfold and bind you, and if i disobey he would shoot me down as though i were in reality a wolf." "perhaps not much loss, but i will submit," said celeste with a sigh, for she had enjoyed the scenery, and her freedom as well this far, and now must be both blindfolded and bound. chapter xxiv. the two fugitives. it will be remembered that when buffalo bill and doctor dick rode away from the caved-in mine and crushed cabin of the two gold-hunters in the grand cañon, there were human eyes following their movements that they little dreamed were upon them. gazing at them from a hiding-place half a mile away were two men whose faces showed much anxiety as they saw the scout and the gold king moving about their quarters, when they had believed themselves hidden from all search by friend or foe. those two were andrew seldon and lucas langley. their escape had been miraculous, from being buried in the mine beneath the cliff, and they had established for themselves new quarters up the grand cañon a few miles away from their former home. this new camping-place was more secluded than the former one, and approached by a narrow ridge that no one would believe a horse could pass along, for in places it was only eighteen inches wide. but andrew seldon had gone first along it on foot, and found beyond, up in the depths of a large cañon opening into the mightier one, a perfect garden spot and scene of beauty. a crystal stream trickled down a lofty precipice and flowed through the cañon, and in its bed glittered grains of gold innumerable. back under the shadows of the towering cliffs there were found veins of precious metal giving promise of rich mines. there were trees growing luxuriously in this nature's park, velvety grass covering acres of meadow-land, wild fruits that were delicious, and everything to make this home a most charming one. they first made the effort to get their horses across the narrow ridge, upon either side of which was an abyss a quarter of a mile in depth, seamed with ravines, and looking like the craters of defunct volcanoes. the first horse tried, andrew seldon's own riding-animal, followed his master without hesitation along the dizzy, awful pathway. turning, seldon led him back again, and then the other animals followed slowly, and though nervously, yet without accident. they were repaid for their fright when turned loose upon the acres of luxuriant grass in the valley. a fence of poles made a barrier across the narrow entrance of the valley, and so the horses were allowed to roam at will. a stout cabin was next built, and the two men having made themselves comfortable for the winter, were ready to begin their search for gold, feeling safe once more in their retreat, for who would believe that they had crossed that narrow ridge to find a hiding-place beyond? and here these two men, so strangely met, with mysterious lives, and both in hiding from the world, settled down to win a fortune from the generous earth, to earn riches that would make them comfortable in their latter years far from the scenes that had known them in other days and to which they dared not return. each day they worked several hours in their gold-hunting, and then one of them would take his gun and go in search of game, while the other would do the chores about their cabin. it was upon one of these hunting expeditions one day that andrew seldon found himself belated from having pursued his game much farther than he had thought. it was some miles back to camp and the sun had long since ceased to send its rays down into the depths of the mighty chasm of the grand cañon. he started back, with his game swung up on his back, and the shadows rapidly deepening about him. as he neared his old destroyed home he stopped suddenly, for across the cañon a light flashed before his gaze. "it is a firelight as sure as i live," he muttered. "what does it, what can it, mean?" he stood like one dazed by the sight for some time, and then slowly fell from his lips the words: "it can mean but one thing--_that some one has come into the cañon_." after a moment more of silent thought he said almost cheerily: "ah! it is lucas." but again his voice changed as he added: "no, he dreads the spot where he was so nearly buried alive and will not go there. whoever it is, he is a stranger. i must know, for if they have come here to remain, if they are our foes we will be forewarned and hence forearmed. "i will at once solve the mystery, for i had hoped never to behold a human face here other than lucas langley's and my own," and the gold-hunter walked away in the direction of the firelight which had so startled him. he went cautiously, for he knew well the danger if he was discovered, and the builders of the camp-fire proved to be foes. he knew the locality well, and that he could approach within a hundred yards of the fire, and discover just what there was to be seen. arriving within an eighth of a mile of the spot he halted, laid aside his game and rifle, and then moved forward from rock to rock, tree to tree, armed only with his revolvers. he now saw that there were three fires, two near together and one a couple of hundred feet apart and off to itself. the scene of the camp was a small cañon near his old home and on the trail leading to it. there was gold in the cañon, for he had discovered it there and taken some away, while he had marked it as his claim, it having been already staked as one of the finds and claims of the real andrew seldon. in truth, there were a dozen such claims in the grand cañon found by andrew seldon, all of them paying finds. having reached a point within a hundred yards of the camp-fires, seldon leaned over a rock and began to survey the scene. the three fires were burning brightly, and beyond the light fell upon a number of horses corralled in the cañon, where there was grass and water. there were brush shelters near, three in number, and about the fires in front of them were gathered a number of men. counting them, andrew seldon found that there were eight in sight. there appeared to be no guard kept, and the camp was certainly not a very new one, apparently having been made there several weeks before. emboldened by his discovery, the gold-hunter crept nearer and nearer, and then could see that the men were all masked. this struck him as being a very remarkable circumstance, indeed, since they were clad like miners, some of them wearing beards that came below their masks. all were armed thoroughly. they were eating their supper as andrew seldon looked at them. gaining a point of observation still nearer, the gold-hunter obtained a view of the camp-fire apart from the others. a comfortable little cabin was just behind the fire, and a rustic bench had been made near it. a blanket hung over the door of the tiny cabin, and about the fire was the evidence of a supper recently eaten, for a cup, tin plate, and knives, with the remains of a meal, were upon a rock that served as a table. upon the rustic seat sat one whose presence there was a great surprise to andrew seldon. "by heaven, it is a woman!" he almost cried aloud in his amazement. then he determined to get a still nearer view, and after surveying the position, he decided that he could do so by passing around to the edge of the cliff and creeping along it to a point not sixty feet away. as he, after very cautious work, reached the point he sought, some forty feet from the one at the camp-fire, gazing upon her he muttered to himself: "it is a young and beautiful girl, and why is she here with those strange men? who is she, and what is this mystery? i must solve it." he noted that the single fire was just around a bend of the cañon, and that the men were camped below her. "this looks as though she was a prisoner. but how did they find this spot, and how dare they venture down that dangerous trail? "well, andrew seldon the real did it, i did it, lucas langley also, and buffalo bill and the comrade with him were two more to make the venture, so why not these men? "but why are they masked, and what does it mean that they have that young girl in their midst? beyond doubt she is a captive, and yet i dare not communicate with her. it would betray my presence and i would lose all, perhaps my life. "they do not know of my presence here in the grand cañon, and they will hardly find our camp, at least as long as they find gold where they are. well, i will return to my home and tell langley of my strange discovery." after so musing, and gazing the while at the girl, andrew seldon was about to leave his position, when he saw a horseman ride into the lower camp. the horse seemed to have been hard ridden, for he came in with lowered head, and that the newcomer was in authority there was shown by the men rising as he approached the fire, while one of them took care of his horse. "i will see what this arrival means," muttered andrew seldon, and he kept his position among the rocks. chapter xxv. the outlaw lover. the man who had ridden into camp gave some order, which andrew seldon could not hear, and one of those about the camp-fire at once set about preparing supper for him. there was upon his face a red mask, much as the others wore, but he was dressed in somewhat better style than they, wearing cavalry-boots instead of heavy ones such as his men had on, while his body dress was a velvet jacket. his hat was a slouch, encircled by a silver cord representing a snake, as the gold-hunter discovered, when he afterward got a closer view of him. he talked to his men for a few minutes, but what he said the gold-hunter was unable to hear. then he walked away in the direction of the other fire. "now i can know what this means," muttered andrew seldon eagerly. the young girl had certainly seen the man arrive in camp, but she had shown no interest apparently in his coming, and now, as he approached, she calmly remained seated, her eyes, however, following his movements. as he drew near he politely raised his sombrero and said: "i hope i find miss seldon well?" "seldon! she bears the name i now am masquerading under," muttered the gold-hunter in intense surprise. "miss seldon is as well as could be expected under the existing circumstances, of being the captive of a band of cutthroats," was the cutting reply, and the listening man, who heard all, opened wide his eyes. "you are harsh in your terms, miss seldon." "are you not road-agents, robbers, and murderers, and are you not holding me here for ransom, after having robbed me of a large sum in my keeping?" "yes, such is the case." "then why wince under the name of cutthroat? but you have been away for some days." "i have." "you have seen your chief?" "i have." "and what message does he send?" "you are to go with me at dawn to the rendezvous on the overland trail, where you are to be given over to the one sent by the miners of last chance to pay your ransom." "i am glad of this; but will your chief keep faith, or will he play the traitor for a third time and escape giving me up through some trick?" "no, for if he did he would surely be run down, as he knows, by the miners, even if your life was the forfeit." "i hope it may prove true that i am to be ransomed, and i will be ready to go with you; but where is your chief?" "he is in his other camp." "then he has two?" "yes." "am i to be blindfolded and bound again when you are taking me from here?" "such are his orders, miss seldon." "he fears that i, a young girl, may lead a force upon his secret retreat?" "that is just what he fears, miss seldon." "i only wish i _was_ able to do so." "miss seldon, may i speak a word to you?" suddenly said the masked outlaw, drawing nearer. "i believe there is no more to say, for i will be ready at the hour you desire to start." "there is more to say, and say it i will. i wish to tell you that i have been a very wicked man, that i went to the bad when hardly out of my teens, broke my mother's heart by my evil life, and ruined my father financially, driving him to suicide in his despair. "i came west and tried to redeem the past by becoming an honest miner; but luck went against me, and i at last turned once more to evil and found a band of outlaws. money came to me in plenty, and at last i drifted into the band that our chief commands, and, as you know, i am his lieutenant. "he found this mine and sent us here to work it and have our retreat here also. much gold is coming to us through our work, and also by our holding up the coaches on the last chance trail, for he posts us where to be on hand for an attack, as we have what we call the post-office half-way between our camp and his. "when he made you a prisoner i felt for you, and, as i was the one to hold you captive and bring you here, i grew more and more fond of you until now i must, i will tell you, that i love you with my whole heart and soul, celeste seldon." the young girl had not moved during the time that the outlaw lieutenant was speaking, but now, when he proclaimed his love for her, she arose, drew herself up, and said haughtily: "and i, celeste seldon, abhor such love as you, an outlaw, would feel for me, and command you not again to speak one word to me while i am in the hateful atmosphere of your presence as your prisoner." chapter xxvi. the secret out. "celeste seldon! it was _her_ name--_his_ daughter's name, and yet the letter said that she was dead! is this a coincidence, or is she alive, and is this young girl the child of andrew seldon the real?" so mused andrew seldon the impersonator, as he crouched among the rocks, his eyes riveted upon the girl not fifty feet from him, and who so boldly faced the outlaw officer who had dared breathe to her a word of love. the outlaw stood abashed at the manner in which his avowal of love had been received. there was no anger in his look, and he seemed hurt rather than offended. after celeste seldon's indignant response to him he half-turned away, as though to retire in silence, but then reconsidered his determination and said in a low tone full of feeling: "pardon me, for i did wrong to think for a moment that an angel would look kindly upon a devil. i love you, and i could not but tell you of it, for you had decided me as to my own course, you had made me see my evil life as it is in all its enormity, and decide to make another struggle to go back to honor and truth." "this, at least, you deserve credit for, and i trust you may carry out your resolve, for in that you shall have my full sympathy." "thank you, miss seldon; but i have something more to say to you." "well, sir?" "you are to be given up by the chief on the payment of your ransom." "yes." "i wish i could prevent this robbery, but i cannot, as it is simply beyond my power to do so." "i do not ask it of you." "granted; but your being returned will not end it all." "how do you mean?" "you came here for an avowed purpose, as i understand it." "i did, mr. wolf." "that purpose was to find one who had come west on a special mission." "granted again." "his mission was to find your father, andrew seldon." the listener crouching among the rocks started at this and set his teeth hard, while he awaited the reply of the young girl. "yes; he came to find my father, andrew seldon, who, i had reason to believe, was in the mining-country about here." "you have not heard of the young man who came at your bidding?" "let me say that he came of his own accord, knowing that a great wrong had been done my father by one whom he believed his dearest friend. he came to find him and tell him all the sad truth; but why am i telling _you_ this?" "because you know that i am interested, that i can aid you." "can you?" was the eager reply. "i can." "do so, and----" "and what?" "i will reward you--generously." "i seek no reward, ask for none, would not accept any pay at your hands, other than to earn your good opinion and gratitude." "well, sir?" said celeste seldon coolly. "have you found your father?" "no, i regret to say i have not; but i was interrupted in my search by being captured by your robber chief." "do you know what became of the young man who came west in search of him?" "i had a letter mailed at w---from him, stating that he had heard of people at last chance who might tell him of my father, and that he was going there, and would at once communicate with me. "i had no other letter, and my communications remained unanswered, even my telegrams wired to santa fé and mailed there brought no response. then i decided to come out here myself, and i acted promptly." "and you have not found the one you seek?" "i have discovered that the coach in which he left w---was held up by your band, that he was wounded, and that though he was placed under the care of one known as doctor dick, a surgeon, though his life was saved, his reason was gone, and now he is wandering about the mines of last chance, a harmless lunatic." "he was until lately." "what do you mean?" "i mean that he was kidnaped several days ago." "kidnaped?" "yes, miss seldon." "for what purpose?" "ransom." "by whom?" "my chief." "ah! but what ransom can he get from him?" "i believe you told the chief that you were rich, and this poor fellow is your messenger." "i think i understand." "yes, you will be returned, and then negotiations will be entered into for your messenger's ransom." "ah! i am to be still further robbed?" said celeste, with a sneer. "yes, and that is not the end," came the significant reply. there was something in the response of the outlaw officer that impressed the young girl most strangely. what more could there be in store for her than she had already passed through, which caused him to say that the end was not yet? the listener among the rocks kept his eyes riveted upon the two, his ears turned to catch every word they uttered. he now knew that the letter he had received, telling him, as andrew seldon, that celeste, the daughter, was dead, was false, and a fraud perpetrated for some reason upon the absent miner. "you say that the ransom of bernard brandon will not be the end?" asked celeste, after a moment of meditation. "it will not." "what else can there be?" "a great deal." "what do you mean?" "there will be a _third demand_." "how?" "upon you." "for what?" "gold." "by whom?" "the chief." "what will the demand be for?" "i'll tell you the truth, as i happen to know it, or, rather, suspect it, from what i do know, have seen, and heard." "i hope that you will act squarely with me, mr. wolf." "upon my life, i will, and though i cannot help you now, must even appear to be your foe, in the end i will help you and prove to be your friend." "i hope so." "you ask what this third demand will be?" "yes." "will you ransom bernard brandon?" "where is he?" "a fugitive." "where?" "he will be in this camp to-morrow." "ah! then i will see him?" "no; he will not arrive until after your departure." "i will await his coming." "that cannot be, for i have orders to start with you to be ransomed, and you are not supposed to know that he has been captured." "but you have told me so." "it was a confidential communication, and if you betray me i can render you no further service, for my usefulness will be gone; in fact, i would be put to death." "i will not betray you." "thank you, but let me say that brandon will be brought here, for two men now have him in charge, and are on the trail here." "yes." "you will be ransomed, and then go to last chance. there you will learn of brandon's mysterious disappearance, and a ransom will soon after be demanded for him." "yes." "you will pay it?" "of course i will." "then comes the third trial." "what is it?" "_you will be captured!_" "ah!" "it is true." "by whom?" "the masked chief of the cloven hoofs of the grand cañon of the colorado." "he will still hunt me down?" "he will." "being forewarned is being forearmed." "not in this case." "why so?" "he works in a most mysterious way, and do all you may you will be captured by him." "and another ransom demanded?" "yes." "and so he will continue to rob me of my gold." "in this case, the ransom will not be of gold." "i do not understand." "the ransom demanded _will be your hand in marriage_." celeste uttered a cry of alarm, and started back with a look of horror upon her beautiful face. chapter xxvii. the departure. the reply of the outlaw officer, telling what the third demand to be made upon celeste seldon would be, caused her face to pale and her lips quiver, while her eyes burned brightly with indignation. she stood for a moment in silence, and then asked: "do you mean that he will make this demand upon me?" "i mean that the demand will be made upon you by one who will enforce it." "who?" "that i cannot tell you, more i cannot say to you, yet i will relieve your anxiety by saying that i will protect you, cost whose life it may." "you?" "yes, if you are again captured, though, if i can prevent it, i will." "but if i am?" "it will end there, for then i will prove my reformation: i will protect you, and that poor fellow for whom you will have to pay ransom. when i do, i believe i will be able to return your gold, paid in ransom, to you again. "but, whether i do or not, you will go your way free, and brandon also, and i will prove that you have reformed me, that my loving you has made me a different man. now i cannot, will not say more; but remember that through all i will secretly be your friend, though openly appearing as your guard and enemy." "i thank you, and i will trust you," and stepping forward, celeste seldon held forth her hand. the man put forth his own, as though to grasp it, then hesitated, and said: "no, i will prove my reformation, my friendship, before i touch you with my crime-stained hand. i will call you at an early hour," and turning abruptly, the outlaw lover of celeste seldon walked away. resuming her seat, the young girl became lost in thought, while andrew seldon, as we shall still call him, after gazing at her for a few moments in silence, turned away from his hiding-place, and crept cautiously back to where he had left his game and rifle. he knew that his comrade would be most anxious about him, yet he determined to remain there for the night, and see the departure in the morning. he would then know just how many outlaws went with celeste seldon as a guard, and how many remained. so he made himself as comfortable as possible, and sank to sleep, to awake an hour before dawn and see the camp-fires burning brightly. creeping to the safest point of observation, from which he could retreat unseen after daylight, should any of the outlaws remain in their camp, he waited for developments. he had not long to wait before he saw a party approaching on horseback. there was one in the lead, and as he came within a few yards of where he lay, andrew seldon recognized the outlaw officer, wolf. he held a lariat in his hand that was attached to the bit of the horse following, and upon which was mounted celeste seldon. in the dim gray of early dawn, seldon saw that the eyes of celeste were blindfolded, and her hands rested in her lap, as though bound. behind her came, in single file, five outlaws, and like their leader, they were masked. bringing up the rear were a couple of packhorses well laden. the party passed on, and then andrew seldon turned his attention to the outlaw camp, in which several of the men had been left. having discovered this, seldon then crept cautiously back, picked up his rifle and game, and started off at a double-quick for his own camp, anxious to relieve his pard's anxiety regarding him, and to tell him all that he had discovered. a man of great endurance, he made a rapid run to his home, and did not feel it in the least. he found lucas langley just starting off on a search for him, and the welcome he received was a sincere one. "how glad i am to see you, pard seldon. surely you were not lost?" he said. "no, indeed; but have you any breakfast, for i am as ravenous as a wolf, as i went without dinner and supper yesterday, and did not delay to cook anything this morning." "you shall have something in a few minutes, so wash up, and i'll get it for you." "and then we must have a talk," said seldon, as he went down toward the little stream for a refreshing plunge-bath. "he has had an adventure of some kind, i am sure," muttered lucas langley, as he threw a fine steak upon the coals and put some fresh coffee in the pot. andrew seldon's bath greatly refreshed him, and he ate his breakfast quietly, after which he said: "we'll not go gold-hunting to-day, pard, for i have something to tell you." "i feel that you have seen some one in the grand cañon." "you are right. i have." "are they here to stay?" "yes, they think so." "who are they?" "they are masked men, outlaws, belonging, i feel sure, to the road-agent band i heard of when at w----." "they go masked in camp?" "they do." "how many?" "there are, i think, nearly a dozen of them." "tell me of them, and where they are." "they are camped in the blue-cliff cañon, near our old home, and are working the mine we marked as number two on our map." "they are here for gold, then?" "yes, gold-diggers in their idle moments, and at other times road-agents, making their retreat here, where they deem themselves safe." "they did not see you?" "no, indeed; but i got within fifty feet of one of their camp-fires, and where they had a captive." "ah! a prisoner?" "yes." "did you know him?" "it was a young girl." "the devils!" "that is what they are, indeed; but let me tell you just what i discovered, overheard, and saw." then andrew seldon told the story, and in lucas langley he found a most ready listener. "oh, that we could rescue that girl!" said langley, when he had heard all. "to make the attempt would be but to meet with signal failure now, lucas." "i fear so." "still, i will see that they are not left long to carry on their work of deviltry." "i am with you heart and soul." "i know that well, pard. but they will return the girl for the ransom demanded, and then they will get the amount they claim for the young man they spoke of." "yes." "this will take some days, and in that time i shall act." "you?" "yes, they will lay their plans to kidnap the girl from last chance, to carry out this scheme of the chief to have his third demand come in, and right there i shall thwart them." "but how can you?" "i will start to-night for fort faraway." "will you go there?" "yes." "you told me that there were reasons why you would not go anywhere among those who might recognize you." "it is different now, and necessity demands that i take the risk. i have changed greatly, for my long hair and beard, my glasses and other changes completely disguise me from what i was, and so i will go to fort faraway." "for what purpose?" "i wish to see buffalo bill, and place these facts before him, for we can tell him where to find the outlaws' secret retreat, and i believe that the girl and the young man can be saved and every member of the robber band captured." "it would be a grand thing for you to do." "yes, it is just what i wish to do, to render some valuable service to the government." "when shall we start?" "i will start to-night, but you, pard, must remain here in possession of our mines." "as you wish, pard; but will you be gone long?" "not a day longer than is necessary, pard." "well, success go with you," was lucas langley's response, and the two men began to make preparations for the start of the one with information of where the retreat of the outlaw band could be found. andrew seldon did not care to take a packhorse, for he wished to make all the time possible, and when the sun went down he was ready for the trail, and, with lucas langley accompanying him, he started down the cañon to steal by the robbers' camp. chapter xxviii. the lone trail. well supplied with food and ammunition, having plenty of blankets along, for the nights were cold, and mounted upon the best one of their horses, andrew seldon felt ready to cope with whatever he might have to encounter in the way of hardships and dangers. mufflers had been prepared for the hoofs of his horse, that he might leave no trail and make no sound in passing the robber camp, while a muzzle was carried for the nose of the animal, to prevent his neighing and thus betraying his presence to foes. after crossing the narrow ridge, the mufflers and muzzle were tied on, and the two men stole along, leading the horse, until they came in sight of the camp-fires. only two were burning now, and about them only a few men were visible. the two men slipped by unseen with their horse, some eighth of a mile distant from the camp, and having seen his pard to safety, lucas langley bade him farewell, with many good wishes for his success, and started upon his return. mounting then, andrew seldon set off on his lonely and perilous mission. he ascended the hazardous trail, stripped his horse of his trappings upon reaching the deadly cliff which he had to pass around, and got safely by with the animal. then he brought his saddle and trappings around, led the horse to the top of the cañon rim, and, mounting, set off for fort faraway, taking the trail that must lead him by the deserted camp where he had killed black-heart bill in a duel, and where the desperado rested in his grave after his tumultuous life of evil. by rapid riding he reached the deserted camp soon after midnight, and, dismounting, prepared to go into camp. there was the best of water and grass there, and, to be merciful to his horse, andrew seldon did not allow his own feelings to cause him to camp elsewhere when the animal would be the sufferer. having watered his horse and staked him out to feed, he sat down upon a log near the wickiup and ate his cold supper quietly. then he lighted his pipe and began to smoke with a strange calmness of mien, when it is remembered that there, within a few yards of him, at the base of the quaking aspen whose white trunk looked ghostly in the moonlight, was the grave of the man he had killed, the man who had been his boyhood friend, and afterward his bitterest foe. laying aside his pipe, he spread his blankets in the wickiup, and then walked quietly toward the quaking aspen. there was the mound that marked the last resting-place of hugh mayhew, whose deeds of wickedness had won for him the name of black-heart bill. what thoughts crowded upon him as he stood there gazing upon the little mound of earth, knowing that only a few feet below the surface the dead face of his one-time friend was upturned toward him, who can tell? for some time he stood there, his arms folded upon his broad breast, and his head bowed. at last, a sigh found its way between his set teeth, and he turned away. reaching the wickiup, he paused, and mused aloud: "well, i am making a bold venture to dare go to the fort from which i fled on the day appointed for my execution, fled to live on here in the wilderness, believed to be dead, yet living, my own name cast aside, and living under that of one i never knew in life. "how strange this life is, its bitterness, sorrows, realities, and romance, and how strange, indeed, has been my career. well, what will the end be, i wonder? "i am taking my life in my hands to venture to the fort, but i must save that poor girl, run down those outlaws, and i can only do it through buffalo bill. now to turn in, for i must get some rest, and will, even in this weird spot." chapter xxix. to welcome the fair guest. the miners of last chance were too much excited over the expected ransom of celeste seldon, and the thought of soon having a young and beautiful girl in the mining-camps, to devote themselves to steady work, after the situation was known to them. then, too, they were greatly disturbed at the mysterious disappearance of bernard brandon, the young man whose mind had been destroyed by his wound, and which they could not comprehend, for not the slightest trace had been found of him, with all their searching. the fact that they had been robbed, and also celeste seldon, was another disturbing element, and so it was that little work was done in the mines during the time following harding's arrival and the day set for doctor dick to go out with the ransom money for the young girl whom they all so longed to welcome in their frontier home. landlord larry had set the example of having things spruced up for her coming, and the miners had quickly followed his example, having put their cabins in better condition. a cabin which the landlord was having built for his own especial use, apart from the hotel, was hastened to completion, and then the very best the hotel could supply was put in it as furniture and to make it attractive to the fair visitor, who was to be regarded as the guest of last chance. at last, the eventful day arrived for the ransom to be paid, and the miners had all taken a peep into the quarters of celeste seldon, to see how attractive it was. doctor dick had furnished a number of things, and the miners who had any pretty robes, or souvenirs, did likewise, until it would have been a callous heart, indeed, that would not be touched by their devotion to one whom they had never seen. the question of an attempt to capture the road-agents had been fully discussed, but dismissed upon the advice of landlord larry, doctor dick, and harding, who represented the danger that the girl would be in, at the hands of the merciless masked chief. that doctor dick was the right man to send out with the ransom all felt assured, for if there was any trickery on the part of the road-agents, he was the one to meet it. doctor dick had even offered to go out upon horseback alone, but it was thought best that the coach should be sent for the visitor, and harding should drive, he having met her. the miners, however, arranged to meet her with a delegation at the entrance to the valley, and escort her to the hotel. every man was to be dressed in his best, and, in honor of the occasion, the saloons were to be all closed. when, at last, the day arrived, harding mounted his box and gathered up his reins, doctor dick following to a seat by his side a moment after. the bag containing the gold to be paid in ransom was placed between their feet, landlord larry gave the word to go, and the coach rolled away at a rapid pace, followed by the wildest cheering. the doctor was fixed up in his most magnificent attire. his jewels shone with more than accustomed luster, and there was an expression upon his face that boded no good for the road-agents if they meant treachery in their dealings. harding was also rigged out in his finest, and wore a pleased look at the prospect of meeting celeste again, upon whom he considered that he held a special claim, and yet, underlying all, was an anxiety that some hitch might occur in gaining her release that would destroy all prospect of seeing her. the coach had been cleaned up to look its best, and a united states flag floated from a staff fastened upon the rear. the harnesses had been burnished up, and red, white, and blue streamers had been attached to the bridles, so that the whole outfit presented a very gorgeous appearance, and one intended to impress the beholder with the grandeur of the occasion. and so it was that doctor dick went out with the ransom for celeste seldon, with harding proud at holding the reins over the picked team that would take her back to last chance. "well, doctor dick, what do you think of our chances?" asked harding, when the coach had turned out of the valley and was fairly started upon the trail to the meeting with the masked road-agent chief. "how do you mean our chances, harding?" "to get the young lady?" "you were the one to make the terms." "true, and i fear treachery." "what chance is there for it?" "we have the money." "yes." "we are but two." "very true." "they have the captive." "yes." "and they can bring many against us." "also very true, harding." "now, if the chief means treachery, and has his men there, he can hold us up, get the ransom money, still keep possession of the girl, and there it is." "he might do so; but i hardly believe we need submit to even half a dozen outlaws, where so much is at stake." "i'm with you, doc, in whatever you say do." "i know that, pard harding; but there is another way to look at this affair." "how is that?" "if those road-agents were treacherous, as you seem to fear, it would end in their utter annihilation." "how so, doc?" "why, the miners would send the alarm to w---and to fort faraway, and we would have that splendid fellow, buffalo bill, leading a column of soldiers on the hunt for them from one point, another force would push out from w----, and a couple of hundred miners from last chance, and every outlaw in this part of the country would be caught and hanged." "i believe you are right, doc. i had not thought of the result of treachery on their part, for they would get the worst of it; no, i guess all will go well." "i think so, and hope so sincerely," answered doctor dick, and the coach rolled on in silence for some time, when harding asked: "what do you think of brandon's disappearance, doctor?" "i hardly know what to think, unless he has fallen from some precipice and killed himself." "i guess that is it; but now let me give you a warning, doc." "of what?" "that young girl." "what have i to fear, pard?" "if you don't fall in love with her, you are a different man from what i take you to be." "you have been caught, i see." "yes, i'm gone, clean gone; but i guess that is all the good it will do me, for i suppose her lover is that poor fellow brandon." "you only think her lovely just because she is the only woman you have seen on the frontier. she is doubtless as ugly as an old maid." "just wait and see her, and then say which of us is wrong," said harding, with a confident smile. as the coach turned around a cliff, neither doctor dick nor harding saw that there was a man standing among the piñons watching them. he had, from his position, been able to see the coach a mile away, as it wound along the valley, and he had watched it as it approached with seemingly the deepest interest. he stood erect, like a soldier on duty, one hand resting upon a repeating rifle, the other grasping a field-glass, which he had occasionally raised to his eyes and viewed the coming stage. he stood like a sentinel, and had been there for an hour or more before the coach rolled into view. a glance was sufficient to show that the silent sentinel on the cliff was none other than buffalo bill, the chief of scouts. he was dressed as was his wont, and back from the cliff a couple of hundred yards, grazing upon the ridge, was his horse. but, strangest of all, the scout-sentinel did not hail the coach, did not make his presence known, but allowed it to roll by, himself unseen, as though he wished to keep the fact of his being there a secret, even from doctor dick and harding, his ally and spy. chapter xxx. at the rendezvous. as the coach drew near the rendezvous appointed by the masked road-agent chief, at the dead line, harding breathed hard with suppressed emotion. he had really fallen in love with the beautiful girl, whom he felt he was in a manner the protector of, and he was most anxious as to the result. aside from his regard for celeste seldon, her unprotected condition would have won his deepest sympathy under any circumstances. doctor dick, on the other hand, was calm and silent. he had the money demanded, and he had come to do his duty, but was prepared to face all emergencies that might arise. at last the scene of the tragedies came in view, the cross erected at the dead line was just before them, and then harding grasped the reins, expecting a summons to halt. no one was visible in the pass, but that was no sign that there was no one there, as harding and doctor dick well knew. just as the leaders reached the cross, a voice called out: "halt!" hard went the foot of the driver upon the brake, and his hands pulled the team to a sudden stop. doctor dick instinctively dropped his hand upon his revolver, but removed it instantly, and calmly awaited the issue. the coach having halted, the same voice called out: "is there any one inside the coach?" "no one," answered harding. "if you lie to me, harding, your life will be the forfeit." "all right, so be it, sir; but doctor dick and i are all that came." "who is following you?" "no one." "did none of the miners come out from last chance?" "not one." "you are sure?" "i am." "if we are attacked, both you and doctor dick shall die, and if the force is large enough to press me hard, i shall kill the girl." "you need have no fear of an attack; but i only wish we dared make the attempt, for i would like to see every one of you hanged." a laugh greeted this remark of the driver, and once again the unseen road-agent called out: "did you bring the gold?" "did you bring the young lady?" "answer my question, harding." "you answer mine." "i will reply when i have had an answer." "if you brought the young lady, as you pledged yourself to do, you can get the ransom money; but if you did not, you will have to fight to get it." "that is our trade; but the young lady is here." "then get her out of your vile company as quickly as possible." "where is the money?" before harding could reply, doctor dick said sternly: "a truce to this nonsensical parleying. i have the money, and will pay it over when the young lady is given into my charge, but not before. where is she?" the road-agent seemed impressed by the stern words of doctor dick, and responded: "i will go and fetch her, while you turn your coach around." this harding at once did, and coming to a halt again, doctor dick got down from the box, and the bag of gold was handed to him by harding. there was a wait of a few minutes, and then out from among the pines in the pass came a man, followed by celeste seldon, a few feet behind him. as she approached the spot, she waved her hand to harding, and said pleasantly: "we meet again, my good friend." "and mighty glad am i that we do, miss. permit me to introduce to you the boss man of last chance, doctor dick, and he is here with the money to pay your ransom." doctor dick doffed his sombrero, bowed low, and then stepped forward, as celeste held out her hand to him, and said in his courtly way: "i am happy in meeting miss seldon and receiving her in the name of the miners of last chance." the outlaw who accompanied celeste was masked completely, and his form enveloped in a black robe that effectually concealed it. he stepped toward doctor dick, and said: "you, sir, have the ransom money for the return of this young lady?" "i have gold amounting to the sum demanded." "see here, doc, i don't see why we should be robbed by one man, so let us run him in, now we have the young lady, and we will not have to pay the gold," and harding suddenly covered the outlaw with his revolver. "no, no!" cried celeste. "that will never do." "no, harding, we must keep faith with him, even if he be a murderer and a thief. put up your gun," said doctor dick. the masked outlaw had not moved at the action of harding, but now said: "you wisely decide, doctor dick, for i am no fool to be caught in a trap, and i trust no man, so came prepared to meet treachery if it was intended, and this young lady will tell you that my men are within easy range, and you, harding, in covering me with your revolver, took big chances." "i didn't believe you would come alone, and we were fools to do so, for we could have fought it out right here," grumbled the driver, greatly disappointed at his not carrying out his suddenly determined upon plot. the road-agent then took the bag, opened it, ran over the gold like one who knew its value, and then said: "yes, there is the amount here, no more, no less. ask miss seldon if she has not been treated with marked respect." "i can but answer yes, for i have been; but am i not to have my trunk and side-saddle?" "oh, yes, certainly," and the road-agent gave a signal, which was promptly answered by two men appearing in the edge of the pines. they wore long black robes and red masks, also, and their appearance was proof that their leader had not come alone. "bring the baggage belonging to this lady, and her side-saddle and bridle, also," called out the leader. the men disappeared, and doctor dick asked: "do you expect to keep up your lawless acts much longer without meeting the fate you deserve, sir outlaw?" "yes, for the money i get is worth taking big chances for, doctor dick, and, gambler that you are, you never do a better day's work than what sum this gold calls for." "it is a long lane that has no turn, and the turn will come for you some day," said harding. a light laugh beneath the mask was the answer, and celeste seldon's face wore a clouded expression harding was not slow to observe. "then i am free to go, sir?" and celeste turned to the outlaw. "you are, miss seldon," was the answer. she turned to the coach, and doctor dick aided her into it, just as the two outlaws came up with the small leather trunk she had brought with her and her saddle and bridle. taking the back seat, celeste leaned up in one corner, as though fatigued, and her baggage having been put on top, dick and harding mounted to the box, the outlaws attentively regarding them through the eye-holes in their masks. "remember, pards, i still drive this trail," said the driver, with an air of defiance as he gathered up the reins. "i won't forget, harding; but i advise you to keep in mind the story of the pitcher that went once too often to the well, for right here some day you may meet your fate." "if i do, you will not find me flinch from it," was the plucky response, and the driver called to his horses, and the team moved on. looking back at the bend, the driver and doctor dick saw that the outlaws had already disappeared, while celeste seldon, gazing back also, noted the same fact, and murmured to herself: "what yet is before me, i wonder?" chapter xxxi. doctor dick tells the news. when the coach had got well away from the dead line, harding gave a deep sigh of relief, for the first time feeling that celeste was safe, and would not be retaken by the outlaws. "well, doc, she's safe now, and we didn't lose our scalps," he said. "it is a cause of congratulation all round, harding." "now, doctor dick, _you_ have got to tell the young lady about the poor crazy fellow." "did you not tell her?" "that his wound had crazed him, yes; but that is not the worst of it." "ah, yes, you mean that he has been captured?" "i cannot say that, doc; but he has mysteriously disappeared." "well, you wish me to break the news to her?" "i do, for i can't tell her what i know will hurt her, and it won't do for her to hear it from the men when she arrives in last chance." "i guess you are right, pard, so draw up, and i'll take a seat inside the coach, and tell her the news." "be very gentle, doc, for i have an idea she loves that young man." "i'll break it to her as gently as i can," was the response, and as harding drew rein a moment after, doctor dick sprang down from the box, and said: "may i ride with you, miss seldon?" "certainly, sir, if you desire." "i have something to talk to you about," said doctor dick, as he entered the coach and took the front seat. "i shall be glad to hear what you have to say, sir, and i desire now to thank you for your very great kindness toward me, while you risked your life in coming out here to serve me." "do not speak of it, miss seldon, for the miners all chipped in and made up a purse for your ransom, while they are now anxiously awaiting your coming to give you a right royal welcome, for you will be the first lady who ever came to our camp." "indeed! this will be an honor; but do you mean that there are none of my sex there?" "not one, only rough men, but with noble hearts many of them, so that you will be made to feel at once at home." "how odd it will be, yet i have no hesitancy in going there, i assure you," and celeste gazed into the face of the man before her with both interest and admiration. "he is strangely handsome, a manly fellow, brave, intelligent, yet a dangerous foe, and i wonder what has brought such a man as he to this far-away land?" ran her thoughts. "miss seldon, what i most wished to say to you i fear will deeply pain you," said doctor dick, after a pause. "let me hear it, sir, for i am becoming accustomed to being pained of late," and celeste was perfectly calm. "i was told by harding, the driver, that you were on your way to last chance, to look up a friend who had come here on a mission for you, and who you had feared was in trouble?" "yes, and my fears were realized when i learned that the coach in which he was a passenger had been held up, i believe that is what you call it, by road-agents, and mr. brandon was so severely wounded in the head that his brain was turned." "yes, but that is not all, miss seldon." "ah! what else is there to tell?" "he was under my care for a long while, and i did all that i could to restore his reason, except to perform an operation for his relief, which i feared to risk." "so mr. harding told me." "when his bodily health was restored he left my cabin and roamed about the camps up to a week ago, when he most mysteriously disappeared. we had all the miners out upon a search for him, did all in our power to find him, but in vain, and what his fate has been is only conjecture." "and what is that conjecture, doctor dick, for i believe you are so called?" "yes, i am known to all solely as doctor dick; but let me answer your question by replying that we believe the poor fellow has lost his life by falling over a cliff." "such is not the case, sir," was the reply that startled the doctor. "mr. brandon is now a captive of the road-agents." doctor dick gazed at celeste seldon in amazement. "do you know this, miss seldon, or is it only conjecture on your part?" he asked, when he had recovered from his surprise. he had come prepared to console, but, instead, had found the young girl cool and with apparently knowledge which he did not possess regarding the man whom harding had said he believed was her lover. "i know it, doctor dick." "may i ask how?" "i have just been a captive of the outlaws myself, and in coming here from their secret retreat we met two of the road-agents with a prisoner. the leader had some talk with them, but though i at once recognized mr. brandon, i was not allowed to speak with him." "did you request it?" "naturally." "but were refused?" "yes." "was any reason given?" "simply that i would not be allowed to, and, if i did, mr. brandon would not know me, as he was crazy, while they did not care to have me do so." "where was this, miss seldon?" "a short distance after we left their retreat." "could you lead the way to their retreat?" "no, for i was blindfolded and bound miles before reaching there." "the outlaw chief did this?" "he was not along, but it was done by his orders." "did you not speak to him of it?" "i have not seen him since." "why, was not that the chief who gave you over to me to-day?" "no, sir." "i certainly thought so." "it was his lieutenant, who took me to the retreat and back under his orders." "and where is the chief?" "at his other hiding-place, his men said." "you were well treated, i hope, miss seldon?" "with perfect respect and consideration, sir, i am happy to say, the only indignity being that i was blindfolded and had my hands bound in approaching and leaving the outlaw retreat; but i suppose that was necessary for the safety of the band." "you certainly take it most coolly." "why do otherwise, sir?" "do you know the motive of the road-agents in making that poor crazy fellow a prisoner?" "money." "how do you mean?" "they doubtless captured his baggage, and discovered by it papers that went to show that a big ransom would be paid for his release." "ah! they will demand a ransom for him, then?" "assuredly." "the miners will hardly pay it if it is a large sum." "i do not ask them to do so." "you do not?" "no." "who will pay it, then?" "i will." "you?" "certainly." "pardon me, but you are a young girl, and----" "a rich one, nevertheless, doctor dick. i sent mr. brandon to the west on this mission, and he has met with misfortune. i will pay the ransom demanded, take him east, and place him in the care of the most eminent surgeons, that they may aid him if it is possible. you, as a skilled surgeon, for such i have heard you were, might tell me what you deem the chances are for his recovery?" "miss seldon, the blow of that bullet caused an indenture of the skull, which might be operated upon and successfully raised so as to restore his reason. the chances are ninety-nine to a hundred against success, and only the most skilful surgeon and nervy one could accomplish it, if done." "thank you; the one chance in favor shall be taken, for without reason one might as well be dead--yes, far better." "and you will stand all this expense?" "certainly, for it is my intention to pay back to the miners every dollar they subscribed for my ransom, for, as i said, i have the means to do it, and far more." "you are a plucky woman, miss seldon; but see, we are approaching the valley now, and you must prepare for a welcome," and doctor dick called to harding to come to a halt. chapter xxxii. the miners' welcome. harding drew up promptly at the call of doctor dick. he had heard the voices of the two within the stage, yet not what was said, and he was anxious to know how celeste took the news of the disappearance of the man whom she had come to the wild western frontier to see. "do you mean that i shall mount to the box, sir?" asked celeste, in answer to what the doctor had said after the coach halted. "i do, miss seldon, for the men will wish to see you, and within ten minutes more we will be in the valley." "of course, i cannot refuse, sir," and celeste sprang out of the coach and mounted to the box, taking her seat by the side of harding, while doctor dick settled himself upon her trunk upon the top of the coach. "now, miss, we'll make 'em hum," said harding, and he cracked his whip in a way that sent the team along at a splendid pace. as they neared the turn into the valley, harding took a bugle, in lieu of a stage-horn, and played in a skilful manner the ringing notes of "annie laurie," intending the sentiment to apply to celeste, doctor dick from his perch the while taking the reins. the notes of the bugle ringing out, the touching air brought tears to the eyes of celeste seldon, who, however, was startled a moment after, as the stage came in sight of a hundred horsemen drawn up in two lines, one on either side of the trail. they were a wild, reckless-looking lot of rough riders, but the cheer they gave when they saw celeste on the box came from their hearts. their hats were doffed, and as the yells burst from their lips they closed in behind the coach, four abreast, and came dashing along as an escort. celeste waved her handkerchief vigorously, her beautiful face flushed to crimson and her lips quivering, her eyes swimming with the emotion that almost overwhelmed her. "three cheers for the lady of last chance," came in the deep voice of doctor dick, from the top of the coach, and they were given with savage earnestness. along dashed the coach, harding lashing his horses into a run and driving with marvelous skill, while behind them thundered the hundred horsemen, yelling like demons in their glad welcome to the first lady to visit their wild camp. celeste saw the cabins along the cañon valley, perched here and there upon the hills, and at last discovered the group of buildings that marked the settlement the miners were pleased to call the "city" of last chance. gathered there was a vast crowd of men, and when the stage came in sight, and three persons were seen on top, with the mounted escort hastening after, the yells of welcome began. the roar floated down the valley, and reached the ears of celeste seldon, and she muttered in a low tone: "how kind they all are. this is, indeed, a welcome to be proud of, and never can i forget it." "they mean it, miss," said harding and he felt just pride in his frontier home at the reception, and the manner in which celeste received it greatly pleased him. on flew the horses, and up the hill they dashed, to at last come to a halt before the hotel. the din was now terrific, for the voices of the horsemen joined in with the miners about the hotel, who, with one accord, drew their revolvers and began to empty them in the air. as there were hundreds of miners, and all were armed with a couple each of revolvers, the rattling of the fusillade may be imagined. celeste bowed right and left, waving her handkerchief, until landlord larry aided her to dismount and led her into the hotel, and the welcome was at an end. chapter xxxiii. the council. celeste seldon was not one to put on airs. she had been well reared, was refined, lovable by nature, plucky enough for a man, for she had the heart and will to do and dare anything where duty called, and yet she was as simple as a child by nature. she was deeply touched by the reception she had received, and, in glancing about, when she saw only a wild-looking set of men, rude log cabins, and an air of the far frontier pervading all, she knew that it was just what she must expect to see, and she at once adapted herself to circumstances. she was escorted by landlord larry to her cabin, harding himself bringing her trunk and another miner her saddle and bridle. the appearance of the cabin revealed to her at a glance how much had been done to make her comfortable, and she praised the neat quarters and expressed the greatest satisfaction in her surroundings. when she went over to the hotel to dinner, the whole crowd of miners there rose at her entrance, and every hat was doffed and placed beneath the bench on which the man sat, for hat-racks were not one of the luxuries of the last chance hotel, and a miner would as soon have thought of parting with his pistols as his head-covering. at his own table, where sat, besides himself, doctor dick and harding, landlord larry placed celeste seldon, and she was given the best the house afforded, and expressed herself as being treated far more kindly than she had had the slightest anticipation of. the meal concluded, celeste said that she would like to consult with the three she regarded as her immediate protectors, the landlord, doctor dick, and harding. so the three met her in the landlord's private office, and celeste at once said: "i wish first to thank all of my kind friends here, through you, gentlemen, for the very generous manner in which you have received and treated me here. i know that the ransom money demanded for my release was quickly raised by the people here, you three being particularly generous; but i desire to say that i have the money to pay you back, and will do so." "no, no, under no circumstances, miss seldon," said doctor dick eagerly, and the others chimed in with him. but celeste was firm in her determination, and said: "i have no claim upon you, and, besides, i am very well off, so i shall insist, and, landlord larry, i will give you a draft for the amount upon an eastern bank, and for more, as there will be another demand upon me, in the amount to ransom the one who came here for me, mr. bernard brandon." "but will you pay his ransom, miss seldon?" "why not, landlord larry?" "i think," said doctor dick, "that as you came to visit last chance, we, the dwellers here, should be responsible, and pay these ransoms." "so say i," put in harding quickly. "and i agree with you," added the landlord. "under no circumstances will i hear to it, for i will pay all, my own and the ransom of mr. brandon, so please send the draft through for the money, landlord larry, and while here i will take steps to find out all i can regarding my father, who was last heard of in this part of the country." "miss seldon, _i_ can tell you what you must know sooner or later about your father, who, let me say, was also my friend," said doctor dick. it seemed hard that, in the joy of her release from captivity in the hands of the outlaws, celeste seldon should feel the blow of knowing that the unfortunate bernard brandon had been captured and she would have to pay a ransom for him, while she also had to suffer still further in learning what was her father's fate, as told her by doctor dick. it had been a long time since she had seen her father, the last time when she was a little girl, and she remembered that he had left home under a cloud, and she had never expected to see him again. with her mother dead, and her father a fugitive wanderer, she had been sent by her guardian, left so by the wishes of her parents, to a northern school, and there had had no one upon whom to lean. at the words and tone of doctor dick, she nerved herself to bear the worst; and asked calmly: "what have you to tell me, doctor dick?" "of your father." "you knew him?" "yes, for, though my senior in years, we were devoted friends." "have you seen him since coming west?" "i have not; but let me tell you that, when on a scout with buffalo bill, the latter was rescued by a person who was alone, and on his way to w----. the scout had with him a prisoner, a deserter from the army and a murderer, who had been taken here in last chance, and he was taking him a prisoner to fort faraway, when he was attacked by a desperado by the name of headlight joe and his gang. "with his horse shot and falling upon him, buffalo bill would have been killed and his prisoner rescued, but for the coming of the horseman referred to, and who put the outlaws to flight. he gave the name of andrew seldon, said nothing as to why he was in that part of the country, or where he lived, and went on his way. "when i came up with buffalo bill, and heard his story of his rescue, and the name of his rescuer, it at once recalled my old-time friend, and, with the scout as my companion, we later sought to find him. we trailed him to his home, where he had dwelt with one other comrade." "and where was that, sir?" "in the grand cañon of the colorado, miss seldon." "and you found him?" eagerly asked celeste, while the landlord and harding gazed at her with deepest sympathy at what they felt she must hear. "we found his house, or, rather, the wreck of it, for, mining under a cliff a thousand feet in height, it had caved in upon them, burying them beneath a mountain of red sandstone." celeste shuddered and covered her face with her hands, but very quickly regained her composure, and said: "are you sure that my father was in the mine when it caved in?" "i am very sure, miss seldon, that both he and his comrade were. we, the scout and myself, were camped in the cañon, and heard the cave-in, and it felt like a mighty earthquake, and was at night. "we made a thorough search the next day, but could not find any trace of a human being, and their horses shared the same fate, with a dog, also, which we heard barking that same night. yes, there is no doubt of your father's fate." "i thank you, doctor dick, for your telling me all; but i must see buffalo bill, the famous scout, and ask him to guide me to the fatal spot, the scene of my father's lone life in these wilds, and of his death," said celeste, in a low tone that revealed how deeply she felt her father's fate. chapter xxxiv. a metamorphosis. when harding met with old huckleberry, the stage-driver, who had so mysteriously disappeared, and whose fate was a mystery to the miners of last chance, that old worthy saw the coach drive on its way while he regarded its departure with the complacency of one not afraid to be left alone, and fully capable of taking care of himself. he stood for some time in silent meditation, after the coach had disappeared, and then, shouldering his rifle, struck off over the mountains, with an evident purpose in view. a walk of some ten miles brought him to a secluded nook in the mountains, a perfect basin a dozen acres in size, heavily wooded, with plenty of grass and water. a narrow pass, not twenty feet in width, was the only entrance to the basin, and this was securely fastened up with long poles. over this old huckleberry clambered, and as he walked into the basin, a couple of horses feeding there greeted him with a welcoming neigh. in the farther end, among the pines, was a brush cabin, and in it were blankets and a camping-outfit, with saddle, pack-saddle, and bridles. old huckleberry proceeded to build a fire and cook dinner, after which he caught one of his horses, saddled him, and strapped on some blankets and a bag of provisions. leading the horse out of the basin, he replaced the barrier securely, so that the other animal could not get out, and, mounting, started off for the fort. as he rode alone, he muttered to himself: "i can do nothing alone, i feel certain, and by this time the one man whose aid i can best depend upon is at the fort, and he will gladly return with me." pressing on at a steady gait, he did not halt until some time after nightfall, and then built no fire, but ate a cold supper, staked his horse out, rolled up in his blankets, and was soon fast asleep. he rose early, and the coming of day found him several miles on his way from his night camp. about eight o'clock he halted, built a fire, broiled the steak of an antelope he had killed, some crackers and bacon, his horse faring well on the grass near-by. a rest of an hour and a half, and he was again in the saddle, keeping up the same steady gait until noon, when another halt was made for a couple of hours. on through the afternoon he urged his horse once more, halting only after nightfall. two hours before daybreak he was in the saddle, and now his horse was pushed more rapidly forward, as though a long rest lay not very far ahead. it was two hours before noon when the worn-out horse pricked up his ears as he saw a flag fluttering in the skies a mile ahead. in through the stockade gate of fort faraway rode old huckleberry, and he asked to be at once taken to the quarters of the commanding officer. major randall surveyed the old fellow keenly, and said pleasantly: "well, old man, what can i do for you?" "i'll tell yer, pard, soon as i sees ef thet gent in sojer clothes ain't goin' ter speak ter a old friend," and old huck looked over to an officer who was talking to major randall when he entered. the man wore a fatigue uniform, and his shoulder-straps bore the rank of a captain, with the insignia of a surgeon of cavalry. he was tall, erect, had broad shoulders, and was of powerful build, while, strange to say for an officer, he wore his black hair long and falling in heavy masses down his back. his face was full of decision, courage, and intelligence, and handsome, as well, and in his dark, piercing eyes there was a strange mixture of gentleness and a fiery nature combined. in a voice strangely musical for a man's, he said, as he arose: "my dear old pard, am i so remiss as to forget the face of a friend, for, though i see that it is familiar, i cannot just place you." "now, pard doc, i thinks that ain't jist squar' ter fergit a old friend," said old huckleberry, while major randall said: "he certainly knows you well, major powell." "and i knows major randall well, too; but as you don't seem ter git onter jist who i is gents, i'll tell yer by taking off my wig and specs--see!" the wig, or shock, rather, of long gray hair was removed, the spectacles taken off, and the face of buffalo bill was revealed to the astonished gaze of major randall and surgeon powell, who both uttered an exclamation of amazement, and then burst out into hearty laughter, at the metamorphosis of old huckleberry into the noted chief of scouts. "well, cody, what does this masquerading mean?" cried major randall, after he and surgeon powell had shaken hands with the scout. "it is a part of a plot, major, for i have been driving stage," answered the scout. "driving stage?" "yes, sir, i took the semimonthly coach running from w---to last chance, after the road-agents had killed benton and dockery, and no one cared to drive the run, unless it was doctor dick, the gold-gambler of last chance." "did he take the coach through, cody?" "oh, yes, sir, he is not a man to scare, and he drove several runs; but then his professional duties as gambler and doctor kept him busy, and i rigged up as old huckleberry, and drove the runs, to see what i could find out." "and what did you find out?" "i believe i discovered sufficient, sir, to stretch several ropes with human weights." "that means you are on the right trail to bag those road-agents?" "yes, sir." "they appear to be well handled?" "they are, sir, for their chief is a man of remarkable pluck, cunning, and skill, and he handles them in a masterly manner." "who is he?" "i do not believe his own men could tell you, sir, for he goes masked and robed in black, even covering up his horse from ears to tail." "that is strange." "it is the safest plan, sir." "and who is driving now?" "harding, sir, the ex-soldier, and whom, i may confidentially say, major, i have taken into my service, not as a scout, but as a spy, at last chance." "a fine fellow, but i fear he will be killed as driver on that trail." "i hope not, sir, and he has escaped splendidly through great dangers thus far." "well, what will be your plans now?" "i have been hanging on the trail, sir, since my mysterious disappearance as old huckleberry, and have been hovering about the death line, taking notes and seeing what i could discover. i have a camp in a basin in the mountain range, and there i left my packhorse and outfit while i came here." "you have something to report to me, then?" "no, sir, not particularly, though i came for a purpose." "and that purpose, cody?" "i was aware, sir, that surgeon frank powell was coming to the fort, to relieve doctor dey, and that his duties as surgeon would not begin for some weeks yet. as we have been on so many scouting-expeditions together, and doctor powell is a regiment in himself, i wanted him to go back with me and unearth these road-agents, following their trail to the very end." "you could have no one better. what do you say, powell?" "how could i refuse, major, after bill's most flattering remarks about what i can do, and which prove he has irish blood in his veins." "ah! i knew that you would go, frank," responded cody. "of course, i will, and am ready when you say the word, only i must ask major randall for a leave, should we not accomplish our purpose before i am ordered for duty here." "that will be all right, powell. when will you start, cody, for doctor powell will have to first relieve doctor dey, as that would be the best plan, and then go, leaving his assistant surgeon in charge." "it is for you to decide, major." "very well, say in just ten days from now." "all right, sir; but, after a couple of days' rest, i had better return to my basin camp, and be on the watch, and i can tell surgeon powell just where i will meet him upon a certain date." "you know best, cody; but do not venture much until powell joins you, for well i know what a team you two make together." "i feel certain, sir, that together we can run down these masked marauders," was the confident reply of buffalo bill, and when he went to his quarters, soon after, surgeon powell accompanied him, for the two were the closest of friends. chapter xxxv. the driver's letter. after several days' stay at the fort, buffalo bill started upon his return to his secret camp near last chance trail. he took with him another packhorse, well laden with bedding and supplies, for the weather was growing steadily colder and winter would soon be upon the land. he knew that little snow generally fell as far down as the last chance trail, but it would be well to be prepared for any emergency, and as the coaches ran through the winter, the road-agents would by no means take a rest. riding leisurely on the back trail, not caring to push his horses too hard, buffalo bill reached his basin camp in the mountains on the third day, and the animal he left there pranced like a colt at seeing him come back. his first work was to make his quarters more secure and comfortable, and this took him a day, and the following, having strengthened the barrier in the pass, to prevent his horses from breaking out, he started off on foot for the w---and last chance stage-trail. he would not ride, as he did not wish his trail to be seen by any prowling road-agents, and on foot he could accomplish more and be concealed far better than if he had gone mounted. before parting with surgeon frank powell at the fort, buffalo bill had drawn a map of the country, marking the trail the surgeon-scout was to follow, and also just where he was to meet him, the place of rendezvous being the deserted camp where was the grave of black-heart bill. when buffalo bill approached the trail, at the scene of the dead line tragedies, he went most cautiously. but no one was there, and going up to the little cross, the scout bent over and thrust his hand into the spot where, as old huckleberry, he had his "post-office" with harding. he took out a slip of paper, and read it with clouded brow. it was as follows: "i slip away at night from last chance to leave this here for you. it was unfortunate that you should have had to go to the fort when you did, as on my run back i was held up here by the agents. "i had taken your advice, and pressed through the other end at night, thus escaping men lying in wait for me. "on my return i had a young lady passenger, a miss celeste seldon, coming out here to find her father, a miner, and a young man whom she had sent in search of him. it was the young man i told you of who had been wounded and had never regained his reason. "i had a large sum of money, which was taken, and miss seldon was carried off as a captive, to be held for ransom. "the miners have subscribed the ransom money, and she is to be released. i will let you know particulars more fully as soon as i get the opportunity, endeavoring to have a letter here for you when i come to make the exchange, paying the ransom and receiving the lady from the outlaws. "doctor dick will come with me; but the outlaws threaten to kill miss seldon if others come, or if any one else leaves last chance to pursue them, and that chief will keep his word. harding." then there followed a postscript, which read: "the young messenger, bernard brandon, has most mysteriously disappeared, and no search can find him. "h." buffalo bill read this letter over twice, and said in a musing way: "those outlaws are becoming bold, indeed, when they deliberately rob a young girl and make her their prisoner. the man brandon was her messenger, sent in search of her father, and his mysterious disappearance, _to me_, means that he has been captured by the road-agents. "now, i dare not halt the coach on the way to receive the girl, if the road-agents give her up; but i will be on the watch, see it go by, and be as near this spot when the ransom is paid as i dare be, for from here i may be able to track those devils to their lair." so saying, the scout set out upon his return for his basin camp. chapter xxxvi. the scout on the watch. when buffalo bill returned from the dead line to his secret camp, it was to prepare himself for several days' absence from it, for his intention was to hang about the last chance trail, discovering all that it was in his power to do. he found a retreat upon a cliff, where there was a thicket of pines, giving him a view in both directions of the trail for a mile or more. he saw from there the coach coming to the rendezvous, with the ransom money for celeste seldon's release, and upon the box beside the driver was doctor dick. yet the scout did not know who might be inside the stage, so dared not make any sign of his presence. on went the coach, and buffalo bill at once started down from the cliff, and followed in its trail at an indian trot, which kept him well up with it, yet just out of sight. as he approached the dead line, he went more cautiously, and, reaching the entrance to the pass, made a flank movement and climbed to the top of the ridge. it was after continued search that he at last found a point of observation, and he risked his life by reaching a spot where he would be dashed to death, hundreds of feet below, should his foot slip or nerve fail him. from this spot, where he clung to a tree, he turned his field-glass down the pass, and could see the coach standing at the dead line, a quarter of a mile away. he saw that the coach had been turned to the right-about, the team being headed back for last chance, and doctor dick was standing near it, harding being still on the box and grasping the reins. watching, with every nerve strung, the scout saw the masked road-agent appear, and later the fair captive. then followed two other road-agents bearing the baggage of celeste seldon, and soon after the coach started upon its return. buffalo bill could not have reached a point to head it off had he tried, and he felt that he must still be cautious. but he was determined to reach the dead line and take up the trail from there, for certainly the road-agents had not allowed celeste seldon to walk to the scene of the exchange. after half an hour he gained a point just over the dead line, and from there saw that all was quiet. the outlaws had left, beyond all doubt. it was an hour before the scout could make his way around to the dead line, and there he felt in the little "post-office" for a letter from harding. but none was there. "he dared not attempt it," he muttered. then taking a leaf from his note-book, he wrote: "i am again on the trail. i saw the lady returned to you. i will take the outlaws' trail from here, and hope to track them to their lair. "in a few days, now, i will have the surgeon-scout with me in my work, so the end is not far away. "keep me posted as before, as i will you. "yours, b. b." this was placed in the receptacle near the cross, and, shouldering his rifle, buffalo bill set out to look for trails. it took him a long while to satisfy himself that he was on the right track, but at last he struck off at a lively step along a trail which only a man of his frontier skill could have discovered. after a walk of a mile he suddenly came upon a spot where there were the tracks of a horse visible. these he followed a mile farther, and the scout saw that the ground was trampled down, but not by hoofs. the track he had followed thus far had been that of one hoof only, showing that the other three had been muffled, but one had lost its covering. the trampled grass and ground revealed that the horses had been left there, and all had had their hoofs muffled in some way. but the keen eyes of the scout picked up the trail, and he followed it quite rapidly until he came to a small stream. "there were eight horses along, as their tracks show here, but how many men i do not know. when they have gone some miles farther they will remove the muffles from their horses' hoofs, and then the trail will be easy to follow, and it now looks to me as though i will be able to track them to their retreat, and that means the end. "but night is coming on now, and this is just the place for me to branch off and go to my own camp, following the trail to-morrow on horseback." buffalo bill quickly decided what course he would pursue. he would walk to his camp, get some provisions and an increased outfit, return there for the balance of the night and go into camp, so as to make an early start in the morning directly on the trail. so he set out at a rapid walk, and within three hours' time had reached his basin camp. he quickly set to work to look up some provisions and get ready for his trail, and in an hour was ready to start, mounted upon his best horse. it was after midnight when he reached his camping-place, but he was soon asleep, wrapped snugly in his blankets, while his horse was resting and feeding. with the breaking of dawn he was up and ready to start, and a few miles away discovered the spot where the outlaws had removed the muffles from the hoofs of their horses. from there on he felt no further anxiety about the trail, so cooked his breakfast, ate it leisurely, and again started on his way. he understood now thoroughly why the outlaws had left no trails going to and coming from the dead line and other points upon the overland trail. the muffled hoofs of the horses explained this, and they stuck to their determination to leave no tracks until they got far away from the scene of their evil deeds. buffalo bill did not believe that he would have to go very far from the dead line before he found their retreat, and was expecting to find out where they were in hiding within half a day's ride from his starting-point. but noon came, and still the trail led him on. he had plenty of time, so did not hurry. he could do nothing alone, other than to discover the retreat, and then he would make for his rendezvous with the surgeon-scout, and together they would plan their future movements. but night came on, and found him still on the trail. he was compelled to go into camp, for he could not follow it by night, and he soon made himself comfortable. again he started after daybreak, and a ride of several hours caused him to say: "this trail is surely leading direct to the grand cañon of the colorado. can they have sought that weird land for a retreat?--yet why not, for no safer one could be found." within an hour more he felt that the country had a familiar look, and he was not long in discovering upon riding a few miles farther, that he had ridden right along there with doctor dick when on the trail of andrew seldon. suddenly he came upon the grand vista of the cañon, and at once drew rein. there before him was the mighty view that had so impressed him on his former visit, and he knew that the outlaws must have found a retreat in the depths of the grand cañon. not daring to go farther on horseback, he rode off the trail to find a hiding-place for his horse, and, after a search, discovered a little glen where he felt that he would be safe, unless his trail was discovered and he was tracked there. there was a pool of water in one end and grass about it, so he staked his horse out, feeling that he could at least subsist comfortably there for a couple of days, should he be kept away that long. hiding his saddle and bridle he set out on foot, with a couple of blankets strapped on his back, his bag of provisions, rifle, lasso, and belt of arms. he went back to the trail and again took it up where he had left it to hide his horse. every step forward now was one of caution, for the country was open in places, and he did not know what moment he might come upon a party of outlaws and have to fight for his life. but he reached the rim of the cañon by dark, and a short search revealed to him that the trail down into the depths of the tremendous chasm had been discovered also by the road-agents, and their tracks led down into it. the night passed with a cold supper and breakfast, and then he set off on foot down the dizzy pathway leading to the bottom of the cañon, for now he felt sure that he would discover the lair of the outlaws, and that done and his own presence unknown to them, he could arrange for an attack upon them at his leisure. chapter xxxvii. the miner's mission. the gold-hunter, andrew seldon, rode on his way from his retreat in the cañon, determined to risk his life by returning to fort faraway and reporting the presence in the grand cañon of the masked outlaw band. if recognized as sergeant wallace weston, under sentence of death, he would be at once arrested and his execution would follow. but he knew that wallace weston was believed to be dead, reported as dying of starvation in the desert at the time of his escape. as sergeant weston he had been an erect man of martial bearing, with a face smoothly shaven and hair cut short. as andrew seldon he wore his hair long, and his beard fell half-way down to his belt, while he further had a pair of spectacles to disguise his eyes with, and had manufactured a hump in the shoulders of his coat that gave him a changed form, like one who stoops badly. "but come what may, i shall risk it," he said firmly, as he went on his way. after his night in the deserted camp where was the grave of black-heart bill he struck out for fort faraway. suddenly he drew his horse to a halt as he saw a dust-cloud far ahead. it was approaching him, and it was made by horses crossing a sandy part of the country. out of the dust suddenly emerged a horseman, and behind him followed a pack-animal. hidden in a clump of timber andrew seldon saw that it was a white man, and that the trail he was following would bring him near his position. "i believe that it is buffalo bill," he muttered, as he saw that the horseman was clad in buckskin and wore his hair long. but as he came nearer he said eagerly: "it is the surgeon-scout--doctor frank powell!" the coming horseman eyed the timber carefully as he approached. something had evidently made him suspicious of danger there, and, turning to the left, he was about to flank it, when andrew seldon rode into view and waved his hat. then he rode forward once more, but cautiously, for the chances were that the man he saw might be a foe, he well knew. but andrew seldon raised his hands above his head, in token of peace, and surgeon powell rode straight toward him. "i dare not let him know who i am, though i would trust him, heaven knows. he knows me as well as any man, and i'll see how i stand the test of his piercing eyes," muttered the gold-hunter, and, as the surgeon-scout drew nearer, he called out: "are you buffalo bill, sir?" "no, i am surgeon frank powell, of the army." "i see now, sir, that you are not buffalo bill, for i met him once when he was in a tight place with road-agents. are you from fort faraway, sir?" "i am." "i was on my way there to see buffalo bill, when i saw you coming, sir." "and i am on my way to seek buffalo bill, for i have an appointment to meet him not many miles from here at a deserted camp, where there is a grave." "i know it well, sir, for i made the grave, and i stopped there last night." "you made what grave?" "the grave of black-heart bill, the desperado, who is buried there." "you killed him, you mean?" "i did, sir, for he had wronged me greatly." "who are you, may i ask?" "my name is andrew seldon, sir, and i am a miner." "it seems to me that buffalo bill has spoken to me of you, in fact, i am sure of it now, for you it was who saved him from headlight joe and his outlaws." "yes, sir." "but cody believes you to be dead." "how so, sir?" "he wished to find you, so tracked you into the grand cañon, to find your house buried beneath a fallen cliff, and he thought you were beneath it all." "no, sir, i escaped; but as you are going to seek buffalo bill may i join you?" "you may join me, mr. seldon, and i shall be glad to have your company," said surgeon powell, as he rode along by the side of the gold-hunter. "i will be your guide to the deserted camp, sir; but do you expect to find mr. cody there?" "i hope so, but should he not be i shall await him." "i am glad to hear you say that, sir, for i am most anxious to see him, and i will tell you why." "if you care to." "i know your secret, surgeon powell, and am delighted to feel that i will have your aid as well as buffalo bill's in what i wish to do." "and what do you wish to do, mr. seldon?" "i will have to ask you to keep my secret, sir." "i will do so." "well, surgeon powell, i am a miner, and i strolled into the grand cañon of the colorado in my prospecting tours, and there discovered several rich gold claims. on my way there it was that i came upon a camp, and in it i found an unfortunate fellow who was wounded, yet bound securely. "he had gone out in search of gold with a desperado by the name of black-heart bill, and, finding gold, the other sought to rob him of it, so shot him. failing to find it, he was anxious to have his victim recover and show him where it was, intending then to kill him. "it was while black-heart bill was away from his camp that i came to it, and i heard his victim's story. upon the return of the man i recognized him as an old foe of mine, one to whom, with others, i owed a wicked life. "i forced him to fight me a duel, and he fell. i buried him and cut his name on the quaking aspen near his grave, and then, nursing the wounded man to life, we went to his gold find. it did not pan out very rich, so i went to one i knew of, down in the grand cañon. "while i was away at w---to get provisions, my partner heard the cliff cracking, and so moved away, up the cañon to another mine we had. he was just in time to save his life, for the cliff fell, and buffalo bill was in the valley that night with a comrade and heard the terrific roar of the falling cliff. "they believed that my comrade and myself were buried beneath the mountain of rock, but we were gazing at them the while and watched them ride away. some time after i found that others had come into the cañon, and i discovered that it was a camp of outlaws, while more still, i saw that they had a female captive. "i crept near enough at night to hear and see all, and i saw a young and beautiful girl, and the outlaw lieutenant held her a captive for his chief, until a large ransom was paid for her by the miners of last chance. "i at once decided to act, and, having seen them start with her to give her up for ransom, i came on my way to find buffalo bill and guide him to the retreat of the outlaws. that young girl, sir, gave the name of celeste seldon. she is my daughter. "now, surgeon powell, you have my story, and my comrade is in my camp, awaiting my return!" frank powell was greatly impressed with the story of the gold-hunter, to which he had listened with the deepest attention. after he had heard all he said: "my dear pard, you have made a very valuable discovery indeed, and buffalo bill will be only too glad to have you guide him to the outlaw camp, for that is his mission and mine here. i sincerely hope that your daughter will be given up in safety to the miners, and that her ransom will be recovered." "she will be given up in safety, sir, i am certain, for i have perfect confidence in the outlaw lieutenant, who told his story to celeste, and i only ask that he may not share the fate of the other outlaws," and the gold-hunter made known what had occurred between wolf and celeste, and doctor powell replied: "i agree with you, and if he acts squarely toward miss seldon, i will urge that he be allowed to go free, when his comrades are to hang." chapter xxxviii. a leaf from the past. when the surgeon-scout was guided to the deserted camp by andrew seldon, he at once saw that buffalo bill had not reached there. but there he was to wait for him, and so the horses were staked out and the two made themselves at home there. doctor powell went to have a look at the grave of black-heart bill, and the inscription upon the white bark of the aspen-tree, and said, as he read the name: "hugh mayhew was his name." "yes, sir." "there was a sergeant manton mayhew killed at fort faraway by sergeant wallace weston, who was sentenced to be shot for the deed, but escaped the very moment of his execution." "was he never captured, sir?" "poor fellow, he went to an even worse fate than being shot, for he wandered into the desert and died of starvation there. i knew that he was guilty of killing manton mayhew, but i am sure he had some grave reason for so doing, but which he would never make known. "he was a splendid soldier, brave and true, and he would have been commissioned had not that sad affair occurred." "did he give no reason for his act, sir?" "none; he simply accepted his fate, though it was said to clear himself he would have had to compromise others, and this he would not do." "poor fellow!" "yes, i often think of his sad fate." an antelope was killed that afternoon, and after enjoying a good supper the surgeon and the gold-hunter lighted their pipes and sat down for a talk, both anxiously awaiting the coming of buffalo bill. after sitting in silence for some minutes the gold-hunter said: "surgeon powell, you were speaking of wallace weston to-day?" "yes." "you may have noted that the name of mayhew is upon yonder aspen-tree?" "and referred to the fact." "i put it there." "yes." "then i knew who black-heart bill was." "that is so. i had not thought of that." "he was the brother of manton mayhew, the sergeant." "indeed!" "yes, sir." "you knew sergeant mayhew, then?" "intimately, for we were boys together." "ah! tell me of him." "we lived near each other, sir, and manton mayhew was my rival at school, and also for the love of a pretty girl whom i idolized. he did all in his power to ruin me, and when i obtained a position in a bank, where he also was a clerk, he did wreck my life, for i was accused of robbery, and worse still, of murdering the watchman, who caught me in the act. "i would surely have been hanged but for the girl i spoke of, who forced me to fly for my life, aiding me to escape. i fled, to prove my innocence, and became a wanderer. "then i received a letter from the woman i loved, telling me that she had discovered that i really was a thief and a murderer, and that she abhorred where she had loved me. "and more, when, in my despair i wrote to one who had been my friend to hear from home, i was told that manton mayhew had been the means of ruining my father financially, and the blow had driven him to suicide, while my poor mother, heart-broken, had died soon after my flight. "nor was this all, for hugh mayhew, the brother of manton, had married the girl i had loved. "several years after other news came to me from my old home, and to the effect that manton mayhew had gone to the bad and in a drunken brawl had wounded a companion fatally as he had believed, and he had fled no one knew where. "his brother hugh had wrecked his father's bank, and in a drunken frenzy had shot his wife one night, and he, too, had become a fugitive. well, to end the story quickly, for i hate to dwell upon it, manton mayhew had joined the army, and, a good soldier, had become a sergeant." "ordered to fort faraway he had met there sergeant weston, whom he recognized, and, fearing to be exposed in his crimes, he had at once attacked him, telling him he would kill him, and say that it was on account of his insubordination. "but wallace weston was armed, having just been given a revolver by an officer to take to his quarters, and he killed mayhew as he was about to drive a knife to his heart. "rather than bring out the old story, and, perhaps, be carried back east to be tried for the murder of the bank watchman, of which he was innocent, sergeant wallace weston submitted in silence to his trial and accepted his fate, feeling that his life was one of despair." "and do you know all this to be as you have stated?" asked surgeon powell, when the gold-hunter had finished his story. "i do, sir." "knowing it, you did not come to the rescue of poor weston?" "i did not, sir." "may i ask why?" and frank powell spoke sternly. "i will tell you the reason, surgeon powell, if you will pledge me your word to receive it in sacred confidence." "i will so pledge myself, mr. seldon." "because, sir, _i am wallace weston_." frank powell was always a calm, cool man, but now he sprang to his feet, dropping his pipe, and cried: "do you speak the truth?" "i do, sir." "upon honor?" "yes." "now i recognize the look that has so haunted me since i met you this morning. upon my soul, weston, i am glad to see that you are not dead, that you can clear up the story of mayhew's killing and announce yourself once more a guiltless man." "but i cannot, sir, for you forget that i am accused of murdering the watchman and robbing the bank." "is there no way in which you can disprove that?" "only by the confession of the guilty ones." "who were they?" "the mayhews, and one other." "they were guilty?" "yes, sir." "and who was the other man?" "a clerk in the bank and devoted friend of the mayhews." "where is he?" "i do not know, sir." "and they are dead." "manton and hugh mayhew are dead, by my hand, but where proof of their crime can be found i cannot tell, and so i am forced to hide under an assumed name--yes, doctor powell, the name of a dead man, andrew seldon, the one whose body was found by the rock in the desert and buried for mine." "you have had a remarkable escape, weston----" "seldon now sir, for that is the name i have taken, and let me now tell you how that poor man, the real andrew seldon, was plotted against." "i shall be glad to hear all that you are willing to tell me, seldon." "well, sir, it was while escaping from the pursuing soldiers, that i came upon a stray horse. he led me back to where his dead master lay upon the desert, and upon the body i found papers telling who he was, that he had left home under a cloud, had left a wife and child and riches, and come west to hide himself and hunt for gold until he dared return. "there was a map of gold finds he had discovered, and he had struck it rich and was on his way home. so i dressed him in my uniform, took his traps, and went my way, and he was buried as wallace weston. "it was when i was returning to the gold find of andrew seldon that i came upon black-heart bill's camp, and, finding in him hugh mayhew, i killed him. my intention was to take andrew seldon's name, dig his gold, and, to ease my conscience, give half to his family. "i imitated his writing and wrote to his lawyer and best friend, and little daughter, for his wife was dead, as letters told me which he had with him. in answer, at w---i learned that i, as andrew seldon, dared not return home, that my daughter celeste was dead, and my fortune gone. "when celeste seldon was captured, from her own lips i learned as she told the outlaw lieutenant, that all had been a plot to keep her father away, and, discovering the plot, she had come out here to find him, after the messenger had failed to write home to her later than on his arrival in w----. "now, you know, doctor powell, why i was seeking buffalo bill, and it is my intention to seek that young girl, tell her all, and give her one-half of the fortune in gold i have found, through her father's maps and directions, in the grand cañon." "and then?" "i suppose i shall drift about the world, sir, unknown, leading an aimless life, or, perhaps, return to my gold-digging again." "no, weston, such must not be your fate, for i shall take your case in hand and prove your innocence of robbing that bank and killing the watchman, for i believe your story, and then with sergeant mayhew's character proven, you can readily secure pardon for taking his life as you did in self-defense." "heaven bless you, surgeon powell!" "i only make one request, weston." "yes, sir." "that buffalo bill hears your story as i have, for he believes in your innocence most thoroughly, and will be most happy to welcome you back to life." "i will be guided by you, sir, but some one is coming." "it is buffalo bill," cried frank powell, and just then the scout rode into the camp. chapter xxxix. the outlaw's confession. when buffalo bill went on his way down into the grand cañon, he continued on until he discovered just where the outlaws had made their retreat. this done, he retraced his way as rapidly as possible, and at once went back on the trail to where he had left his horse. the sun was just setting as he neared the spot, and he approached carefully, for he was not sure that some one had not been there and discovered the animal. just as he caught sight of his horse he also saw that there was some one there, a horseman who had just ridden up to the spot. the face of the horseman was masked, and this told the story in an instant. but buffalo bill had been also discovered, and up to the outlaw's shoulder went his rifle, at the same instant that the weapon of the scout was leveled. the two rifles cracked almost as one, and the outlaw reeled, tried to spur his horse in flight, and fell to the ground. the scout at once advanced toward him, revolver in hand, when in faint voice came the words: "don't fire again! your shot is fatal!" the scout put his revolver in his belt, bent over and took the mask from the face of the wounded man, his horse following him to the spot. the face revealed was not a bad one--that of a man of thirty, with mustache, imperial, and hair worn long. the scout made him as comfortable as he could, for he saw that he had told the truth, that the wound he had received was fatal. then he sat by the side of the wounded man for a while, the light of a full moon falling full in his face, and the scout heard him say: "i am glad that i missed you, for i have done evil enough in my time." "who are you?" kindly asked the scout. "my name is alvin wolf, and i had just resolved to lead a different life, for i am an outlaw, one of the masked chief's band." "yes, i thought as much." "i changed my life when i met a young girl who was the chief's captive, and i intended to thwart his plans to again capture her, for we gave her up for ransom two days ago, and, acting for him, i received the gold. "he gave me a written order to take the gold to a spot near last chance, and turn it over to him, which i did last night, for he met me there, and then he arranged to get a large ransom for a poor crazy fellow, the lover of the young girl, i believe, and so i had decided to act to protect her; but you can do so now, for i will tell you all, and then i can die content." "yes, it is best to die with a free conscience." "i believe you, and more, i will tell you of one whom i helped to ruin in life, though he is dead now. he was a soldier at fort faraway, and his name was wallace weston. "we were boys together, though he was older than i, and i was led into temptation by others, the mayhew brothers, and we robbed the bank we were working in, were discovered by the watchman, and manton mayhew killed him, and we had so planned that the robbery would fall upon the assistant cashier, wallace weston. "he fled, for we intended to hang him by our testimony, and then hugh mayhew forged letters and caused his sweetheart to believe him guilty, and she married him, mayhew, to in the end lose her life at his hands. "manton mayhew always swore to me that he would kill weston if he ever met him, and he said he had heard he was in the army, and so i suppose, when they met at fort faraway, he attempted to do so, and was killed himself. "poor weston did not dare tell of the past, so had to suffer; but you can make the real truth known to clear his name, for i have it all written out as it is in my diary, which i have always carried with me and will now give to you." "i am glad to learn all this; but let me ask you about your outlaw band?" "yes." "how many are in it?" "nine, without counting the chief." "your retreat is in the grand cañon." "you know this?" "i do." "yes, our retreat is there." "and your chief?" the outlaw did not reply, and a shudder passed through his frame. the scout spoke again, and, leaning over, he heard a few whispered words from the dying lips which a moment after were sealed forever by death. chapter xl. tearing off the mask. when buffalo bill rode into the camp where surgeon powell and the gold-hunter sat, it was seen that he was leading two horses, one carrying a pack-saddle, the other a heavy load. the surgeon-scout at once arose and greeted him, and said: "ho, bill, what game is that?" "a dead outlaw, the lieutenant of the band, whom i killed. but you are not alone, frank?" "no, it is your old rescuer, who was on his way to the fort to see you, when he met me. he was going to tell you that the outlaws have their retreat in the grand cañon." "i have been to it; but how are you, pard seldon, and let me say that i have good news for you, as your daughter has come west to meet you and is now at last chance." "thank you, mr. cody, but i am aware of that fact, as surgeon powell can tell you; but come, look me squarely in the face, and see if you know who i am." buffalo bill gave a fixed look, and then cried excitedly: "by the gods of war, _you are wallace weston or his ghost_." "i am a very healthy ghost, sir; but i am wallace weston, and i leave it to surgeon powell to tell my story to you." the scout seized the gold-hunter's hand and wrung it hard, while he said: "thank god you are not dead, weston, for only this night have i heard the truth of your story from the lips of the dying outlaw, alvin wolf." "ha! once my friend, then my foe, for he sided with the mayhews against me." "he did, and i have his diary, which tells the whole story; but now let me tell mine, and then we can compare notes and decide what is best to be done." they first had supper, after staking out their horses, and afterward buried the body of the outlaw, alvin wolf. then, until after midnight, they sat talking together, the surgeon, the scout, and the gold-hunter, about all that had happened, after which they retired to their blankets. it was just dawn the next morning when wallace weston rode away from the old camp to make all speed to last chance. his mission there was to take a letter to driver harding, which was as follows: "trust the bearer with your life. pick out eight of the best men in the camp, whom you can trust, and have them pretend to start for w---on business, going in your coach. "see that no one else goes. have two leaders that are good saddle-horses, and smuggle into the coach seven saddles. "i will meet you at dead line with horses, and prepare to lose your leaders then, for four horses can readily pull your empty coach on to w----. "your men must be the best, and fully armed. "the bearer will bring your answer to me." "yours, b. b." pushing rapidly on, wallace weston arrived in last chance that night and at once sought out harding. giving him his letter, he received his answer, after the two had had a talk together, and then, mounted upon a fresh horse furnished him by the driver, he started upon his return, having attracted no particular attention. it was the next day that the coach rolled out for w---and it carried eight miners as passengers. arriving at dead line, it was met there by buffalo bill, surgeon powell, and wallace weston, and the eight miners joined them and went up to the scout's basin camp. then, with the two leaders taken from harding's coach, they had, with wolf's horses and the pack-animals, enough to mount the party. the next morning the start was made for the grand cañon, and the descent was made on foot in the darkness of night, the horses having been left on the rim. the party were led by wallace weston, who knew the trail perfectly, and at midnight they rushed in upon the outlaw camp, giving them a complete surprise. revolvers rattled, cries of alarm and pain were heard, cheers were given, and then silence reigned supreme, for the battle was won and four outlaws had been made prisoners--the rest were killed. one miner had been killed, and others wounded, though slightly, and these were cared for by doctor powell. in the camp the prisoner, bernard brandon, was found safe, but still unconscious of all about him, apparently. wallace weston had asked buffalo bill and surgeon powell to go on with him to his camp, and there they found lucas langley on guard, he having heard the echoes of the firing far down the cañon, and supposed that it meant an attack planned by his pard. without letting the secret be known, that there was gold in the cañon, buffalo bill ordered an early start for last chance, and it was made by all except lucas langley, who remained at his cabin to await weston's return. upon nearing last chance buffalo bill halted the party, to follow on a few hours later, while he rode on with surgeon powell and wallace weston. the scout was recognized by the miners and warmly greeted, and, as he dismounted at the hotel and was welcomed by landlord larry and harding, who had returned, doctor dick came forward and said: "delighted to see you, mr. cody, again in last chance." "yes, doctor dick, i am here to find richard mayhew, alias doctor dick, and, more still, the masked chief of the road-agents--hold! you are covered!" but doctor dick saw that all was lost, saw that the rope would be his end, and, in spite of the warning of the scout, he drew his revolver. but ere his finger touched the trigger he fell, a dead man, at the feet of buffalo bill, celeste seldon having come forward just in time to see him fall his length upon the earth. to the excited miners buffalo bill turned and made a speech, for he had killed their hero, the idol of last chance. he told them how the mask of the gambler had been torn off, by the confession of the outlaw lieutenant alvin wolf, and how he had had his suspicions aroused, as had also landlord larry and harding, by several things that had occurred. the whole story was made known, and, as the rest of the party came in, bearing the booty of the outlaws and the prisoners, and in doctor dick's cabin was found the very bag of gold that had been given for celeste seldon's ransom, and the money before taken from the coach, there was no doubting his guilt, and a howl of rage arose against him and his followers. later, while buffalo bill, surgeon powell, wallace weston, and landlord larry were at celeste seldon's cabin, telling her the true story regarding her father, the storm broke in fury, and harding rushed in to say that the miners had seized the outlaw prisoners and were hanging them. an attempted rescue was made by surgeon powell and buffalo bill, but in vain; that mob would not, could not, be stayed in its madness, and the work of revenge was accomplished. the next day, as surgeon powell had said that the reason of bernard brandon could be restored by an operation, celeste begged him to make the attempt, and, to the joy of all, it was crowned with perfect success. with his reason once on its throne, and learning all that had taken place, bernard brandon told how he had been the young partner of lawyer edgar stone, who had kept his friend, andrew seldon, away from home by false letters, had written him that celeste was dead, intending in the end to marry her and get the large fortune for himself, for the estate had greatly increased in value since the departure of its owner. he had at last decided to go to celeste and confess all, and, learning that he had done so, edgar stone had fled to save imprisonment. in atonement bernard brandon had come west to find andrew seldon, and, not hearing from him, celeste had followed him. bernard brandon hoped that his atonement might win the heart of celeste, but instead she dismissed him with liberal payment and placed herself under the guardianship of wallace weston, who had taken her father's name. bidding adieu to their pards at last chance, after sending harding to the grand cañon to join lucas langley at the mine, wallace weston went east with celeste, and going to his old home, he told the whole story of his life, and submitted letters from doctor powell, buffalo bill, and the diary of the outlaw officer as proof of his innocence, so that the charges against him were at once ended by legal process. armed with proper papers, he presented himself before the president and received his pardon, after which, with celeste seldon as mrs. wallace weston, he went to fort faraway and received a welcome from all his old officers and comrades that made his heart glad. as the mines in the grand cañon had ceased panning out as expected, wallace weston gave up his interest there to lucas langley and harding, and returned east with his beautiful wife. the end. "buffalo bill's death call" is the title of a weirdly thrilling series of adventures of the famous scout and his band in no. 42 of the buffalo bill border stories. no admirer of colonel cody and his exploits can afford to miss a volume of this series. history of the world war _by thomas r. best_ the most portentous crisis in the history of the human family has just passed. the world war was conceived in greed and will be consummated in justice. it will prove a blessing to mankind, because it spells emancipation to countless unborn generations from enslaving political and social evils. it is a big subject and one that will be discussed in every household for many years to come. questions will arise that only a clear, concise account of the war in handy form can settle. therefore, we ask you to consider =history of the world war= by thomas r. best which has been written from the american standpoint. it is purely history--not vituperation. this volume has a chronology of important events that will prove of inestimable reference value. =price 25 cents= _if ordered by mail add four cents to cover cost of postage_ street & smith corporation 79 seventh avenue new york city =what makes a superwoman?= =beauty?= =no!= =daintiness?= =no!= =wit?= =no!= =youth?= =no!= =femininity?= =no!= =seek the superwoman= you will find her in almost every generation, in almost every country, in almost every city. she is not a typical adventuress, she is not a genius. the reason for her strong power is occult. the nameless charm is found as often in homely, clumsy, dull, old masculine women as in the reverse of these types. =what makes a superwoman?= if you think the problem worth while, why not try to solve it by reading albert payson terhune's great book, superwomen? from cleopatra to lady hamilton--they are mighty interesting characters. some of them smashed thrones, some of them were content with wholesale heart smashing. you will know their secret, or rather their secrets, for seldom did 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s. & s. novels. they start as rolls of blank paper, and are turned out by the thousands, without a hand touching them. you have heard wonderful stories about machines that turn out loaves of bread and crackers by the ton, all crisp and brown and ready to eat, but you have not heard anything about the machines that turn out paper-covered books all ready to read. we have them, however, and that is why we can sell such books as those in the new romance library. this library is a veritable storehouse of good literature. there are love stories and mystery stories and stories of occult phenomena--each one a good, big generous money's worth. tell your news dealer you want no. 49 new romance library, "the wreck of the _grosvenor_", by w. clark russell. if he cannot supply you, send us    in stamps and we will send it to you postpaid. when you get it, you can confidently settle yourself down for two or three evenings of the best reading you ever had. if the above are ordered from the publishers, 4¢ must be added to the retail price of each copy to cover postage. street & smith corporation 79 seventh avenue, new york city buffalo bill border stories this line will be devoted exclusively to stories written by colonel prentiss ingraham about his lifelong friend buffalo bill. these two men were inseparable companions, and colonel ingraham is therefore well qualified to write stories of the adventures of the old-time scout and plainsman. these stories are destined to be immensely popular, because they are drawn true to life. they bring the open plains right to the reader's front door, as it were. the fact that these stories are historically correct gives them a very secure place in american literature. manifestly, no history was ever written that could give space in such detail to the adventures of a single man, no matter how important his life's work may have been; it really takes a line of so-called fiction to do it, and we can honestly say that the stories in this line do justice to the interesting character of buffalo bill. buffalo bill border stories are not for boys; they were written expressly for adults. 1--buffalo bill, the border king by col. prentiss ingraham 2--buffalo bill's raid by col. prentiss ingraham 3--buffalo bill's bravery by col. prentiss ingraham 4--buffalo bill's trump card by col. prentiss ingraham 5--buffalo bill's pledge by col. prentiss ingraham 6--buffalo bill's vengeance by col. prentiss ingraham 7--buffalo bill's iron grip by col. prentiss ingraham 8--buffalo bill's capture by col. prentiss ingraham 9--buffalo bill's danger line by col. prentiss ingraham 10--buffalo bill's comrades by col. prentiss ingraham 11--buffalo bill's reckoning by col. prentiss ingraham 12--buffalo bill's warning by col. prentiss ingraham 13--buffalo bill at bay by colonel prentiss ingraham 14--buffalo bill's buckskin pards. by colonel prentiss ingraham 15--buffalo bill's brand by colonel prentiss ingraham 16--buffalo bill's honor by colonel prentiss ingraham 17--buffalo bill's phantom hunt by colonel prentiss ingraham 18--buffalo bill's fight with fire by colonel prentiss ingraham 19--buffalo bill's danite trail by colonel prentiss ingraham 20--buffalo bill's ranch riders by colonel prentiss ingraham 21--buffalo bill's death trail by colonel prentiss ingraham 22--buffalo bill's trackers by colonel prentiss ingraham 23--buffalo bill's mid-air flight by colonel prentiss ingraham 24--buffalo bill, ambassador by colonel prentiss ingraham 25--buffalo bill's air voyage by colonel prentiss ingraham 26--buffalo bill's secret mission by colonel prentiss ingraham 27--buffalo bill's long trail by colonel prentiss ingraham 28--buffalo bill against odds by colonel prentiss ingraham 29--buffalo bill's hot chase by colonel prentiss ingraham 30--buffalo bill's redskin ally by colonel prentiss ingraham 31--buffalo bill's treasure trove by colonel prentiss ingraham 32--buffalo bill's hidden foes by colonel prentiss ingraham 33--buffalo bill's crack shot by colonel prentiss ingraham 34--buffalo bill's close call by colonel prentiss ingraham 35--buffalo bill's double surprise by colonel prentiss ingraham 36--buffalo bill's ambush by colonel prentiss ingraham 37--buffalo bill's outlaw hunt by colonel prentiss ingraham 38--buffalo bill's border duel by colonel prentiss ingraham 39--buffalo bill's bid for fame by colonel prentiss ingraham 40--buffalo bill's triumph by colonel prentiss ingraham 41--buffalo bill's spy trailer by colonel prentiss ingraham 42--buffalo bill's death call by colonel prentiss ingraham 43--buffalo bill's body guard by colonel prentiss ingraham 44--buffalo bill's still hunt by colonel prentiss ingraham 45--buffalo bill and the doomed dozen by colonel prentiss ingraham 46--buffalo bill's prairie scout by colonel prentiss ingraham 47--buffalo bill's traitor guide by colonel prentiss ingraham 48--buffalo bill's bonanza by colonel prentiss ingraham transcriber's note: obvious typographical errors have been corrected. the advertisement for buffalo bill's border stories has been moved from the front of the book to the back. proofreading team [illustration: buffalo bill--col. william f. cody] an autobiography of buffalo bill (colonel w.f. cody) illustrated by n.c. wyeth 1920 by cosmopolitan book corporation farrar & rinehart incorporated on murray hill, new york printed in the u.s.a. by quinn & boden company, inc. rahway, n.j. dedicated to my nephew and niece, george cody goodman, anna bond goodman, and family. list of illustrations buffalo bill--col. william f. cody. _frontispiece_ he shoved a pistol in the man's face and said: "i'm calling the hand that's in your hat" chief satanta passed the peace-pipe to general sherman and said: "my great white brothers" winning my name--"buffalo bill" it was no time for argument. i fired and killed him pursued by fifteen bloodthirsty indians, i had a running fight of eleven miles a shower of arrows rained on our dead mules from the closing circle of red-men stage-coach driving was full of hair-raising adventures chapter i i am about to take the back-trail through the old west--the west that i knew and loved. all my life it has been a pleasure to show its beauties, its marvels and its possibilities to those who, under my guidance, saw it for the first time. now, going back over the ground, looking at it through the eyes of memory, it will be a still greater pleasure to take with me the many readers of this book. and if, in following me through some of the exciting scenes of the old days, meeting some of the brave men who made its stirring history, and listening to my camp-fire tales of the buffalo, the indian, the stage-coach and the pony-express, their interest in this vast land of my youth, should be awakened, i should feel richly repaid. the indian, tamed, educated and inspired with a taste for white collars and moving-pictures, is as numerous as ever, but not so picturesque. on the little tracts of his great inheritance allotted him by civilization he is working out his own manifest destiny. the buffalo has gone. gone also is the stagecoach whose progress his pilgrimages often used to interrupt. gone is the pony express, whose marvelous efficiency could compete with the wind, but not with the harnessed lightning flashed over the telegraph wires. gone are the very bone-gatherers who laboriously collected the bleaching relics of the great herds that once dotted the prairies. but the west of the old times, with its strong characters, its stern battles and its tremendous stretches of loneliness, can never be blotted from my mind. nor can it, i hope, be blotted from the memory of the american people, to whom it has now become a priceless possession. it has been my privilege to spend my working years on the frontier. i have known and served with commanders like sherman, sheridan, miles, custer and a.a. carr--men who would be leaders in any army in any age. i have known and helped to fight with many of the most notable of the indian warriors. frontiersmen good and bad, gunmen as well as inspired prophets of the future, have been my camp companions. thus, i know the country of which i am about to write as few men now living have known it. recently, in the hope of giving permanent form to the history of the plains, i staged many of the indian battles for the films. through the courtesy of the war and interior departments i had the help of the soldiers and the indians. now that this work has been done i am again in the saddle and at your service for what i trust will be a pleasant and perhaps instructive journey over the old trails. we shall omit the hazards and the hardships, but often we shall leave the iron roads over which the pullman rolls and, back in the hills, see the painted indians winding up the draws, or watch the more savage mormon danites swoop down on the wagon-train. in my later years i have brought the west to the east--under a tent. now i hope to bring the people of the east and of the new west to the old west, and possibly here and there to supply new material for history. i shall try to vary the journey, for frequent changes of scenes are grateful to travelers. i shall show you some of the humors as well as the excitements of the frontier. and our last halting-place will be at sunrise--the sunrise of the new west, with its waving grain-fields, fenced flocks and splendid cities, drawing upon the mountains for the water to make it fertile, and upon the whole world for men to make it rich. i was born on a farm near leclair, scott county, iowa, february 26, 1846. my father, isaac cody, had emigrated to what was then a frontier state. he and his people, as well as my mother, had all dwelt in ohio. i remember that there were indians all about us, looking savage enough as they slouched about the village streets or loped along the roads on their ponies. but they bore no hostility toward anything save work and soap and water. we were comfortable and fairly prosperous on the little farm. my mother, whose maiden name was mary ann leacock, took an active part in the life of the neighborhood. an education was scarce in those days. even school teachers did not always possess it. mother's education was far beyond the average, and the local school board used to require all applicants for teachers' position to be examined by her before they were entrusted with the tender intellects of the pioneer children. but the love of adventure was in father's blood. the railroad--the only one i had ever seen--extended as far as port byron, illinois, just across the mississippi. when the discovery of gold in california in 1849 set the whole country wild, this railroad began to bring the argonauts, bound for the long overland wagon journey across the plains. naturally father caught the excitement. in 1850 he made a start, but it was abandoned--why i never knew. but after that he was not content with iowa. in 1853 our farm and most of our goods and chattels were converted into money. and in 1854 we all set out for kansas, which was soon to be opened for settlers as a territory. two wagons carried our household goods. a carriage was provided for my mother and sisters. father had a trading-wagon built, and stocked it with red blankets, beads, and other goods with which to tempt the indians. my only brother had been killed by a fall from a horse, so i was second in command, and proud i was of the job. my uncle elijah kept a general store at weston, missouri, just across the kansas line. he was a large exporter of hemp as well as a trader. also he was a slave-owner. weston was our first objective. father had determined to take up a claim in kansas and to begin a new life in this stirring country. had he foreseen the dreadful consequences to himself and to his family of this decision we might have remained in iowa, in which case perhaps i might have grown up an iowa farmer, though that now seems impossible. thirty days of a journey that was a constant delight to me brought us to weston, where we left the freight-wagons and mother and my sisters in the care of my uncle. to my great joy father took me with him on his first trip into kansas--where he was to pick out his claim and incidentally to trade with the indians from our wagon. i shall never forget the thrill that ran through me when father, pointing to the block-house at fort leavenworth, said: "son, you now see a real military fort for the first time in your life." and a real fort it was. cavalry--or dragoons as they called them then--were engaged in saber drill, their swords flashing in the sunlight. artillery was rumbling over the parade ground. infantry was marching and wheeling. about the post were men dressed all in buckskin with coonskin caps or broad-brimmed slouch hats--real westerners of whom i had dreamed. indians of all sorts were loafing about--all friendly, but a new and different kind of indians from any i had seen--kickapoos, possawatomies, delawares, choctaws, and other tribes, of which i had often heard. everything i saw fascinated me. these drills at the fort were no fancy dress-parades. they meant business. a thousand miles to the west the mormons were running things in utah with a high hand. no one at fort leavenworth doubted that these very troops would soon be on their way to determine whether brigham young or the united states government should be supreme there. to the north and west the hostile indians, constantly irritated by the encroachments of the white man, had become a growing menace. the block-houses i beheld were evidences of preparedness against this danger. and in that day the rumblings of the coming struggle over slavery could already be heard. kansas--very soon afterward "bleeding kansas"--was destined to be an early battleground. and we were soon to know something of its tragedies. free-soil men and pro-slavery men were then ready to rush across the border the minute it was opened for settlement. father was a free-soil man. his brother elijah who, as i have said, was a slave-owner, was a believer in the extension of slavery into the new territory. knowing that the soldiers i saw today might next week be on their way to battle made my eyes big with excitement. i could have stayed there forever. but father had other plans, and we were soon on our way. with our trading-wagon we climbed a hill--later named sheridan's ridge for general philip sheridan. from its summit we had a view of salt creek valley, the most beautiful valley i have ever seen. in this valley lay our future home. the hill was very steep, and i remember we had to "lock" or chain the wagon-wheels as we descended. we made camp in the valley. the next day father began trading with the indians, who were so pleased with the bargains he had to offer that they sent their friends back to us when they departed. one of the first trades he made was for a little pony for me--a four-year-old--which i was told i should have to break myself. i named him prince. i had a couple of hard falls, but i made up my mind i was going to ride that pony or bust, and--i did not bust. the next evening, looking over toward the west, i saw a truly frontier sight--a line of trappers winding down the hillside with their pack animals. my mother had often told me of the trappers searching the distant mountains for fur-bearing animals and living a life of fascinating adventure. here they were in reality. while some of the men prepared the skins, others built a fire and began to get a meal. i watched them cook the dried venison, and was filled with wonder at their method of making bread, which was to wrap the dough about a stick and hold it over the coals till it was ready to eat. you can imagine my rapture when one of them--a pleasant-faced youth--looked up, and catching sight of me, invited me to share the meal. boys are always hungry, but i was especially hungry for such a meal as that. after it was over i hurried to camp and told my father all that had passed. at his request i brought the young trapper who had been so kind to me over to our camp, and there he had a long talk with father, telling him of his adventures by land and sea in all parts of the world. he said that he looked forward with great interest to his arrival in weston, as he expected to meet an uncle, elijah cody. he had seen none of his people for many years. "if elijah cody is your uncle, i am too," said my father. "you must be the long-lost horace billings." father had guessed right. horace had wandered long ago from the ohio home and none of his family knew of his whereabouts. he had been to south america and to california, joining a band of trappers on the columbia river and coming with them back across the plains. when i showed him my pony he offered to help break him for me. with very little trouble he rode the peppery little creature this way and that, and at last when he circled back to camp i found the animal had been mastered. in the days that followed horace gave me many useful lessons as a horseman. he was the prettiest rider i had ever seen. there had been a stampede of horses from the fort, and a reward of ten dollars a head had been offered for all animals brought in. that was easy money for horace. i would gallop along at his side as he chased the fugitive horses. he had a long, plaited lariat which settled surely over the neck of the brute he was after. then, putting a "della walt" on the pommel of his saddle, he would check his own mount and bring his captive to a sudden standstill. he caught and brought in five horses the first day, and must have captured twenty-five within the next few days, earning a sum of money which was almost a small fortune in that time. meanwhile the territory had been opened for settlement. our claim, over which the great salt lake trail for california passed, had been taken up, and as soon as father and i, assisted by men he hired, could get our log cabin up, the family came on from weston. the cabin was a primitive affair. there was no floor at first. but gradually we built a floor and partitions, and made it habitable. i spent all my spare time picking up the kickapoo tongue from the indian children in the neighborhood, and listening with both ears to the tales of the wide plains beyond. the great freighting firm of russell, majors & waddell was then sending its twenty-five wagon trains out from the plains to carry supplies to the soldiers at the frontier forts. leavenworth was the firm's headquarters. russell stayed on the books, and majors was the operating man on the plains. the trains were wonderful to me, each wagon with its six yoke of oxen, wagon-masters, extra hands, assistants, bull-whackers and cavayard driver following with herds of extra oxen. i began at once making the acquaintance of the men, and by the end of 1854 i knew them all. up to this time, while bad blood existed between the free-soilers and the pro-slavery men, it had not become a killing game. the pro-slavery missourians were in the great majority. they harassed the free-soilers considerably and committed many petty persecutions, but no blood was shed. father's brother, elijah, who kept the store at weston, was known to be a pro-slavery man, and for a time it was taken for granted that father held the same views. but he was never at any pains to hide his own opinions, being a man who was afraid of nothing. john brown of ossawatomie, later hanged, for the harper's ferry raid, at charlestown, va., was his friend. so were colonel jim lane and many other abolitionists. he went to their houses openly, and they came to his. he worked hard with the men he had hired, cutting the wild hay and cordwood to sell to the fort, and planting sod corn under the newly turned sod of the farm. he also made a garden, plowing and harrowing the soil and breaking up the sods by hitching horses to branching trees and drawing them over the ground. he minded his own business and avoided all the factional disputes with which the neighborhood abounded. in june, 1856, when i was ten years old, father went to the fort to collect his pay for hay and wood he had sold there. i accompanied him on my pony. on our return we saw a crowd of drunken horsemen in front of riveley's trading-post--as stores were called on the frontier. there were many men in the crowd and they were all drunk, yelling and shooting their pistols in the air. they caught sight of us immediately and a few of them advanced toward us as we rode up. father expected trouble, but he was not a man to turn back. we rode quietly up to them, and were about to continue on past when one of them yelled: "there's that abolition cuss now. git him up here and make him declar' hisself!" "git off that hoss, cody!" shouted another. by this time more than a dozen men were crowding about father, cursing and abusing him. soon they tore him from his horse. one of them rolled a drygoods box from the store. "now," he said, "git up on that thar box, and tell us whar' ye stand." standing on the box, father looked at the ringleaders with no sign of fear. "i am not ashamed of my views," he said, quietly. "i am not an abolitionist, and never have been. i think it is better to let slavery alone in the states where it is now. but i am not at all afraid to tell you that i am opposed to its extension, and that i believe that it should be kept out of kansas." his speech was followed by a wild yell of derision. men began crowding around him, cursing and shaking their fists. one of them, whom i recognized as charlie dunn, an employee of my uncle elijah, worked his way through the crowd, and jumped up on the box directly behind father. i saw the gleam of a knife. the next instant, without a groan, father fell forward stabbed in the back. somehow i got off my pony and ran to his assistance, catching him as he fell. his weight overbore me but i eased him as he came to the ground. dunn was still standing, knife in hand, seeking a chance for another thrust. "look out, ye'll stab the kid!" somebody yelled. another man, with a vestige of decency, restrained the murderer. riveley came out of the store. there was a little breaking up of the crowd. dunn was got away. what happened to him later i shall tell you in another chapter. with the help of a friend i got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. i held his head in my lap during the ride home. i believed he was mortally wounded. he had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound. but he did not die of it--then. mother nursed him carefully and had he been spared further persecution, he might have survived. but this was only the beginning. the pro-slavers waited a few days, and finding there was no move to molest them, grew bold. they announced that they were coming to our house to finish their work. one night we heard that a party was organized to carry out this purpose. as quietly as possible mother helped take father out into the sod corn, which then grew tall and thick close about the cabin. she put a shawl round him and a sun-bonnet on his head to disguise him as he was taken out. there in the sod corn we made him a bed of hay and blankets and there we kept him for days, carrying food to him by night. these were anxious days for my mother and her little family. my first real work as a scout began then, for i had to keep constantly on the watch for raids by the ruffians, who had now sworn that father must die. as soon as he was able to walk we decided that he must be got away. twenty-five miles distant, at grasshopper falls, were a party of his friends. there he hoped one day to plant a colony. with the help of a few friends we moved him thither one night, but word of his whereabouts soon reached his enemies. i kept constantly on the alert, and, hearing that a party had set out to murder him at the falls, i got into the saddle and sped out to warn him. at a ford on the way i ran into the gang, who had stopped to water their horses. as i galloped past, one of them yelled: "there's cody's kid now on his way to warn his father. stop, you, and tell us where your old man is." a pistol shot, to terrify me into obedience, accompanied the command. i may have been terrified, but it was not into obedience. i got out of there like a shot, and though they rode hard on my trail my pony was too fast for them. my warning was in time. we got father as quickly as we could to lawrence, which was an abolition stronghold, and where he was safe for the time being. he gradually got back a part of his strength, enough of it at any rate to enable him to take part in the repulse of a raid of missourians who came over to burn lawrence and lynch the abolitionists. they were driven back across the missouri river by the lawrence men, who trapped them into an ambush and so frightened them that for the present they rode on their raids no more. when father returned to salt creek valley the persecutions began again. the gangsters drove off all our stock and killed all our pigs and even the chickens. one night judge sharpe, a disreputable old alcoholic who had been elected a justice of the peace, came to the house and demanded a meal. mother, trembling for the safety of her husband, who lay sick upstairs, hastened to get it for him. as the old scoundrel sat waiting he caught sight of me. "look yere, kid," he shouted, "ye see this knife?" he drew a long, wicked bowie. "well, i'm going to sharpen that to finish up the job that charlie dunn began the other day." and scowling horribly at me he began whetting the knife on a stone he picked up from the table. now, i knew something about a gun, and there was a gun handy. it was upstairs, and i lost no time in getting it. sitting on the stairs i cocked it and held it across my knees. i am sure that i should have shot him had he attempted to come up those stairs. he didn't test my shooting ability, however. he got even with me by taking my beloved pony, prince, when he left. mother pleaded with him to leave it, for it was the only animal we had, but she might as well have pleaded with a wildcat. we had now been reduced to utter destitution. our only food was what rabbits and birds i could trap and catch with the help of our faithful old dog turk, and the sod corn which we grated into flour. father could be of no service to us. his presence, in fact, was merely a menace. so, with the help of brown, jim lane and other free-soilers, he made his way back to ohio and began recruiting for his grasshopper falls colony. he returned to us in the spring of '57 mortally ill. the wound inflicted by dunn had at last fulfilled the murderer's purpose. father died in the little log-house, the first man to shed his blood in the fight against the extension of slavery into the northern territories. i was eleven years old, and the only man of the family. i made up my mind to be a breadwinner. at that time the fort was full of warlike preparations. a great number of troops were being assembled to send against the mormons. trouble had been long expected. united states judges and federal officers sent to the territory of utah had been flouted. some of them never dared take their seats. those who did asked assistance. congress at last decided to give it to them. general harney was to command the expedition. col. albert sidney johnston, afterward killed at shiloh, where he fought on the confederate side, was in charge of the expedition to which the earliest trains were to be sent. many of the soldiers had already pushed on ahead. russell, majors & waddell were awarded the contract for taking them supplies and beef cattle. the supplies were forwarded in the long trains of twenty-five wagons, of which i have told you. the cattle were driven after the soldiers, the herds often falling many miles behind them. i watched these great preparations eagerly, and it occurred to me that i ought to have a share in them. i went to mr. majors, whom i always called uncle aleck, and asked him for a job. i told him of our situation, and that i needed it very badly for the support of my mother and family. "but you're only a boy, billy," he objected. "what can you do?" "i can ride as well as a man," i said. "i could drive cavayard, couldn't i?" driving cavayard is herding the extra cattle that follow the wagon train. mr. majors agreed that i could do this, and consented to employ me. i was to receive a man's wages, forty dollars a month and food, and the wages were to be paid to my mother while i was gone. with forty dollars a month she would be able to support her daughters and my baby brother in comfort. before i was allowed to go to work uncle aleck handed me the oath which every one of his employees must sign. i did my best to live up to its provisions, but i am afraid that the profanity clause at least was occasionally violated by some of the bull-whackers. here is the oath: "we, the undersigned wagon-masters, assistants, teamsters and all other employees of the firm of russell, majors & waddell, do hereby sign that we will not swear, drink whisky, play cards or be cruel to dumb beasts in any way, shape or form. his (signed) "william frederick x cody." mark i signed it with my mark, for i could not write then. after administering this ironclad oath mr. majors gave each man a testament. my first job was that of accompanying a herd of cattle destined for beef for the troops that had gone on ahead. bill mccarthy, boss of the outfit, was a typical westerner, rough but courageous, and with plenty of experience on the frontier. we progressed peacefully enough till we made plum creek, thirty-six miles west of fort kearney, on the south platte. the trip had been full of excitement for me. the camp life was rough, the bacon often rusty and the flour moldy, but the hard work gave us big appetites. plainsmen learn not to be particular. i remember that on some of our trips we obtained such "luxuries" as dried apples and beans as part of our supplies. we could only have these once every two or three days, and their presence in the mess was always a glad occasion. we were nooning at plum creek, the cattle spread out over the prairie to graze in charge of two herders. suddenly there was a sharp bang! bang! bang! and a thunder of hoofs. "indians! they've shot the herders and stampeded the cattle!" cried mccarthy. "get under the banks of the river, boys--use 'em for a breastwork!" we obeyed orders quickly. the platte, a wide, shallow, muddy stream, flows under banks which vary from five to thirty feet in height. behind them we were in much the position of european soldiers in a trench. we had our guns, and if the indians showed over the bank could have made it hot for them. mccarthy told us to keep together and to make our way down the river to fort kearney, the nearest refuge. it was a long and wearying journey, but our lives depended on keeping along the river bed. often we would have to wade the stream which, while knee-deep to the men, was well-nigh waist-deep to me. gradually i fell behind, and when night came i was dragging one weary step after another--dog-tired but still clinging to my old mississippi yaeger rifle, a short muzzle-loader which carried a ball and two buckshot. darkness came, and i still toiled along. the men ahead were almost out of hearing. presently the moon rose, dead ahead of me. and painted boldly across its face was the black figure of an indian. there could be no mistaking him for a white man. he wore the war-bonnet of the sioux, and at his shoulder was a rifle, pointed at someone in the bottom below him. i knew well enough that in another second he would drop one of my friends. so i raised my yaeger and fired. i saw the figure collapse, and heard it come tumbling thirty feet down the bank, landing with a splash in the water. mccarthy and the rest of the party, hearing the shot, came back in a hurry. "what is it?" asked mccarthy, when he came up to me. "i don't know," i said. "whatever it is, it is down there in the water." mccarthy ran over to the brave. "hi!" he cried. "little billy's killed an indian all by himself!" not caring to meet any of this gentleman's friends we pushed on still faster toward fort kearney, which we reached about daylight. we were given food and sent to bed, while the soldiers set out to look for our slain comrades and to try to recover our cattle. soldiers from fort leavenworth found the herders, killed and mutilated in the indian fashion. but the cattle had been stampeded among the buffalo and it was impossible to recover a single head. we were taken back to leavenworth on one of the returning freight wagon-trains. the news of my exploit was noised about and made me the envy of all the boys of the neighborhood. the leavenworth _times_, published by d.b. anthony, sent a reporter to get the story of the adventure, and in it my name was printed for the first time as the youngest indian slayer of the plains. i was persuaded now that i was destined to lead a life on the plains. the two months that our ill-fated expedition had consumed had not discouraged me. once more i applied to mr. majors for a job. "you seem to have a reputation as a frontiersman, billy," he said; "i guess i'll have to give yon another chance." he turned me over to lew simpson, who was boss of a twenty-five wagon-train just starting with supplies for general albert sidney johnston's army, which was then on its way to great salt lake to fight the mormons, whose destroying angels, or danites, were engaged in many outrages on gentile immigrants. simpson appeared to be glad to have me. "we need indian fighters, billy," he told me, and giving me a mule to ride assigned me to a job as cavayard driver. our long train, twenty-five wagons in a line, each with its six yoke of oxen, rolled slowly out of leavenworth over the western trail. wagon-master assistants, bull-whackers--thirty men in all not to mention the cavayard driver--it was an imposing sight. this was to be a long journey, clear to the utah country, and i eagerly looked forward to new adventures. the first of these came suddenly. we were strung out over the trail near the platte, about twenty miles from the scene of the indian attack on mccarthy's outfit, watching the buffalo scattered to right and left of us, when we heard two or three shots, fired in rapid succession. before we could find out who fired them, down upon us came a herd of buffalo, charging in a furious stampede. there was no time to do anything but jump behind our wagons. the light mess-wagon was drawn by six yoke of texas steers which instantly became part of the stampede, tearing away over the prairie with the buffalo, our wagon following along behind. the other wagons were too heavy for the steers to gallop away with; otherwise the whole outfit would have gone. i remember that one big bull came galloping down between two yoke of oxen, tearing away the gooseneck and the heavy chain with each lowered horn. i can still see him as he rushed away with these remarkable decorations dangling from either side. whether or not his new ornaments excited the admiration of his fellows when the herd came to a stand later in the day, i can only guess. the descent of the buffalo upon us lasted only a few minutes, but so much damage was done that three days were required to repair it before we could move on. we managed to secure our mess-wagon, again, which was lucky, for it contained all our provender. we learned afterward that the stampede had been caused by a returning party of california gold-seekers, whose shots into the herd had been our first warning of what was coming. twice before we neared the mormon country we were attacked by indians. the army was so far ahead that they had become bold. we beat off the attacks, but lost two men. it was white men, however, not indians, who were to prove our most dangerous enemies. arriving near green river we were nooning on a ridge about a mile and a half from a little creek, halm's fork, where the stock were driven to water. this was a hundred and fifteen miles east of salt lake city, and well within the limits of the mormon country. most of the outfit had driven the cattle to the creek, a mile and a half distant, and were returning slowly, while the animals grazed along the way back to camp. i was with them. we were out of sight of the wagons. as we rose the hill a big bearded man, mounted and surrounded by a party of armed followers, rode up to our wagon-master. "throw up your hands, simpson!" said the leader, who knew simpson's name and his position. simpson was a brave man, but the strangers had the drop and up went his hands. at the same time we saw that the wagons were surrounded by several hundred men, all mounted and armed, and the teamsters all rounded up in a bunch. we knew that we had fallen into the hands of the mormon danites, or destroying angels, the ruffians who perpetrated the dreadful mountain meadows massacre of the same year. the leader was lot smith, one of the bravest and most determined of the whole crowd. "now, simpson," he said, "we are going to be kind to you. you can have one wagon with the cattle to draw it. get into it all the provisions and blankets you can carry, and turn right round and go back to the missouri river. you're headed in the wrong direction." "can we have our guns?" asked simpson. "not a gun." "six-shooters?" "not a six-shooter. nothing but food and blankets." "how are we going to protect ourselves on the way?" "that's your business. we're doing you a favor to spare your lives." all simpson's protests were in vain. there were thirty of us against several hundred of them. mormons stood over us while we loaded a wagon till it sagged with provisions, clothing and blankets. they had taken away every rifle and every pistol we possessed. ordering us to hike for the east, and informing us that we would be shot down if we attempted to turn back, they watched us depart. when we had moved a little way off we saw a blaze against the sky behind us, and knew that our wagon-train had been fired. the greasy bacon made thick black smoke and a bright-red flame, and for a long time the fire burned, till nothing was left but the iron bolts and axles and tires. smith's party, which had been sent out to keep all supplies from reaching johnston's army, had burned two other wagon-trains that same day, as we afterward learned. the wagons were all completely consumed, and for the next few years the mormons would ride out to the scenes to get the iron that was left in the ashes. turned adrift on the desert with not a weapon to defend ourselves was hardly a pleasant prospect. it meant a walk of a thousand miles home to leavenworth. the wagon was loaded to its full capacity. there was nothing to do but walk. i was not yet twelve years old, but i had to walk with the rest the full thousand miles, and we made nearly thirty miles a day. fortunately we were not molested by indians. from passing wagon-trains we got a few rifles, all they could spare, and with these we were able to kill game for fresh meat. i wore out three pairs of moccasins on that journey, and learned then that the thicker are the soles of your shoes, the easier are your feet on a long walk over rough ground. after a month of hard travel we reached leavenworth. i set out at once for the log-cabin home, whistling as i walked, and the first to welcome me was my old dog turk, who came tearing toward me and almost knocked me down in his eagerness. i am sure my mother and sisters were mighty glad to see me. they had feared that i might never return. my next journey over the plains was begun under what, to me, were very exciting circumstances. i spent the winter of '57-'58 at school. my mother was anxious about my education. but the master of the frontier school wore out several armfuls of hazel switches in a vain effort to interest me in the "three r's." i kept thinking of my short but adventurous past. and as soon as another opportunity offered to return to it i seized it eagerly. that spring my former boss, lew simpson, was busily organizing a "lightning bull team" for his employers, russell, majors & waddell. albert sidney johnston's soldiers, then moving west, needed supplies, and needed them in a hurry. thus far the mule was the reindeer of draft animals, and mule trains were forming to hurry the needful supplies to the soldiers. but simpson had great faith in the bull. a picked bull train, he allowed, could beat a mule train all hollow on a long haul. all he wanted was a chance to prove it. his employers gave him the chance. for several weeks he had been picking his animals for the outfit. and now he was to begin what is perhaps the most remarkable race ever made across the plains. a mule train was to start a week after simpson's lightning bulls began their westward course. whichever outfit got to fort laramie first would be the winner. no more excitement could have been occasioned had the contestants been a reindeer and a jack-rabbit. to my infinite delight simpson let me join his party. my thousand-mile tramp over the plains had cured me of the walking habit and i was glad to find that this time i was to have a horse to ride--part of the way, anyhow. i was to be an extra hand--which meant that by turns i was to be a bull-whacker, driver and general-utility man. i remember that our start was a big event. men, women and children watched our chosen animals amble out of salt creek. the "mule skinners," busy with preparations for their own departure, stopped work to jeer us. "we'll ketch you in a couple of days or so!" yelled tom stewart, boss of the mule outfit. but simpson only grinned. jeers couldn't shake his confidence either in himself or his long-horned motive power. we made the first hundred and fifty miles easily. i was glad to be a plainsman once more, and took a lively interest in everything that went forward. we were really making speed, too, which added to the excitement. the ordinary bull team could do about fifteen miles a day. under simpson's command his specially selected bulls were doing twenty-five, and doing it right along. but one day, while we were nooning about one hundred and fifty miles on the way, one of the boys shouted: "here come the mules!" presently stewart's train came shambling up, and a joyful lot the "mule skinners" were at what they believed their victory. but it was a short-lived victory. at the end of the next three hundred miles we found them, trying to cross the platte, and making heavy work of it. the grass fodder had told on the mules. supplies from other sources were now exhausted. there were no farms, no traders, no grain to be had. the race had become a race of endurance, and the strongest stomachs were destined to be the winners. stewart made a bad job of the crossing. the river was high, and his mules quickly mired down in the quicksand. the more they pawed the deeper they went. simpson picked a place for crossing below the ford stewart had chosen. he put enough bulls on a wagon to insure its easy progress, and the bulls wallowed through the sand on their round bellies, using their legs as paddles. steward pulled ahead again after he had crossed the river, but soon his mules grew too feeble to make anything like their normal speed. we passed them for good and all a few days farther on, and were far ahead when we reached the north platte. thus ended a race that i shall never forget. since that time the stage-coach has outdistanced the bull team, the pony express has swept past the stage-coach, the locomotive has done in an hour what the prairie schooner did in three or four days. soon the aeroplane will be racing with the automobile for the cross-country record. but the bull team and the mule team were the continental carriers of that day, and i am very glad that i took part--on the winning side--in a race between them. we soon began meeting parties of soldiers, and lightening our loads by issuing supplies to them. when at last we reacted fort laramie, the outfit was ordered to fort walback, located in cheyenne pass, twenty-five miles from where cheyenne stands today, and ninety miles from fort laramie. this was in the very heart of the indian country. our animals were to haul in plows, tools and whatever was necessary in the constructing of the new fort then building. the wagon-beds were taken from the wagons to enable the hauling of greater loads. the beds were piled up at fort laramie, and i was assigned to watch them. it was here that i had abundant time and opportunity to study the west at first hand. heretofore i had been on the march. now i was on fixed post with plenty of time for observation. fort laramie was an old frontier post, such as has not existed for many years. nearby, three or four thousand sioux, northern cheyennes and northern arapahoes were encamped, most of them spending much of the time at the post. laramie had been established by a fur-trading company in 1834. in 1840 or thereabouts the government bought it and made it a military post. it had become the most famous meeting-place of the plains. here the greatest indian councils were held, and here also came the most celebrated of the indian fighters, men whose names had long been known to me, but whom i never dared hope to see. kit carson, jim bridger, baker, richards and other of the celebrated hunters, trappers and indian fighters were as familiar about the post as are bankers in wall street. all these men fascinated me, especially carson, a small, dapper, quiet man whom everybody held in profound respect. i used to sit for hours and watch him and the others talk to the indians in the sign language. without a sound they would carry on long and interesting conversations, tell stories, inquire about game and trails, and discuss pretty much everything that men find worth discussing. i was naturally desirous of mastering this mysterious medium of speech, and began my education in it with far more interest than i had given to the "three r's" back at salt creek. my wagon-beds became splendid playhouses for the indian children from the villages, who are very much like other children, despite their red skins. i joined them in their games, and from them picked up a fair working knowledge of the sioux language. the acquaintance i formed here was to save my scalp and life later, but i little suspected it then. i spent the summer of '58 in and about laramie. i was getting to be a big, husky boy now, and felt that i had entered on what was to be my career--as indeed i had. in january, '59, simpson was ordered back to missouri as brigade train-master of three wagon-trains, traveling a day apart. because of much travel the grass along the regular trail was eaten so close that the feed for the bulls was scanty. instead of following the trail down the south platte, therefore, simpson picked a new route along the north platte. there was no road, but the grass was still long, and forage for the cattle was necessary. we had accomplished about half our journey with no sign of hostile indians. then one day, as simpson, george woods and i were riding ahead to overtake the lead train, a party of sioux bore down on us, plainly intent on mischief. there was little time to act. no cover of any kind was to be had. for us three, even with our rifles, to have stood up against the sioux in the open would have been suicide. simpson had been trained to think quickly. swinging the three mules so that they formed a triangle, he drew his six-shooter and dropped them where they stood. "now there's a little cover, boys," he said, and we all made ready for the attack. our plan of defense was now made for us. first rifles, then, at closer quarters, revolvers. if it came to a hand-to-hand conflict we had our knives as a last resort. the sioux drew up when they saw how quickly simpson's wit had built a barricade for us. then the arrows began to fly and among them spattered a few bullets. we were as sparing as possible with our shots. most of them told. i had already learned how to use a rifle, and was glad indeed that i had. if ever a boy stood in need of that kind of preparedness i did. down came the indians, with the blood-curdling yell which is always a feature of their military strategy. we waited till they got well within range. then at simpson's order we fired. three ponies galloped riderless over the prairie, and our besiegers hesitated, then wheeled, and rode out of range. but our rest was short. back they came. again we fired, and had the good fortune to stop three more of them. simpson patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. "you're all right, billy!" he said, and his praise was music to my ears. by this time our poor dead mules, who had given their lives for ours, were stuck full of arrows. woods had been winged in the shoulder. simpson, carefully examining the wound, expressed his belief that the arrow which inflicted it had not been poisoned. [illustration: a shower of arrows rained on our dead mules from the closing circle of red-men] but we had little time to worry about that or anything else. our enemies were still circling, just out of range. here and there when they grew incautious we dropped a man or a pony. but we were still heavily outnumbered. they knew it and we knew it. unless help came it was only a question of time till it was all over. daylight came and they still held off. eagerly we looked to the westward, but no wagon-train appeared. we began to fear that something had happened to our friends, when, suddenly one of the indians jumped up, and with every evidence of excitement signaled to the others. in an instant they were all mounted. "they hear the crack of the bull-whip," said woods. he was right. without another glance in our direction the sioux galloped away toward the foot-hills, and as they disappeared we heard the welcome snap of the long bull-whip, and saw the first of our wagons coming up the trail. in that day, however, the plainsman was delivered out of one peril only to be plunged into another. his days seldom dragged for want of excitement. when we got to leavenworth, simpson sent three of us ahead with the train-book record of the men's time, so that their money would be ready for them when they arrived at leavenworth. our boss's admonition to ride only at night and to lie under cover in daytime was hardly needed. we cared for no more indian adventures just then. we made fairly good progress till we got to the little blue, in colorado. it was an uncomfortable journey, finding our way by the stars at night and lying all day in such shelters as were to be found. but the inconvenience of it was far preferable to being made targets for indian arrows. we were sheltered one night from one of the fearful prairie blizzards that make fall and winter terrible. we had found a gulley washed out by an autumn storm, and it afforded a little protection against the wind. looking down the ravine i saw ponies moving. i knew there were indians near, and we looked about for a hiding-place. at the head of the ravine i had noticed a cave-like hollow. i signaled to the two men to follow me, and soon we were snug in a safe hiding-place. as we were settling down to rest one of the men lit his pipe. as the cave was illuminated by the glow of the match there was a wild yell. i thought all the indians in the world had jumped us. but the yell had come from my companions. we were in the exact center of the most grew-some collection of human skulls and bones i have ever seen. bones were strewn on the floor of the cave like driftwood. skulls were grinning at us from every corner of the darkness. we had stumbled into a big grave where some of the indians had hidden their dead away from the wolves after a battle. it may be that none of us were superstitious, but we got out of there in a hurry, and braved the peril of the storm and the indians as best we could. i was a rich boy when i got to leavenworth. i had nearly a thousand dollars to turn over to my mother as soon as i should draw my pay. after a joyful reunion with the family i hitched up a pair of ponies, and drove her over so that she could witness this pleasing ceremony. as we were driving home, i heard her sobbing, and was deeply concerned, for this seemed to me no occasion for tears. i was quick to ask the reason, and her answer made me serious. "you couldn't even write your name, willie," she said. "you couldn't sign the payroll. to think my boy cannot so much as write his name!" i thought that over all the way home, and determined it should never happen again. in uncle aleck majors' book, "seventy years on the frontier," he relates how on every wagon-sheet and wagon-bed, on every tree and barn door, he used to find the name "william f. cody" in a large, uncertain scrawl. those were my writing lessons, and i took them daily until i had my signature plastered pretty well over the whole of salt creek valley. i went to school for a time after that, and at last began really to take an interest in education. but the pike's peak gold rush took me with it. i could never resist the call of the trail. with another boy who knew as little of gold-mining as i did we hired out with a bull-train for denver, then called aurora. we each had fifty dollars when we got to the gold country, and with it we bought an elaborate outfit. but there was no mining to be done save by expensive machinery, and we had our labor for our pains. at last, both of us strapped, we got work as timber cutters, which lasted only until we found it would take us a week to fell a tree. at last we hired out once more as bull-whackers. that job we understood, and at it we earned enough money to take us home. we hired a carpenter to build us a boat, loaded it with grub and supplies, and started gayly down the platte for home. but the bad luck of that trip held steadily. the boat was overturned in swift and shallow water, and we were stranded, wet and helpless, on the bank, many miles from home or anywhere else. then a miracle happened. along the trail we heard the familiar crack of a bull-whip, and when the train came up we found it was the same with which we had enlisted for the outward journey, returning to denver with mining machinery. among this machinery was a big steam-boiler, the first to be taken into colorado. on the way out the outfit had been jumped by indians. the wagon boss, knowing the red man's fear of cannon, had swung the great boiler around so that it had appeared to point at them. never was so big a cannon. even the 42-centimeter howitzers of today could not compare with it. the indians took one look at it, then departed that part of the country as fast as their ponies could travel. we stuck with the train into denver and back home again, and glad we were to retire from gold-mining. soon after my return to salt creek valley i decided on another and, i thought, a better way to make a fortune for myself and my family. during my stay in and about fort laramie i had seen much of the indian traders, and accompanied them on a number of expeditions. their business was to sell to the indians various things they needed, chiefly guns and ammunition, and to take in return the current indian coin, which consisted of furs. with the supplies bought by the money i had earned on the trip with simpson, mother and my sisters were fairly comfortable. i felt that i should be able to embark in the fur business on my own account--not as a trader but as a trapper. with my friend dave harrington as a companion i set out. harrington was older than i, and had trapped before in the rockies. i was sure that with my knowledge of the plains and his of the ways of the fur-bearing animals, we should form an excellent partnership, as in truth we did. we bought a yoke of oxen, a wagon-sheet, wagon, traps of all sorts, and strychnine with which to poison wolves. also we laid in a supply of grub--no luxuries, but coffee, flour, bacon and everything that we actually needed to sustain life. we headed west, and about two hundred miles from home we struck prairie creek, where we found abundant signs of beaver, mink, otter and other fur-bearing animals. no indians had troubled us, and we felt safe in establishing headquarters here and beginning work. the first task was to build a dugout in a hillside, which we roofed with brush, long grass, and finally dirt, making everything snug and cozy. a little fireplace in the wall served as both furnace and kitchen. outside we built a corral for the oxen, which completed our camp. our trapping was successful from the start, and we were sure that prosperity was at last in sight. we set our steel traps along the "runs" used by the animals, taking great care to hide our tracks, and give the game no indication of the presence of an enemy. the pelts began to pile up in our shack. most of the day we were busy at the traps, or skinning and salting the hides, and at night we would sit by our little fire and swap experiences till we fell asleep. always there was the wail of the coyotes and the cries of other animals without, but as long as we saw no indians we were not worried. one night, just as we were dozing off, we heard a tremendous commotion in the corral. harrington grabbed his gun and hurried out. he was just in time to see a big bear throw one of our oxen and proceed with the work of butchering him. he fired, and the bear, slightly wounded, left the ox and turned his attention to his assailant. he was leaping at my partner, growling savagely when i, gun in hand, rounded the corner of the shack. i took the best aim i could get in the dark, and the bear, which was within a few feet of my friend, rolled over dead. making sure that he was past harming us we turned our attention to the poor bull, but he was too far gone to recover, and another bullet put him out of his misery. we were now left without a team, and two hundred miles from home. but wealth in the shape of pelts was accumulating about us, and we determined to stick it out till spring. then one of us could go to the nearest settlement for a teammate for our remaining steer, while the other stayed in charge of the camp. this plan had to be carried out far sooner than we expected. a few days later we espied a herd of elk, which meant plentiful and excellent meat. we at once started in pursuit. creeping stealthily along toward them, keeping out of sight, and awaiting an opportunity to get a good shot, i slipped on a stone in the creek bed. "snap!" went something and looking down i saw my foot hanging useless. i had broken my leg just above the ankle and my present career as a fur-trapper had ended. i was very miserable when harrington came up. i urged him to shoot me as he had the ox, but he laughingly replied that that would hardly do. "i'll bring you out all right!" he said. "i owe you a life anyway for saving me from that bear. i learned a little something about surgery when i was in illinois, and i guess i can fix you up." he got me back to camp after a long and painful hour and with a wagon-bow, which he made into a splint, set the fracture. but our enterprise was at an end. help would have to be found now, and before spring. one man and a cripple could never get through the winter. it was determined that harrington must go for this needful assistance just as soon as possible. he placed me on our little bunk, with plenty of blankets to cover me. all our provisions he put within my reach. a cup was lashed to a long sapling, and harrington made a hole in the side of the dugout so that i could reach this cup out to a snow-bank for my water supply. lastly he cut a great pile of wood and heaped it near the fire. without leaving the bunk i could thus do a little cooking, keep the fire up, and eat and sleep. it was not a situation that i would have chosen, but there was nothing else to do. the nearest settlement was a hundred and twenty-five miles distant. harrington figured that he could make the round trip in twenty days. my supplies were ample to last that long. i urged him to start as soon as possible, that he might the sooner return with a new yoke of oxen. then i could be hauled out to where medical attendance was to be had. i watched him start off afoot, and my heart was heavy. but soon i stopped thinking of my pain and began to find ways and means to cure my loneliness. we had brought with us a number of books, and these i read through most of my waking hours. but the days grew longer and longer for all that. every morning when i woke i cut a notch in a long stick to mark its coming. i had cut twelve of these notches when one morning i was awakened from a sound sleep by the touch of a hand on my shoulder. instantly concluding that harrington had returned, i was about to cry out in delight when i caught a glimpse of a war-bonnet, surmounting the ugly, painted face of a sioux brave. the brilliant colors that had been smeared on his visage told me more forcibly than words could have done that his tribe was on the warpath. it was a decidedly unpleasant discovery for me. while he was asking me in the sioux language what i was doing there, and how many more were in the party, other braves began crowding through the door till the little dugout was packed as full of sioux warriors as it could hold. outside i could hear the stamping of horses and the voices of more warriors. i made up my mind it was all over but the scalping. and then a stately old brave worked his way through the crowd and came toward my bunk. it was plain from the deference accorded him by the others that he was a chief. and as soon as i set eyes on him i recognized him as old rain-in-the-face, whom i had often seen and talked with at fort laramie, and whose children taught me the sioux language as we played about the wagon-beds together. among these children was the son who succeeded to the name of rain-in-the-face, and who years later, it is asserted, killed general george a. custer in the massacre of the little big horn. i showed the chief my broken leg, and asked him if he did not remember me. he replied that he did. i asked him if he intended to kill the boy who had been his children's playmate. he consulted with his warriors, who had begun busily to loot the cabin. after a long parley the old man told me that my life would be spared, but my gun and pistol and all my provisions would be regarded as the spoils of the war. vainly i pointed out that he might as well kill me as leave me without food or the means to defend myself against wolves. he said that his young men had granted a great deal in consenting to spare my life. as for food, he pointed to the carcass of a deer that hung from the wall. the next morning they mounted their ponies and galloped away. i was glad enough to see them go. i knew that my life had hung by a thread while i had been their involuntary host. only my friendship with the children of old rain-in-the-face had saved me. but, even with the indians gone, i was in a desperate situation. as they had taken all my matches i had to keep the fire going continuously. this meant that i could not sleep long at a time, the lack of rest soon began to tell on me. i would cut slices from the deer carcass with my knife, and holding it over the fire with a long stick, cook it, eating it without salt. coffee i must do without altogether. the second day after the departure of the indians a great snow fell. the drifts blocked the doorway and covered the windows. it lay to a depth of several feet on the roof over my head. my woodpile was covered by the snow that drifted in and it was with great difficulty that i could get enough wood to keep my little fire going. and on that fire depended my life. worse than all these troubles was the knowledge that the heavy snow would be sure to delay harrington. i would lie there, day after day, a prey to all sorts of dark imaginings. i fancied him killed by indians on the trail, or snowbound and starving on the plains. each morning my notches on my calendar stick were made. gradually their number grew till at last the twentieth was duly cut. but no harrington came. the wolves, smelling meat within, had now begun to gather round in increasing numbers. they made the night hideous with their howlings, and pawed and scratched and dug at the snow by the doorway, determined to come in and make a meal of everything the dugout contained, myself included. how i endured it i do not know. but the plains teach men and boys fortitude. many and many a time as i lay there i resolved that if i should ever be spared to go back to my home and friends, the frontier should know me no more. it was on the twenty-ninth day, as marked on stick, when i had about given up hope, that i heard a cheerful voice shouting "whoa!" and recognized it as the voice of harrington. a criminal on the scafford with the noose about his neck and the trap sagging underneath his feet could not have welcomed a pardon more eagerly than i welcomed my deliverance out of this torture-chamber. i could make no effort to open the door for him. but i found voice to answer him when he cried "hello, billy!" and in response to his question assured him that i was all right. he soon cleared a passageway through the snow, and stood beside me. "i never expected to see you alive again," he said; "i had a terrible trip. i didn't think i should ever get through--caught in the snowstorm and laid up for three days. the cattle wandered away and i came within an ace of losing them altogether. when i got started again the snow was so deep i couldn't make much headway." "well, you're here," i said, giving him a hug. harrington had made a trip few men could have made. he had risked his life to save mine. all alone he had brought a yoke of oxen over a country where the trails were all obscured and the blinding snow made every added mile more perilous. i was still unable to walk, and he had to do all the work of packing up for the trip home. in a few days he had loaded the pelts on board the wagon, covered it with the wagon-sheet we had used in the dugout, and made me a comfortable bed inside. we had three hundred beaver and one hundred otter skins to show for our work. that meant a lot of money when we should get them to the settlements. on the eighth day of the journey home we reached a ranch on the republican river, where we rested for a couple of days. then we went on to the ranch where harrington had obtained his cattle and paid for the yoke with twenty-five beaver skins, the equivalent of a hundred dollars in money. at the end of twenty days' travel we reached salt creek valley, where i was welcomed by my mother and sisters as one returned from the dead. so grateful was my mother to harrington for what he had done for me that she insisted on his making his home with us. this he decided to do, and took charge of our farm. the next spring, this man, who had safely weathered the most perilous of journeys over the plains, caught cold while setting out some trees and fell ill. we brought a doctor from lawrence, and did everything in our power to save him, but in a week he died. the loss of a member of our own family could not have affected us more. i was now in my fifteenth year and possessed of a growing appetite for adventure. a very few months had so dulled the memory of my sufferings in the dugout that i had forgotten all about my resolve to forsake the frontier forever. i looked about me for something new and still more exciting. i was not long in finding it. in april, 1860, the firm of russell, majors & waddell organized the wonderful "pony express," the most picturesque messenger-service that this country has ever seen. the route was from st. joseph, missouri, to sacramento, california, a distance of two thousand miles, across the plains, over a dreary stretch of sagebrush and alkali desert, and through two great mountain ranges. the system was really a relay race against time. stations were built at intervals averaging fifteen miles apart. a rider's route covered three stations, with an exchange of horses at each, so that he was expected at the beginning to cover close to forty-five miles--a good ride when one must average fifteen miles an hour. the firm undertaking the enterprise had been busy for some time picking the best ponies to be had for money, and the lightest, most wiry and most experienced riders. this was a life that appealed to me, and i struck for a job. i was pretty young in years, but i had already earned a reputation for coming safe out of perilous adventures, and i was hired. naturally our equipment was the very lightest. the messages which we carried were written on the thinnest paper to be found. these we carried in a waterproof pouch, slung under our arms. we wore only such clothing as was absolutely necessary. the first trip of the pony express was made in ten days--an average of two hundred miles a day. but we soon began stretching our riders and making better time. soon we shortened the time to eight days. president buchanan's last presidential message in december, 1860, was carried in eight days. president lincoln's inaugural, the following march, took only seven days and seventeen hours for the journey between st. joseph and sacramento. we soon got used to the work. when it became apparent to the men in charge that the boys could do better than forty-five miles a day the stretches were lengthened. the pay of the rider was from $100 to $125 a month. it was announced that the further a man rode the better would be his pay. that put speed and endurance into all of us. stern necessity often compelled us to lengthen our day's work even beyond our desires. in the hostile indian country, riders were frequently shot. in such an event the man whose relief had been killed had to ride on to the next station, doing two men's ride. road-agents were another menace, and often they proved as deadly as the indians. in stretching my own route i found myself getting further and further west. finally i was riding well into the foothills of the rockies. still further west my route was pushed. soon i rode from red buttes to sweetwater, a distance of seventy-six miles. road-agents and indians infested this country. i never was quite sure when i started out when i should reach my destination, or whether i should never reach it at all. one day i galloped into the station at three crossings to find that my relief had been killed in a drunken row the night before. there was no one to take his place. his route was eighty-five miles across country to the west. i had no time to think it over. selecting a good pony out of the stables i was soon on my way. i arrived at rocky ridge, the end of the new route, on schedule time, and turning back came on to red buttes, my starting-place. the round trip was 320 miles, and i made it in twenty-one hours and forty minutes. excitement was plentiful during my two years' service as a pony express rider. one day as i was leaving horse creek, a party of fifteen indians jammed me in a sand ravine eight miles west of the station. they fired at me repeatedly, but my luck held, and i went unscathed. my mount was a california roan pony, the fastest in the stables. i dug the spurs into his sides, and, lying flat on his back, i kept straight on for sweetwater bridge eleven miles distant. a turn back to horse creek might have brought me more speedily to shelter, but i did not dare risk it. the indians came on behind, riding with all the speed they could put into their horses, but my pony drew rapidly ahead. i had a lead of two miles when i reached the station. there i found i could get no new pony. the stock-tender had been killed by the indians during the night. all his ponies had been stolen and driven off. i kept on, therefore, to plonts station, twelve miles further along, riding the same pony--a ride of twenty-four miles on one mount. at plonts i told the people what had happened at sweetwater bridge. then, with a fresh horse, i finished my route without further adventure. [illustration: pursued by fifteen bloodthirsty indians, i had a running fight of eleven miles] chapter ii about the middle of september the indians became very troublesome on the line of the stage along the sweetwater, between split rock and three crossings. a stage had been robbed and two passengers killed outright. lem flowers, the driver, was badly wounded. the thievish redskins also drove stock repeatedly from the stations. they were continually lying in wait for passing stages and pony express riders. it was useless to keep the express going until these depredations could be stopped. a lay-off of six weeks was ordered, and our time was our own. while we were thus idle a party was organized to carry the war into the indians' own country, and teach them that the white man's property must be let alone. this party i joined. stage-drivers, express-riders, stock-tenders and ranchmen, forty in number, composed this party. all were well armed; all were good shots, and brave, determined men. "wild bill" hickock, another of the western gunmen of whom i shall have something to tell later, was captain of the expedition. he had come recently to our division as a stage-driver and had the experience and courage necessary to that kind of leadership. twenty miles out from sweetwater bridge, at the head of horse creek, we found an indian trail running north toward powder river. we could see that the horses had been recently shod, conclusive proof that they were our stolen stock. we pushed on as fast as we could along the trail to the powder, thence down this stream to within forty miles of where old fort reno now stands. farther on, at crazy woman's fork, we saw evidence that another party had joined our quarry. the trail was newly made. the indians could be hardly more than twenty-four hours ahead of us. and plainly there was a lot of them. when we reached clear creek, another tributary of the powder, we saw horses grazing on the opposite bank. horses meant indians. never before had the redskins been followed so far into their own country. not dreaming that they would be pursued they had failed to put out scouts. we quickly got the "lay" of their camp, and held a council to decide on how to attack them. we knew that they outnumbered us three to one--perhaps more. without strategy, all we would get for our long chase would be the loss of our scalps. "wild bill," who did not know the meaning of fear, made our plan for us. we were to wait till nightfall, and then, after creeping up as close as possible on the camp, make a grand ride right through it, open a general fire upon them, and stampede their horses. it was a plan that called for nerve, but we were full of spirit, and the more danger there was in an enterprise the more we relished it. at our captain's signal we rushed pell-mell through their camp. had we dropped from the clouds the indians could not have been more astonished. at the sound of our shots they scattered in every direction, yelling warnings to each other as they fled. once clear of the camp we circled to the south and came back to make sure that we had done a thorough job. a few parting shots stampeded the stragglers. then, with one hundred captured ponies--most, if not all of them, stolen from the express and state stations--we rode back to sweetwater bridge. the recovered horses were placed on the road again, and the express was resumed. slade, who was greatly pleased with our exploit, now assigned me as special or supernumerary rider. thereafter while i was with him i had a comparatively easy time of it, riding only now and then, and having plenty of opportunity for seeking after the new adventures in which i delighted. alf slade, stage-line superintendent, frontiersman, and dare-devil fighting man, was one of the far-famed gunmen of the plains. these were a race of men bred by the perils and hard conditions of western life. they became man-killers first from stern necessity. in that day the man who was not quick on the trigger had little chance with the outlaws among whom he had to live. slade and "wild bill," with both of whom i became closely associated, were men of nerve and courage. but both, having earned the reputation of gun-fighters, became too eager to live up to it. eventually both became outlaws. slade, though always a dangerous man, and extremely rough in his manner, never failed to treat me with kindness. sober, he was cool and self-possessed, but never a man to be trifled with. drunk, he was a living fury. his services to the company for which he worked were of high value. he was easily the best superintendent on the line. but his habit of man-killing at last resulted in his execution. another man who gained even greater notoriety than slade was "wild bill" hickock, a tall, yellow-haired giant who had done splendid service as a scout in the western sector of the civil war. "wild bill" i had known since 1857. he and i shared the pleasure of walking a thousand miles to the missouri river, after the bull-train in which we both were employed had been burned by lot smith, the mormon raider. afterward we rode the pony express together. while an express rider, bill had the fight with the mccandless gang which will always form an interesting chapter in the history of the west. coming into his swing station at rock creek one day, bill failed to arouse any one with his shouts for a fresh mount. this was a certain indication of trouble. it was the stock-tender's business to be on hand with a relief pony the instant the rider came in. the pony express did not tolerate delays. galloping into the yard, bill dismounted and hurried to the stable. in the door he saw the stock-tender lying dead, and at the same instant a woman's screams rang from the cabin near by. turning about, bill found himself face to face with a ruffian who was rushing from the house, brandishing a six-shooter. he asked no questions, but pulled one of the two guns he carried and fired. no sooner had the man fallen, however, than a second, also armed, came out of the house. hickock disposed of this fellow also, and then entered the place, where four others opened a fusillade on him. although the room was thick with smoke, and bill had to use extreme care to avoid hitting the woman, who was screaming in the corner, he managed to kill two of his assailants with his revolvers and to ward off a blow with a rifle a third had leveled at him. the blow knocked the weapon from his hand, but his knife was still left him, and with it he put the man with the rifle out of the way. his troubles were not at an end, however. another man came climbing in the window to avenge his fellow gangsters. bill reached for a rifle which lay on the floor and shot first. when he took count a few minutes later he discovered that he had killed five men and wounded a sixth, who escaped in the thick of the fight. the woman, who had been knocked unconscious by one of the desperadoes, was soon revived. she was the stock-tender's wife, and had been attacked the by gang as soon as they had slain her husband. the passengers of the overland stage, which rolled in as bill was reviving the terrified woman, were given a view of western life which none of them ever forgot. bill was the hero of the occasion, and a real hero he was, for probably never has a man won such a victory against such terrific odds in all the history of the war against the ruffians of the west. it was at springfield, missouri, that bill had his celebrated fight with dave tutt. the fight put an end to tutt's career. i was a personal witness to another of his gun exploits, in which, though the chances were all against him, he protected his own life and incidentally his money. an inveterate poker player, he got into a game in springfield with big players and for high stakes. sitting by the table, i noticed that he seemed sleepy and inattentive. so i kept a close watch on the other fellows. presently i observed that one of his opponents was occasionally dropping a card in his hat, which he held in his lap, until a number of cards had been laid away for future use in the game. the pot had gone around several times and was steadily raised by some of the players, bill staying right along, though he still seemed to be drowsy. the bets kept rising. at last the man with the hatful of cards picked a hand out of his reserves, put the hat on his head and raised bill two hundred dollars. bill came back with a raise of two hundred, and as the other covered it he quietly shoved a pistol into his face and observed: "i am calling the hand that is in your hat!" [illustration: he shoved a pistol in the man's face and said "i'm calling the hand that's in your hat"] gathering in the pot with his left hand, he held the pistol with his right and inquired if any of the players had any objections to offer. they hastened to reply that they had no objections whatever and we went away from there. "bill," i said, when we were well outside the place, "i had been noticing that fellow's play right along, but i thought you hadn't. i was going to get into the game myself if he beat you out of that money." "billy," replied hickock, "i don't want you ever to learn it, but that is one of my favorite poker tricks. it always wins against crooked players." not all of the gunmen of the west began straight. some of them--many, in fact--were thieves and murderers from the beginning. such were the members of the mccandless gang, which hickock disposed of so thoroughly. all along the stage route were robbers and man-killers far more vicious than the indians. very early in my career as a frontiersman i had an encounter with a party of these from which i was extremely fortunate to escape with my life. i employed the leisure afforded me by my assignment as an extra rider in hunting excursions, in which i took a keen delight. i was returning home empty-handed from a bear hunt, when night overtook me in a lonely spot near a mountain stream. i had killed two sage-hens and built a little fire over which to broil them before my night's rest. suddenly i heard a horse whinny farther up the stream. thinking instantly of indians, i ran quickly to my own horse to prevent him from answering the call, and thus revealing my presence. filled with uneasiness as to who and what my human neighbors might be, i resaddled my horse, and, leaving him tied where i could reach him in a hurry if need be, made my way up-stream to reconnoiter. as i came around a bend i received an unpleasant shock. not one horse, but fifteen horses, were grazing just ahead of me. on the opposite side of the creek a light shone high up the mountain bank--a light from the window of a dugout. i drew near very cautiously till i came within, sound of voices within the place, and discovered that its occupants were conversing in my own language. that relieved me. i knew the strangers to be white men. i supposed them to be trappers, and, walking boldly to the door, i knocked. instantly the voices ceased. there ensued absolute silence for a space, and then came-whisperings, and sounds of men quietly moving about the dirt floor. "who's there?" called someone. "a friend and a white man," i replied. the door opened, and a big, ugly-looking fellow stood before me. "come in," he ordered. i accepted the invitation with hesitation, but there was nothing else to do. to retreat would have meant pursuit and probably death. eight of the most villainous-appearing ruffians i have ever set eyes upon sat about the dugout as i entered. two of them i recognized at once as teamsters who had been employed by simpson a few months before. both had been charged with murdering a ranchman and stealing his horses. simpson had promptly discharged them, and it was supposed that they had left the country. i gave them no sign of recognition. i was laying my plans to get out of there as speedily as possible. i was now practically certain that i had uncovered the hiding-place of a gang of horse-thieves who could have no possible reason to feel anything but hostility toward an honest man. the leader of the gang swaggered toward me and inquired menacingly: "where are you going, young man, and who's with you?" "i am entirely alone," i returned. "i left horseshoe station this morning for a bear hunt. not finding any bears, i was going to camp out till morning. i heard one of your horses whinnying, and came up to your camp." "where is your horse?" "i left him down the creek." they proposed going for the horse, which was my only means of getting rid of their unwelcome society. i tried strategy to forestall them. "i'll go and get him," i said. "i'll leave my gun here." this, i fancied, would convince them that i intended to return, but it didn't. "jim and i will go with you," said one of the thieves. "you can leave your gun here if you want to. you won't need it." i saw that if i was to get away at all i would have to be extremely alert. these were old hands, and were not to be easily fooled. i felt it safer, however, to trust myself with two men than with six, so i volunteered to show the precious pair where i had left the horse, and led them to my camp. the animal was secured, and as one of the men started to lead him up the stream i picked up the two sage-hens i had intended for my evening meal. the more closely we approached the dugout the less i liked the prospect of reã«ntering it. one plan of escape had failed. i was sure the ruffians had no intention of permitting me to leave them and inform the stage people of their presence in the country. one more plan suggested itself to me, and i lost no time in trying it. dropping one of the sage-hens, i asked the man behind me to pick it up. as he was groping for it in the darkness, i pulled one of my colt's revolvers, and hit him a terrific blow over the head. he dropped to the ground, senseless. wheeling about, i saw that the other man, hearing the fall, had turned, his hand upon his revolver. it was no time for argument. i fired and killed him. then, leaping on my horse, i dug the spurs into his sides, and back down the trail we went, over the rocks and rough ground toward safety. [illustration: it was no time for argument. i fired, and killed him] my peril was far from past. at the sound of the shot the six men in the dugout tumbled forth in hot haste. they stopped an instant at the scene of the shooting, possibly to revive the man i had stunned and to learn from him what had happened. they were too wise to mount their horses, knowing that, afoot, they could make better time over the rocky country than i could on horseback. steadily i heard them gaining, and soon made up my mind that if i was to evade them at all i must abandon my horse. jumping off, i gave him a smart slap with the butt of my revolver which sent him down the valley. i turned and began to scramble up the mountainside. i had climbed hardly forty feet when i heard them pass, following the sound of my horse's feet. i dodged behind a tree as they went by, and when i heard them firing farther down the trail i worked my way up the mountainside. it was twenty-five miles to horseshoe station, and very hard traveling the first part of the way. but i got to the station, just before daylight, weary and footsore, but exceedingly thankful. tired as i was, i woke up the men at the station and told them of my adventure. slade himself led the party that set out to capture my former hosts, and i went along, though nearly beat out. twenty of us, after a brisk ride, reached the dugout at ten o'clock in the morning. but the thieves had gone. we found a newly made grave where they had buried the man i had to kill, and a trail leading southwest toward denver. that was all. but my adventure at least resulted in clearing the country of horse-thieves. once the gang had gone, no more depredations occurred for a long time. after a year's absence from home i began to long to see my mother and sisters again. in june, 1861, i got a pass over the stage-line, and returned to leavenworth. the first rumblings of the great struggle that was soon to be known as the civil war were already reverberating throughout the north; sumter had been fired upon in april of that year. kansas, as every schoolboy knows, was previously the bloody scene of some of the earliest conflicts. my mother's sympathies were strongly with the union. she knew that war was bound to come, but so confident was she in the strength of the federal government that she devoutly believed that the struggle could not last longer than six months at the utmost. fort leavenworth and the town of leavenworth were still important outfitting posts for the soldiers in the west and southwest. the fort was strongly garrisoned by regular troops. volunteers were undergoing training. many of my boyhood friends were enlisting. i was eager to join them. but i was still the breadwinner of the family, the sole support of my sisters and my invalid mother. not because of this, but because of her love for me, my mother exacted from me a promise that i would not enlist for the war while she lived. but during the summer of 1861 a purely local company, know as the red-legged scouts, and commanded by captain bill tuff, was organized. this i felt i could join without breaking my promise not to enlist for the war, and join it i did. the red-legged scouts, while they coã¶perated with the regular army along the borders of missouri, had for their specific duty the protection of kansas against raiders like quantrell, and such bandits as the james boys, the younger brothers, and other desperadoes who conducted a guerrilla warfare against union settlers. we had plenty to do. the guerrillas were daring fellows and kept us busy. they robbed banks, raided villages, burned buildings, and looted and plundered wherever there was loot or plunder to be had. but tuff was the same kind of a fighting man as they, and working in a better cause. with his scouts he put the fear of the law into the hearts of the guerrillas, and they notably decreased their depredations in consequence. whenever and wherever we found that the scattered bands were getting together for a general raid we would at once notify the regulars at fort scott or fort leavenworth to be ready for them. quantrell once managed to collect a thousand men in a hurry, and to raid and sack lawrence before the troops could head them off. but when we got on their trail they were driven speedily back into missouri. in the meantime we took care that little mischief was done by the gangs headed by the james boys and the youngers, who operated in quantrell's wake and in small bands. in the spring of '63 i left the red-legged scouts to serve the federal government as guide and scout with the ninth kansas cavalry. the kiowas and comanches were giving trouble along the old santa fe trail and among the settlements of western kansas. the ninth kansas were sent to tame them and to protect immigrants and settlers. this was work that i well understood. we had a lively summer, for the indians kept things stirring, but after a summer of hard fighting we made them understand that the great white chief was a power that the indians had better not irritate. november, '63, i returned with the command to leavenworth. i had money in my pockets, for my pay had been $150 a month, and i was able to lay in an abundant supply of provisions for my family. on the twenty-third day of december my mother passed away. her life had been an extremely hard one, but she had borne up bravely under poverty and privation, supplying with her own teaching the education that the frontier schools could not give her children, and by her christian example setting them all on a straight road through life. border ruffians killed her husband, almost within sight of her home. she passed months in terror and distress and, until i became old enough to provide for her, often suffered from direst poverty. yet she never complained for herself; her only thoughts being for her children and the sufferings that were visited upon them because of their necessary upbringing in a rough and wild country. my sister julia was now married to al goodman, a fine and capable young man, and i was free to follow the promptings of an adventurous nature and go where my companions were fighting. in january, 1864, the seventh kansas volunteers came to leavenworth from the south, where they had been fighting since the early years of the war. among them i found many of my old friends and schoolmates. i was no longer under promise not to take part in the war and i enlisted as a private. in march of that year the regiment was embarked on steamboats and sent to memphis, tennessee, where we joined the command of general a.j. smith. general smith was organizing an army to fight the illiterate but brilliant confederate general forrest, who was then making a great deal of trouble in southern tennessee. while we were mobilizing near memphis, colonel herrick of our regiment recommended me to general smith for membership in a picked corps to be used for duty as scouts, messengers, and dispatch carriers. colonel herrick recounted my history as a plainsman, which convinced the commander that i would be useful in this special line of duty. when i reported to general smith, he invited me into his tent and inquired minutely into my life as a scout. "you ought to be able to render me valuable service," he said. when i replied that i should be only too glad to do so, he got out a map of tennessee, and on it showed me where he believed general forrest's command to be located. his best information was that the confederate commander was then in the neighborhood of okolona, mississippi, about two hundred miles south, of memphis. he instructed me to disguise myself as a tennessee boy, to provide myself with a farm horse from the stock in the camp, and to try to locate forrest's main command. having accomplished this, i was to gather all the information possible concerning the enemy's strength in men and equipment and defenses, and to make my way back as speedily as possible. general smith expected to start south the following morning, and he showed me on the map the wagon road he planned to follow, so that i might know where to find him on my return. he told me before we parted that the mission on which he was sending me was exceedingly dangerous. "if you are captured," he said, "you will be shot as a spy." to this i replied that my indian scouting trips had been equally dangerous, as capture meant torture and death, yet i had always willingly undertaken them. "do you think you can find forrest's army?" he said. "well, if you can't find an army as big as that you're a mighty poor scout," he said grimly. general smith then turned me over to the man who was in charge of what was called "the refuge herd," from which i found a mount built on the lines of the average tennessee farm horse. this man also provided me with a suit of farmer's clothing, for which i exchanged my new soldier uniform, and a bag of provisions. leading me about a mile from camp, he left me with the warning: "look out, young fellow. you're taking a dangerous trip." then we shook hands and i began my journey. i had studied carefully the map general smith had shown me, and had a fairly accurate idea of the direction i was supposed to take. following a wagon road that led to the south, i made nearly sixty miles the first night. the mare i had chosen proved a good traveler. when morning came i saw a big plantation, with the owner's and negroes' houses, just ahead of me. i was anxious to learn how my disguise was going to work, and therefore rode boldly up to the house of the overseer and asked if i could get rest and some sort of breakfast. in response to his inquiries i said i was a tennesseean and on my way to holly springs. i used my best imitation of the southern dialect, which i can still use on occasion, and it was perfectly successful. i was given breakfast, my mare was fed, and i slept most of the day in a haystack, taking up my journey again immediately after dinner. thereafter i had confidence in my disguise, and, while making no effort to fall into conversation with people, i did not put myself out to evade anyone whom i met. none of those with whom i talked suspected me of being a northern spy. at the end of a few days i saw that i was near a large body of troops. it was in the morning after a hard day-and-night ride. fearing to approach the outposts looking weary and fagged out, i rested for an hour, and then rode up and accosted one of them. to his challenge i said i was a country boy, and had come in to see the soldiers. my father and brother, i said, were fighting with forrest, and i was almost persuaded to enlist myself. my story satisfied the guard and i was passed. a little farther on i obtained permission to pasture my horse with a herd of animals belonging to the confederates and, afoot, i proceeded to the camp of the soldiers. by acting the part of the rural tennesseean, making little purchases from the negro food-stands, and staring open-mouthed at all the camp life, i picked up a great deal of information without once falling under suspicion. the question now uppermost in my mind was how i was going to get away. toward evening i returned to the pasture, saddled my mare and rode to the picket line where i had entered. here, to my dismay, i discovered that the outposts had been recently changed. but i used the same story that had gained admission for me. in a sack tied to my saddle were the food supplies i had bought from the negroes during the day. these, i explained to the outposts, were intended as presents for my mother and sisters back on the farm. they examined the sack, and, finding nothing contraband in it, allowed me to pass. i now made all possible speed northward, keeping out of sight of houses and of strangers. on the second day i passed several detachments of forrest's troops, but my training as a scout enabled me to keep them from seeing me. though my mare had proven herself an animal of splendid endurance, i had to stop and rest her occasionally. at such times i kept closely hidden. it was on the second morning after leaving forrest's command that i sighted the advance guard of smith's army. they halted me when i rode up, and for a time i had more trouble with them than i had had with any of forrest's men. i was not alarmed, however, and when the captain told me that he would have to send me to the rear, i surprised him by asking to see general smith. "are you anxious to see a big, fighting general?" he asked in amazement. "yes," i said. "i hear that general smith can whip forrest, and i would like to see any man who can do that." without any promises i was sent to the rear, and presently i noticed general smith, who, however, failed to recognize me. i managed, however, to draw near to him and ask him if i might speak to him for a moment. believing me to be a confederate prisoner, he assented, and when i had saluted i said: "general, i am billy cody, the man you sent out to the confederate lines." "report back to your charge," said the general to the officer who had me in custody. "i will take care of this man." my commander was much pleased with my report, which proved to be extremely accurate and valuable. the disguise he had failed to penetrate did not deceive my comrades of the ninth kansas, and when i passed them they all called me by name and asked me where i had been. but my news was for my superior officers, and i did not need the warning colonel herrick gave me to keep my mouth shut while among the soldiers. general smith, to whom i later made a full detailed report, had spoken highly of my work to colonel herrick, who was gratified to know that his choice of a scout had been justified by results. it was not long before the whole command knew of my return, but beyond the fact that i had been on a scouting expedition, and had brought back information much desired by the commander, they knew nothing of my journey. the next morning, still riding the same mare and still wearing my tennessee clothes, i rode out with the entire command in the direction of forrest's army. before i had traveled five miles i had been pointed out to the entire command, and cheers greeted me on every side. as soon as an opportunity offered i got word with the general and asked if he had any further special orders for me. "just keep around," he said; "i may need you later on." "but i am a scout," i told him, "and the place for a scout is ahead of the army, getting information." "go ahead," he replied, "and if you see anything that i ought to know about come back and tell me." delighted to be a scout once more, i made my way forward. the general had given orders that i was to be allowed to pass in and out the lines at will, so that i was no longer hampered by the activities of my own friends. i had hardly got beyond the sound of the troops when i saw a beautiful plantation house, on the porch of which was a handsome old lady and her two attractive daughters. they were greatly alarmed when i came up, and asked if i didn't know that the yankee army would be along in a few minutes and that my life was in peril. all their own men folks, they said, were in hiding in the timber. "don't you sit here," begged the old lady, when i had seated myself on the porch to sip a glass of milk for which i had asked her. "the yankee troops will go right through this house. they will break up the piano and every stick of furniture, and leave the place in ruins. you are sure to be killed or taken prisoner." by this time the advance guard was coming up the road. general smith passed as i was standing on the porch. i saw that he had noticed me, though he gave no sign of having done so. as more troops passed, men began leaving their companies and rushing toward the house. i walked out and ordered them away in the name of the general. they all knew who i was, and obeyed, much to the astonishment of the old lady and her daughter. turning to my hostess, i said: "madam, i can't keep them out of your chicken-house or your smoke-house or your storerooms, but i can keep them out of your home, and i will." i remained on the porch till the entire command had passed. nothing was molested. much pleased, but still puzzled, the old lady was now convinced that i was no tennessee lad, but a sure-enough yankee, and one with a remarkable amount of influence. when i asked for a little something to eat in return for what i had done, the best there was in the house was spread before me. my hostess urged me to eat as speedily as possible, and be on my way. her men folks, she said, would soon return from the timber, and if they learned that i was a yank would shoot me on the spot. as she was speaking the back door was pushed open and three men rushed in. the old lady leaped between them and me. "don't shoot him!" she cried. "he has protected our property and our lives." but the men had no murderous intentions. "give him all he wants to eat," said the eldest, "and we will see that he gets back to the yankee lines in safety. we saw him from the treetops turn away the yanks as he stood on the porch." while i finished my meal they put all manner of questions to me, being specially impressed that a boy so young could have kept a great army from foraging so richly stocked a plantation. i told them that i was a union scout, and that i had saved their property on my own responsibility. "i knew you would be back here," i said. "but i was sure you wouldn't shoot me when you learned what i had done." "you bet your life we won't!" they said heartily. after dinner i was stocked tip with all the provisions i wanted, and given a fine bottle of peach brandy, the product of the plantation. then the men of the place escorted me to the rear-guard of the command, which i lost no time in joining. when i overtook the general and presented him with the peach brandy, he said gruffly: "i hear you kept all the men from foraging on that plantation back yonder." "yes, sir," i said. "an old lady and her two daughters were alone there. my mother had suffered from raids of hostile soldiers in kansas. i tried to protect that old lady, as i would have liked another man to protect my mother in her distress. i am sorry if i have disobeyed your orders and i am ready for any punishment you wish to inflict on me." "my boy," said the general, "you may be too good-hearted for a soldier, but you have done just what i would have done. my orders were to destroy all southern property. but we will forget your violation, of them." general smith kept straight on toward forrest's stronghold. ten miles from the spot where the enemy was encamped, he wheeled to the left and headed for tupedo, mississippi, reaching there at dark. forrest speedily discovered that smith did not intend to attack him on his own ground. so he broke camp, and, coming up to the rear, continued a hot fire through the next afternoon. arriving near tupedo, general smith selected, as a battleground, the crest of a ridge commanding the position forrest had taken up. between the two armies lay a plantation of four or five thousand acres. the next morning forrest dismounted some four thousand cavalry, and with cavalry and artillery on his left and right advanced upon our position. straight across the plantation they came, while smith rode back and forth behind the long breastworks that protected his men, cautioning them to reserve their fire till it could be made to tell. all our men were fighting with single shotguns. the first shot, in a close action, had to count, or a second one might never be fired. i had been detailed to follow smith as he rode to and fro. with an eye to coming out of the battle with a whole skin i had picked out a number of trees, behind which i proposed to drop my horse when the fighting got to close quarters. this was the fashion i had always employed in indian fighting. as the confederates got within good range, the order "fire!" rang out. at that instant i wheeled my horse behind a big oak tree. unhappily for me the general was looking directly at me as this maneuver was executed. when we had driven back and defeated forrest's men i was ordered to report at general smith's tent. "young man," said the general, when i stood before him, "you were recommended to me as an indian fighter. what were you doing behind that tree!" "that is the way we have to fight indians, sir," i said. "we get behind anything that offers protection." it was twelve years later that i convinced general smith that my theory of indian fighting was pretty correct. after the consolidation of the regular army, following the war, smith was sent to the plains as colonel of the seventh cavalry. this was afterward known as custer's regiment, and we engaged in the battle of the little big horn, in which that gallant commander was slain. smith's cavalry command was moving southward on an expedition against the kiowas and comanches in the canadian river country, when i joined it as a scout. dick curtis, acting as guide for smith, had been sent on ahead across the river, while the main command stopped to water their horses. curtis's orders were to proceed straight ahead for five miles, where the troops would camp. he was followed immediately by the advance guard, smith and his staff following on. we had proceeded about three miles when three or four hundred indians attacked us, jumping out of gullies and ravines, where they had been securely hidden. general smith at once ordered the orderlies to sound the recall and retreat, intending to fall back quickly on the main command. he was standing close beside a deep ravine as he gave the order. knowing that the plan he proposed meant the complete annihilation of our force, i pushed my horse close to him. "general," i said, "order your men into the ravine, dismount, and let number fours hold horses. then you will be able to stand off the indians. if you try to retreat to the main command you and every man under you will be killed before you have retreated a mile." he immediately saw the sense of my advice. issuing orders to enter the ravine, he dismounted with his men behind the bank. there we stood off the indians till the soldiers in the rear, hearing the shots, came charging to the rescue and drove the indians away. the rapidity with which we got into the ravine, and the protection its banks afforded us, enabled us to get away without losing a man. had the general's original plan been carried out none of us would have come away to tell the story. i was summoned to the general's tent that evening. "that was a brilliant suggestion of yours, young man," he said. "this indian fighting is a new business to me. i realize that if i had carried out my first order not a man of us would ever have reached the command alive." i said: "general, do you remember the battle of tupedo?" "i do," he said, with his chest expanding a little. "i was in command at that battle." the whipping of forrest had been a particularly difficult and unusual feat, and general smith never failed to show his pride in the achievement whenever the battle of tupedo was mentioned. "do you remember," i continued, "the young fellow you caught behind a tree, and sent for him afterward to ask him why he did so?" "is it possible you are the man who found forrest's command!" he asked in amazement. "i had often wondered what became of you," he said, when i told him i was the same man. "what have you been doing since the war!" i told him i had come west as a scout for general sherman in 1865 and had been scouting ever since. he was highly delighted to see me again, and from that time forward, as long as he remained on the plains, i resumed my old position as his chief scout. after the battle of tupedo, smith's command was ordered to memphis, and from there sent by boat up the mississippi. we of the cavalry disembarked at cape jardo, smith remaining behind with the infantry, which came on later. general sterling price, of the confederate army, was at this time coming out of arkansas into southern missouri with a large army. his purpose was to invade kansas. federal troops were not then plentiful in the west. smith's army from tennessee, blunt's troops from kansas, what few regulars there were in missouri, and some detachments of kansas volunteers were all being moved forward to head off price. being still a member of the ninth kansas cavalry, i now found myself back in my old country--just ahead of price's army, which had now reached the fertile northwestern missouri. in carrying dispatches from general mcneil to general blunt or general pleasanton i passed around and through price's army many times. i always wore the disguise of a confederate soldier, and always escaped detection. price fought hard and successfully, gaining ground steadily, till at westport, missouri, and other battlefields near the kansas line, the federal troops checked his advance. at the little blue, a stream that runs through what is now kansas city, he was finally turned south, and took up a course through southern kansas. near mound city a scouting party of which i was a member surprised a small detachment of price's army. our advantage was such that they surrendered, and while we were rounding them up i heard one of them say that we yanks had captured a bigger prize than we suspected. when he was asked what this prize consisted of, the soldier said: "that big man over yonder is general marmaduke of the southern army." i had heard much of marmaduke and greatly admired his dash and ability as a fighting man. going over to him, i asked if there was anything i could do to make him comfortable. he said that i could. he hadn't had a bite to eat, and he wanted some food and wanted it right away. he was surrounding a good lunch i had in my saddle-bag, while i was ransacking the saddle-bag of a comrade for a bottle of whisky which i knew to be there. when we turned our prisoners over to the main command i was put in charge of general marmaduke and accompanied him as his custodian to fort leavenworth. the general and i became fast friends, and our friendship lasted long after the war. years after he had finished his term as governor of missouri he visited me in london, where i was giving my wild west show. he was talking with me in my tent one day when the earl of lonsdale and lord harrington rode up, dismounted, and came over to where we were sitting. i presented marmaduke to them as the governor of one of america's greatest states and a famous confederate general. lonsdale, approaching and extending his hand, smiled and said: "ah, colonel cody, another one of your yankee friends, eh?" marmaduke, who had risen, scowled. but he held out his hand. "look here," he said, "i am much pleased to meet you, sir, but i want you first to understand distinctly that i am no yank." when i left general marmaduke at leavenworth and returned to my command, price was already in retreat. after driving him across the arkansas river i returned with my troop to springfield, missouri. from there i went, under general mcneil, to fort smith and other places on the arkansas border, where he had several lively skirmishes, and one big and serious engagement before the war was ended. the spring of 1865 found us again in springfield, where we remained about two months, recuperating and replenishing our stock. i now got a furlough of thirty days and went to st. louis, where i invested part of a thousand dollars i had saved in fashionable clothes and in rooms at one of the best hotels. it was while there that i met a young lady of a southern family, to whom i paid a great deal of attention, and from whom i finally extracted a promise that if i would come back to st. louis at the end of the war she would marry me. on my return to springfield i found an expedition in process of fitting out for a scouting trip through new mexico and into the arkansas river country, to look after the indians. with this party i took part in a number of indian fights and helped to save a number of immigrant trains from destruction. on our return to fort leavenworth we found general sanborn and a number of others of the former union leaders who had come to the border to make peace with the indians. the various tribes that roamed the plains had heard of the great war, and, believing that it had so exhausted the white man that he would fall an easy prey to indian aggression, had begun to arm themselves and make ready for great conquests. they had obtained great stores of arms and ammunition. during the last two years of the war they had been making repeated raids and inflicting vast damage on the settlers. at the close of the war, when the volunteers were discharged, i was left free to return to my old calling. the regular army was in course of consolidation. men who had been generals were compelled to serve as colonels and majors. the consolidated army's chief business was in the west, where the indians formed a real menace, and to the west came the famous fighting men under whose command i was destined to spend many of the eventful years to come. chapter iii at the close of the war, general william tecumseh sherman was placed at the head of the peace commission which had been sent to the border to take counsel with the indians. it had become necessary to put an end to the hostility of the red man immediately either by treaty or by force. his raids on the settlers could be endured no longer. the purpose of the party which sherman headed was to confer with the greatest of the hostile chiefs. treaties were to be agreed upon if possible. if negotiations for peace failed, the council would at least act as a stay of hostilities. the army was rapidly reorganizing, and it would soon be possible to mobilize enough troops to put down the indians in case they refused to come to terms peaceably. the camp of the kiowas and comanches--the first indians with whom sherman meant to deal--was about three hundred miles southwest of leavenworth, in the great buffalo range, and in the midst of the trackless plains. by ambulance and on horseback, with wagons to carry the supplies, the party set out for its first objective--council springs on the arkansas river, about sixty miles beyond old fort zarrah. i was chosen as one of the scouts or dispatch carriers to accompany the party. the guide was dick curtis, a plainsman of wide experience among the indians. when we arrived at fort zarrah we found that no road lay beyond, and learned that there was no water on the way. it was determined, therefore, to make a start at two o'clock in the morning. curtis said this would enable us to reach our destination, sixty-five miles further on, by two o'clock the next afternoon. the outfit consisted of two ambulances and one government wagon, which carried the tents and supplies. each officer had a horse to ride if he chose. if he preferred to ride in the ambulance his orderly was on hand to lead his horse for him. we traveled steadily till ten o'clock in the morning, through herds of buffalo whose numbers were past counting. i remember that general sherman estimated that the number of buffalo on the plains at that time must have been more than eleven million. it required all the energy of the soldiers and scouts to keep a road cleared through the herds so that the ambulance might pass. we breakfasted during the morning stop and rested the horses. for the men there was plenty of water, which we had brought along in canteens and camp kettles. there was also a little for the animals, enough to keep them from suffering on the way. two o'clock found us still making our way through the buffalo herds, but with no council springs in sight. curtis was on ahead, and one of the lieutenants, feeling a little nervous, rode up to another of the scouts. "how far are we from the springs?" he inquired. "i don't know," said the guide uneasily. "i never was over here before, but if any one knows where the springs are that young fellow over there does." he pointed to me. "when will we get to the springs?" asked the officer, turning in my direction. "never--if we keep on going the way we are now," i said. "why don't you tell the general that?" he demanded. i said that curtis was the guide, not i; whereupon he dropped back alongside the ambulance in which sherman was riding and reported what had happened. the general instantly called a halt and sent for the scouts. when all of us, including curtis, had gathered round him he got out of the ambulance, and, pulling out a map, directed curtis to locate the springs on it. "there has never been a survey made of this country, general," said curtis. "none of these maps are correct." "i know that myself," said sherman. "how far are we from the springs?" the guide hesitated. "i have never been there but once," he said, "and then i was with a big party of indians who did the guiding." he added that on a perfectly flat country, dotted with buffalo, he could not positively locate our destination. unless we were sighted and guided by indians we would have to chance it. sherman swung round on the rest of us. "do any of you know where the springs are?" he asked, looking directly at me. "yes, sir," i said, "i do." "how do you know, billy?" asked curtis. "i used to come over here with charley bath, the indian trader," i said. "where are we now?" asked sherman. "about twelve miles from the springs. they are due south." "due south! and we are traveling due west!" "yes, sir," i replied, "but if mr. curtis had not turned in a few minutes i was going to tell you." so for twelve miles i rode with sherman, and we became fast friends. he asked me all manner of questions on the way, and i found that he knew my father well, and remembered his tragic death in salt creek valley. he asked what had become of the rest of the family and all about my career. by the end of the ride i had told him my life history. as we were riding along together, with the outfit following on, i noticed pony tracks from time to time, and knew that we were nearing the springs. presently i said: "general, we are going to find indians at the springs when we reach there." "how do you know?" "we have been riding where ponies have been grazing for the last mile." "i haven't seen any tracks," said the general in surprise. "show me one." i jumped off my horse, and, thrusting the buffalo grass aside, i pointed out many tracks of barefooted ponies. "when we rise that ridge," i told him, "we shall see the village, and thousands of ponies and indian lodges." in a very few minutes this prophecy came true. curtis and the other scouts with the officers rode up quickly behind us, and we all had a fine view of this wonderful sight of the desert--a great indian camp. as we stood gazing at the spectacle we observed great excitement in the village. warriors by the dozens were leaping on their horses and riding toward us, till at least a thousand of them were in the "receiving line." "it looks to me as if we had better fall into position," said sherman. "it is not necessary," i said. "they have given us the peace sign. they are coming toward us without arms." so sherman, with general harney, general sanborn, and the other officers rode slowly forward to meet the oncoming braves. "this is where you need curtis," i told the general as he advanced. "he is the best kiowa and comanche interpreter on the plains and he knows every one of these indians personally." curtis was accordingly summoned and made interpreter, while i was assigned to remain about the commander's tent and given charge of the scouts. as the indians drew near with signs of friendliness, curtis introduced the chiefs, satanta, lone wolf, kicking bird, and others to general sherman as the head of the peace commission. the indians, having been notified in advance of the coming of the commission, had already selected a special spring for our camp and had prepared a great feast in honor of the meeting. to this feast, which was spread in the center of the village, the commissioners were conducted, while the scouts and the escort went into camp. the indians had erected a great canopy of tanned buffalo skins on tepee poles. underneath were robes for seats for the general and his staff, and thither they were led with great ceremony. near by was a great fire on which, buffalo, antelope, and other animals were roasting. even coffee and sugar had been provided, and the feast was served with tin plates for the meat and tin cups for the coffee. another tribute to the customs of the guests was a complete outfit of knives and forks. napkins, however, appeared to be lacking. indian girls, dressed in elaborate costumes, served the repast, the elder women preparing the food. looking on, it seemed to me to be the most beautiful sight i had ever seen--the grim old generals, who for the last four and a half years had been fighting a great war sitting serenely and contentedly down to meat and drink with the chiefs of a wild, and, till lately, a hostile race. after all had eaten, the great chief, satanta, loaded the big peace-pipe, whose bowl was hewn from red stone, with a beautifully carved stem eighteen inches long. the pipe was passed from mouth to mouth around the circle. after the smoke was ended satanta raised his towering bulk above the banqueters. he drew his red blanket around his broad shoulders, leaving his naked right arm free, for without his right arm an indian is deprived of his real powers of oratory. making signs to illustrate his every sentence, he spoke: "my great white brothers, i welcome you to my camp and to my people. you can rest in safety, without a thought of fear, because our hearts are now good to you--because we hope that the words you are going to speak to us will make us glad that you have come. we know that you have come a long way to see us. we feel that you are going to give us or send us presents which will gladden the hearts of all my people. "i know that you must be very tired, and as i see that your tents are pitched it would make our hearts glad to walk over to your village with you, where you can rest and sleep well, and we hope that you will dream of the many good things are going to send us and tell us when you rested. "i have sent to your tents the choicest of young buffalo, deer, and antelope, and if there is anything else in my camp which will make your hearts glad i will be pleased to send it to you. if any of your horses should stray away, my young men will bring them back to you." as the old chief concluded, general sherman, rising, shook his hand and said: "my red brother, your beautiful and romantic reception has deeply touched the hearts of my friends and myself. we most heartily thank you for it. when we are rested, and after we have slept in your wild prairie city, we should like to hold a council with the chiefs and warriors congregated here." when the officers returned to their own camp they agreed that the feast was very grand, that the indian maidens who served it were very pretty in their gay costumes and beautiful moccasins. most of them, however, had observed that the hands of the squaws who did the cooking looked as if they had not touched water for several months. it stuck in the memory of some of the guests that, in their efforts to clean the tinware, the squaws had left more soap in the corners than was necessary. the coffee had a strong flavor of soap. "if we are going to have a banquet every day," said one officer, "i think i'll do my eating in our own camp." [illustration: chief satanta passed the peace-pipe to general sherman and said: "my great white brothers"] general sherman reminded him that this would be highly impolite to the hosts, and ordered them, as soldiers, to make the best of the entertainment and to line up for mess when the indians made a feast. at ten o'clock the next morning the first session of the great council was held. for three days the white chiefs and the red chiefs sat in a circle under the canopy, and many promises of friendship were made by the indians. when the council was concluded, general sherman sent for me. "billy," he said, "i want you to send two good men to fort ellsworth with dispatches, where they can be forwarded to fort riley, the end of the telegraph line. after your men are rested they can return to fort zarrah and join us." when the two men were instructed by the general and were on their way, he took me into his tent. "i want to go to bent's fort on the arkansas river," he said, "then to fort st. barine, on the platte, and then to laramie; after that we will go to cottonwood springs, then to fort kearney and then to leavenworth. can you guide me on that trip?" i told him that i could, and was made guide, chief of scouts, and master of transportation, acting with an army officer as quartermaster. at bent's fort another council of two days was held with the indians. the journey homeward was made without difficulty. at leavenworth i took leave of one of the noblest and kindest-hearted men i have ever known. in bidding me good-by, general sherman said: "i don't think these councils we have held will amount to much. there was no sincerity in the indians' promises. i will see that the promises we made to them are carried out to the letter, but when the grass grows in the spring they will be, as usual, on the warpath. as soon as the regular army is organized it will have to be sent out here on the border to quell fresh indian uprisings, because these indians will give us no peace till they are thoroughly thrashed." the general thanked me for my services, and told me he was very lucky to find me. "it is not possible that i will be with the troops when they come," he said. "they will be commanded by general philip sheridan. you will like sheridan. he is your kind of a man. i will tell him about you when i see him. i expect to hear great reports of you when you are guiding the united states army over the plains, as you have so faithfully guided me. the quartermaster has instructions to pay you at the rate of $150 a month, and as a special reward i have ordered that you be paid $2000 extra. good-by! i know you will have good luck, for you know your business." after the departure of general sherman i made a brief visit to my sisters in salt creek valley, and for a time, there being no scouting work to do, drove stage between plum creek and fort kearney. i was still corresponding with miss frederici, the girl i had left behind me in st. louis. my future seemed now secure, so i decided that it was high time i married and settled down, if a scout can ever settle down. so, surrendering my stage job, i returned to leavenworth and embarked for st. louis by boat. after a week's visit at the home of my fiancã©e we were quietly married at her home. i made, i suppose, rather a wild-looking groom. my brown hair hung down over my shoulders, and i had just started a little mustache and goatee. i was dressed in the western fashion, and my appearance was, to say the least, unusual. we were married at eleven o'clock in the morning, and took the steamer _morning star_ at two in the afternoon for our honeymoon journey home. as we left our carriages and entered the steamer, my wife's father and mother and a number of friends accompanying us, i noticed that i was attracting considerable excited attention. a number of people, men and women, were on the deck. as we passed i heard them whispering: "there he is! that's him! i'd know him in the dark!" it was very plain to me that these observations were not particularly friendly. the glares cast at me were openly hostile. while we were disposing our baggage in our stateroom--i had hired the bridal chamber--i heard some of my wife's friends asking her father if he knew who i was, and whether i had any credentials. he replied that he had left the matter of credentials to his daughter. "well," said one of the party, "these people on board are excursionists from independence, and they say this son-in-law of yours is the most desperate outlaw, bandit, and house-burner on the frontier!" the old gentleman was considerably disturbed at this report. he made up his mind to get a little first-hand information, and he took the most direct means of getting it. "who are you?" he asked, walking over to me. "the people on board don't give you a very good recommendation." "kindly remember," i replied, "that we have had a little war for the past five years on the border. these people were on one side and i on the other, and it is natural that they shouldn't think very highly of me." my argument was not convincing. "i am going to take my daughter home again," said my father-in-law, and started toward the stateroom. i besought him to leave the decision to her, and for the next ten minutes i pleaded my case with all the eloquence i could command. i was talking against odds, for my wife, as well as her parents' friends, were all ardent southerners, and i am proud to say that after fifty years of married life, she is still as strongly "secesh" as ever. but when i put the case to her she said gamely that she had taken me for better or for worse and intended to stick to me. she was in tears when she said good-by to her parents and friends, and still in tears after they had left. i tried to comfort her with assurances that when we came among northern people i would not be regarded as such a desperate character, but my consolation was of little avail. at dinner the hostile stares that were bent on me from our neighbors at table did not serve to reassure her. it was some comfort to me afterward when the captain sent for me and told me that he knew me, that my uncle elijah was his old-time friend, and one of the most extensive shippers on the steamboat line. "it is shameful the way these people are treating you," he said, "but let it pass, and when we get to independence everything will be all right." but everything was not all right. in the evening, when i led my wife out on the floor of the cabin, where the passengers were dancing, every dancer immediately walked off the floor, the men scowling and the women with their noses in the air. all that night my wife wept while i walked the floor. at daybreak, when we stopped for wood, i heard shots and shouting. walking out on deck, i saw the freed negroes who composed the crew scrambling back on board. the steamboat was backing out in the stream. later i learned that my fellow passengers had wired up the river that i was on board, and an armed party had ridden down to "get" me. i quickly returned to the stateroom, and, diving into my trunk, took out and buckled on a brace of revolvers which had done excellent service in times past. this action promptly confirmed my wife's suspicions. she was now certain that i was the bandit i had been accused of being. i had no time to reason with her now. throwing my coat back, so that i rested my hands on the butts of my revolvers, i strolled out through the crowd. one or two men who had been doing a great deal of loud talking a few minutes past backed away, as i walked past and looked them squarely in the eyes. nothing more was said, and soon i reached the steward's office, unmolested. here i found a number of men dressed in blue uniforms. they told me they were discharged members of the eighth indiana volunteers. they were traveling to kansas, steerage, saving their money so they might have it to invest in homes when they reached their destination. they had all heard of me, and now proposed to arm and defend me should there be any further hostile demonstrations. i gladly welcomed their support, more for my wife's sake than for my own. "my wife," i said, "firmly believes that i am an outlaw." "you can't blame her," said the spokesman of the party, "after what has happened. but wait till she gets among union people and she will learn her mistake. we know your history, and of your recent services to general sherman. we know that old 'pap' sherman wouldn't have an outlaw in his service. if you had seen some of the interviews he has given out about your wife's father and his friends there would have been trouble at the start." my new-found friends did not do things by halves. in order to be able to give a ball in the cabin they exchanged their steerage tickets for first-class passage. that night the ball was given, with my wife and myself as the guests of honor. the independence crowd, observing the preparations for the ball, demanded that the captain stop at the first town and let them off. they saw that the tide had turned, and were apprehensive of reprisals. the captain told them that if they should behave like ladies and gentlemen all would be well. that night they stood outside looking in while my wife, now quite reassured, was introduced to the ladies and gentlemen from indiana, and danced till she was weary. we looked for trouble when we reached independence the next day. there was a bigger crowd than usual on the levee, but when it was seen that my yankee friends had their spencer carbines with them all was quiet. as we pulled out the old captain called me outside. "cody, it is all over now," he said. "but don't you think you were the only restless man on board. when i backed out into the river the other night i had to leave four of my best deckhands either dead or wounded on the bank. i will never forget the way you walked out through the crowd with that pair of guns in your hand. i have heard of the execution these weapons can do when they get in action." when we stopped at kansas city i telegraphed to leavenworth that we were coming. as the boat approached the leavenworth levee my soldier friends were out on deck in their dress uniforms, and i stood on the deck, my bride on my arm. soon we heard the music of the fort leavenworth band and the town band, and crowds of citizens were on the wharf as the boat tied up. the commandant of the fort, d.r. anthony, the mayor of leavenworth, my sisters, and hundreds of my friends came rushing aboard the boat to greet us. that night we were given a big banquet to which my soldier chums and their wives were invited. my wife had a glorious time. after it was all over, she put her arms about my neck and cried: "willy, i don't believe you are an outlaw at all!" i had reluctantly promised my wife that i would abandon the plains. it was necessary to make a living, so i rented a hotel in salt creek valley, the same hotel my mother had formerly conducted, and set up as a landlord. it was a typical frontier hotel, patronized by people going to and from the plains, and it took considerable tact and diplomacy to conduct it successfully. i called the place "the golden-rule house," and tried to conduct it on that principle. i seemed to have the qualifications necessary, but for a man who had lived my kind of life it proved a tame employment. i found myself sighing once more for the freedom of the plains. incidentally i felt sure i could make money as a plainsman, and, now that i had a wife to support, money had become a very important consideration. i sold out the golden-rule house and set out alone for saline, kansas, which was then at the end of construction of the kansas pacific railway. on my way i stopped at junction city, were i again met my old friend, wild bill, who was scouting for the government, with headquarters at fort ellsworth, afterward called fort harker. he told me more scouts were needed at the post, and i accompanied him to the fort, where i had no difficulty in securing employment. during the winter of 1866-67 i scouted between fort ellsworth and fort fletcher. i was at fort fletcher in the spring of 1867 when general custer came out to accompany general hancock on an indian expedition. i remained here till the post was flooded by a great rise of big creek, on which it was located. the water overflowed the fortifications, rendering the place unfit for further occupancy, and it was abandoned by the government. the troops were removed to fort hays, a new post, located farther west, on the south fork of big creek. it was while i was at fort hays that i had my first ride with the dashing custer. he had come up from ellsworth with an escort of only ten men, and wanted a guide to pilot him to fort larned, sixty-five miles distant. when custer learned that i was at the post he asked that i be assigned to duty with him. i reported to him at daylight the next day--none too early, as custer, with his staff and orderlies, was already in the saddle. when i was introduced to custer he glanced disapprovingly at the mule i was riding. "i am glad to meet you, cody," he said. "general sherman has told me about you. but i am in a hurry, and i am sorry to see you riding that mule." "general," i returned, "that is one of the best horses at the fort." "it isn't a horse at all," he said, "but if it's the best you've got we shall have to start." we rode side by side as we left the fort. my mule had a fast walk, which kept the general's horse most of the time in a half-trot. his animal was a fine kentucky thoroughbred, but for the kind of work at hand i had full confidence in my mount. whenever custer was not looking i slyly spurred the mule ahead, and when he would start forward i would rein him in and pat him by way of restraint, bidding him not to be too fractious, as we hadn't yet reached the sandhills. in this way i set a good lively pace--something like nine miles an hour--all morning. at smoky hill river we rested our animals. then the general, who was impatient to be off, ordered a fresh start. i told him we had still forty miles of sandhills to cross, and advised an easier gait. "i have no time to waste on the road," he said. "i want to push right ahead." push right ahead we did. i continued quietly spurring my mule and then counseling the brute to take it easy. presently i noticed that the escort was stringing out far behind, as their horses became winded with the hard pace through the sand. custer, looking back, noticed the same thing. "i think we are setting too fast a pace for them, cody," he said, but when i replied that i thought this was merely the usual pace for my mule and that i supposed he was in a hurry he made no further comment. several times during the next forty miles we had to stop to wait for the escort to close up. their horses, sweating and panting, had reached almost the limit of their endurance. i continued patting my animal and ordering him to quiet down, and custer at length said: "you seem to be putting it over me a little today." when we reached a high ridge overlooking pawnee fork we again waited for our lagging escort. as we waited i said: "if you want to send a dispatch to the officer in command at fort larned, i will be pleased to take it down for you. you can follow this ridge till you come to the creek and then follow the valley right down to the fort." custer swung around to the captain, who had just ridden up, and repeated to him my instructions as to how to reach the fort. "i shall ride ahead with cody," he added. "now, cody, i am ready for you and that mouse-colored mule." the pace i set for general custer from that time forward was "some going." when we rode up to the quarters of captain daingerfield parker, commandant of the post, general custer dismounted, and his horse was led off to the stables by an orderly, while i went to the scouts' quarters. i was personally sure that my mule was well cared for, and he was fresh as a daisy the next morning. after an early breakfast i groomed and saddled my mule, and, riding down to the general's quarters, waited for him to appear. i saluted as he came out, and said that if he had any further orders i was ready to carry them out. "i am not feeling very pleasant this morning, cody," he said. "my horse died during the night." i said i was very sorry his animal got into too fast a class the day before. "well," he replied, "hereafter i will have nothing to say against a mule. we will meet again on the plains. i shall try to have you detailed as my guide, and then we will have time to talk over that race." a few days after my return to fort hays the indians made a raid on the kansas pacific railroad, killing five or six men and running off a hundred or more horses and mules. the news was brought to the commanding officer, who immediately ordered major arms, of the tenth cavalry, to go in pursuit of the raiders. the tenth cavalry was a negro regiment. arms took a company, with one mountain howitzer, and i was sent along as scout. on the second day out we discovered a large party of indians on the opposite side of the saline river, and about a mile distant. the party was charging down on us and there was no time to lose. arms placed his howitzer on a little knoll, limbered it up, and left twenty men to guard it. then, with the rest of the command, he crossed the river to meet the redskins. just as he had got his men across the stream we heard a terrific shouting. looking back toward the knoll where the gun had been left, we saw our negro gun-guard flying toward us, pursued by more than a hundred indians. more indians were dancing about the gun, although they had not the slightest notion what to do with it. arms turned back with his command and drove the redskins from their useless prize. the men dismounted and took up a position there. a very lively fight followed. five or six men, including major arms, were wounded, and a number of the horses were shot. as the fight proceeded, the enemy seemed to become steadily more numerous. it was apparent that reinforcements were arriving from some large party in the rear. the negro troops, who had been boasting of what they would do to the indians, were now singing a different tune. "we'll jes' blow 'em off'm de fahm," they had said, before there was an enemy in sight. now, every time the foe would charge us, some of the darkies would cry: "heah dey come! de whole country is alive wif 'em. dere must be ten thousand ob dem. massa bill, does you-all reckon we is ebber gwine to get out o' heah?" the major, who had been lying under the cannon since receiving his wound, asked me if i thought there was a chance to get back to the fort. i replied that there was, and orders were given for a retreat, the cannon being left behind. during the movement a number of our men were killed by the deadly fire of the indians. but night fell, and in the darkness we made fairly good headway, arriving at fort hays just at daybreak. during our absence cholera had broken out at the post. five or six men were dying daily. for the men there was a choice of dangers--going out to fight the indians on the prairie, or remaining in camp to be stricken with cholera. to most of us the former was decidedly the more inviting. "the rise and fall of modern rome"--was the chapter of frontier history in which i next figured. for a time i was part owner of a town, and on my way to fortune. and then one of those quick changes that mark western history in the making occurred and i was left--but i will tell you the story. at the town of ellsworth, which i visited one day while carrying dispatches to fort harker, i met william rose, who had a contract for trading on the right-of-way of the kansas pacific near fort hays. his stock had been stolen by the indians, and he had come to ellsworth to buy more. rose was enthusiastic about a project for laying out a town site on the west side of big creek, a mile from the fort, where the railroad was to cross. when, in response to a request for my opinion, i told him i thought the scheme a big one, he invited me to come in as a partner. he suggested that after the town was laid out and opened to the public we establish a store and saloon. i thought it would be a grand thing to become half owner of a town, and at once accepted the proposition. we hired a railroad engineer to survey the town site and stake it into lots. also we ordered a big stock of the goods usually kept in a general merchandise store on the frontier. this done, we gave the town the ancient and historical name of rome. as a starter we donated lots to anyone who would build on them, reserving for ourselves the corner lots and others which were best located. these reserved lots we valued at two hundred and fifty dollars each. when the town was laid out i wrote my wife that i was worth $250,000, and told her i wanted her to get ready to come to ellsworth by rail. she was then visiting her parents at st. louis, with our baby daughter whom we had named arta. i was at ellsworth to meet her when she arrived, bringing the baby. besides three or four wagons, in which the supplies for the new general store and furniture for the little house i had built were loaded, i had a carriage for her and the baby. the new town of rome was a hundred miles west. i knew that it would be a dangerous trip, as the indians had long been troublesome along the railroad, and i realized the danger more fully because of the presence of my wife and little daughter. a number of immigrants bound for the new town accompanied us. the first night out i formed the men into a company, one squad to stand watch while the others slept. all the early part of the evening i went the rounds of the camp, much to my wife's annoyance. "why are you away so much?" she kept asking. "it is lonesome here, and i need you." rather than let her know of my uneasiness about the indians, i told her i was trying to sell lots to the men while they were en route. as the night wore on and everything seemed quiet i prepared to get a little rest. i did not take my clothes off, and, much to my wife's surprise, slept with my rifle and revolvers close by me. i had just dropped off to sleep when i heard shots, and knew they could mean nothing but indians. the attacking party was small and we were fully prepared. when they discovered this they fired a few shots and galloped away. the second night was almost a repetition of the first. after another party had been repulsed, mrs. cody asked me if i had brought her and the baby out on the plains to be killed. "this is the kind of a life i lead every day and get fat on it," i said. but she did not seem to think it especially congenial. everybody turned out to greet us when we arrived in rome. even the gambling-hall houses and the dance-halls closed in our honor. the next day we moved into our little house. that night there was a veritable fusillade of revolver shots outside the window. "what is that?" asked mrs. cody. "just a serenade," i said. "are yon firing blank cartridges?" "no. if it became known that revolvers were loaded with blank cartridges around here we would soon lose some of our most valued citizens. everybody in town, from the police judge to dishwashers, carries a pistol." "why?" "to keep law and order." that puzzled my wife. she said that in st. louis policemen kept law and order, and wanted to know why we didn't have them to do it out here. i informed her that a policeman would not last very long in a town like this, which was perfectly true. on my return from a hunting trip a few days later i met a man who had come into town on the stage-coach, and whom mrs. cody had seen looking over the town site from every possible angle. he told me he thought i had selected a good town site--and i agreed with him. he asked me to go for a ride around the surrounding country with him the next day. i told him i was going on a buffalo hunt. he had never killed a buffalo, he said. he wanted to get a fine head to take back with him, and would be grateful if i would take him with me. i promised to see that he got a nice head if he came along, and early the next morning rode down to his hotel. he was dressed in a smart hunting costume and had his rifle. we started for the plains, my wagons following to gather up the meat we should kill. as we rode out i explained to him how i hunted. "i kill as many buffalo as i want," i said. "this i call a 'run.' the wagons come along afterward and the butchers cut the meat and load it." when i went out on my "run" i told him where to shoot to kill. but when my work was done i met him coming back crestfallen. he had failed to get his buffalo down, although he had shot him three times. "come along with me," i said. "i see another herd over there. i am going to change saddles with you and let you ride the best buffalo horse on the plains." he was astonished and delighted to think i would let him ride brigham, the most famous buffalo horse in the west. when we drew near the herd i pointed out a fine four-year-old bull with a splendid head. i galloped alongside. brigham spotted the buffalo i wanted, and after my companion's third shot the brute fell. my pupil was overjoyed with his success, and appeared to be so grateful to me that i felt sure i should be able to sell him three or four blocks of rome real estate at least. i invited him to take dinner, and served as part of the repast the meat of the buffalo he had shot. the next morning he looked me up and told me he wanted to make a proposition to me. "what is it?" i asked. i had thought i was the one who was going to make a proposition. "i will give you one-eighth of this town site," he said. the nerve of this proposal took me off my feet. here was a total stranger offering me one-eighth of my own town site as a reward for what i had done for him. i told him that if he killed another buffalo i would have to hog-hobble him and send him out of town; then rode off and left him. this magnanimous offer occurred right in front of my own house. my wife overheard it, and also my reply. as i rode away, he called out that he wanted to explain, but i was thoroughly disgusted. "i have no time to listen to you," i shouted over my shoulder. i was bound out on a buffalo hunt to get meat for the graders twenty miles away on the railroad, and i kept right on going. three days afterward i rode back over the ridge above the town of rome and looked down on it. i took several more looks. the town was being torn down and carted away. the balloon-frame buildings were coming apart section by section. i could see at least a hundred teams and wagons carting lumber, furniture, and everything that made up the town over the prairies to the eastward. my pupil at buffalo hunting was dr. webb, president of the town-site company of the kansas pacific. after i had ridden away without listening to his explanations he had invited the citizens of rome to come over and see where the new railroad division town of hays city was to be built. he supplied them with wagons for the journey from a number of rock wagons that had been lent him by the government to assist him in the location of a new town. the distance was only a mile, and he got a crowd. at the town site of hays city he made a speech, telling the people who he was and what he proposed to do. he said the railroad would build its repair-shops at the new town, and there would be employment for many men, and that hays city was destined soon to be the most important place on the plains. he had already put surveyors to work on the site. lots, he said, were then on the market, and could be had far more reasonably than the lots in rome. my fellow-citizens straightway began to pick out their lots in the new town. webb loaned them the six-mule government wagons to bring over their goods and chattels, together with the timbers of their houses. when i galloped into rome that day there was hardly a house left standing save my little home, our general store, and a few sod-houses and dugouts. mrs. cody and the baby were sitting on a drygoods box when i rode up to the store. my partner, rose, stood near by, whistling and whittling. "my word, rose! what has become of our town!" i cried. rose could make no answer. mrs. cody said: "you wrote me you were worth $250,000." "we've got no time to talk about that now," i said. "what made this town move away?" "you ought to have taken mr. webb's offer," was her answer. "who the dickens is webb?" i stormed. rose looked up from his whittling. "bill," he said, "that little flapper-jack was the president of the town-site company for the k.p. railroad, and he's run such a bluff on our citizens about a new town site that is going to be a division-point that they've all moved over there." "yes," commented mrs. cody, "and where is your $250,000?" "well, i've got to make it yet," i said, and then to rose: "how did the fall hit you?" "what fall?" "from millionaire to pauper." "it hasn't got through hitting me yet," he said solemnly. rose went back to his grading contract, and i resumed my work as a buffalo hunter. when the perry house, the rome hotel, was moved to hays city and rebuilt there, i took my wife and daughter and installed them there. it was hard to descend from the rank of millionaires to that of graders and buffalo hunters, but we had to do it. the rise and fall of modern rome had made us, and it broke us! chapter iv i soon became better acquainted with dr. webb, through whose agency our town of rome had fallen almost overnight. we visited him often in hays, and eventually he presented my partner rose and myself each with two lots in the new town. webb frequently accompanied me on buffalo-hunting excursions; and before he had been on the prairie a year there were few men who could kill more buffalo than he. once, when i was riding brigham, and webb was mounted on a splendid thoroughbred bay, we discovered a band of indians about two miles distant, maneuvering so as to get between us and the town. a gallop of three miles brought us between them and home; but by that time they had come within three-quarters of a mile of us. we stopped to wave our hands at them, and fired a few shots at long range. but as there were thirteen in the party, and they were getting a little too close, we turned and struck out for hays. they sent some scattering shots in pursuit, then wheeled and rode off toward the saline river. when there were no buffalo to hunt i tried the experiment of hitching brigham to one of our railroad scrapers, but he was not gaited for that sort of work. i had about given up the idea of extending his usefulness to railroading when news came that buffaloes were coming over the hill. there had been none in the vicinity for some time. as a consequence, meat was scarce. i took the harness from brigham, mounted him bareback and started after the game, being armed with my new buffalo killer which i had named "lucretia borgia," an improved breech-loading needle-gun which i had obtained from the government. as i was riding toward the buffaloes i observed five men coming from the fort. they, too, had seen the herd and had come to join the chase. as i neared them i saw that they were officers, newly arrived at the fort, a captain and four lieutenants. "hello, my friend!" sang out the captain as they came up. "i see you are after the same game we are." "yes, sir," i returned. "i saw those buffaloes coming. we are out of fresh meat, so i thought i would get some." the captain eyed my cheap-looking outfit closely. brigham, though the best buffalo horse in the west, was decidedly unprepossessing in appearance. "do you expect to catch any buffaloes on that gothic steed!" asked the captain, with a laugh. "i hope so." "you'll never catch them in the world, my fine fellow. it requires a fast horse to overtake those animals." "does it?" i asked innocently. "yes. but come along with us. we're going to kill them more for the sport than anything else. after we take the tongues and a piece of the tenderloin, you may have what is left." eleven animals were in the herd, which was about a mile distant. i noticed they were making toward the creek for water. i knew buffalo nature, and was aware that it would be difficult to turn them from their course. i therefore started toward the creek to head them off, while the officers dashed madly up behind them. the herd came rushing up past me, not a hundred yards distant, while their pursuers followed, three hundred yards in the rear. "now," thought i, "is the time to get in my work." i pulled the blind bridle from brigham, who knew as well as i did what was expected of him. the moment he was free of the bridle he set out at top speed, running in ahead of the officers. in a few jumps he brought me alongside the rear buffalo. raising old "lucretia borgia," i killed the animal with one shot. on went brigham to the next buffalo, ten feet farther along, and another was disposed of. as fast as one animal would fall, brigham would pass to the next, getting so close that i could almost touch it with my gun. in this fashion i killed eleven buffaloes with twelve shots. as the last one dropped my horse stopped. i jumped to the ground. turning round to the astonished officers, who had by this time caught up, i said: "now, gentlemen, allow me to present you with all the tongues and tenderloins from these animals that you want." captain graham, who, i soon learned, was the senior officer, gasped. "well, i never saw the like before! who are you, anyway?" "my name is cody," i said. lieutenant thompson, one of the party, who had met me at fort harker, cried out: "why, that is bill cody, our old scout." he introduced me to his comrades, captain graham and lieutenants reed, emmick, and ezekial. graham, something of a horseman himself, greatly admired brigham. "that horse of yours has running points," he admitted. the officers were a little sore at not getting a single shot; but the way i had killed the buffaloes, they said, amply repaid them for their disappointment. it was the first time they had ever seen or heard of a white man running buffaloes without either saddle or bridle. i told them brigham knew nearly as much about the business as i did. he was a wonderful horse. if the buffalo did not fall at the first shot he would stop to give me a second chance; but if, on the second shot, i did not kill the game, he would go on impatiently as if to say: "i can't fool away my time by giving you more than two shots!" captain graham told me that he would be stationed at fort hays during the summer. in the event of his being sent out on a scouting expedition he wanted me as scout and guide. i said that although i was very busy with my railroad contract i would be glad to go with him. that night the indians unexpectedly raided our horses, and ran off five or six of the best work-teams. at daylight i jumped on brigham, rode to fort hays, and reported the raid to the commanding officer. captain graham and lieutenant emmick were ordered out with their company of one hundred colored troops. in an hour we were under way. the darkies had never been in an indian fight and were anxious to "sweep de red debbils off de face ob de earth." graham was a dashing officer, eager to make a record, and it was with difficulty that i could trail fast enough to keep out of the way of the impatient soldiers. every few moments the captain would ride up to see if the trail was freshening, and to ask how soon we would overtake the marauders. at the saline river we found the indians had stopped only to graze and water the animals and had pushed on toward solomon. after crossing the river they made no effort to conceal their trail, thinking they were safe from pursuit. we reached solomon at sunset. requesting captain graham to keep his command where it was, i went ahead to try to locate the redmen. riding down a ravine that led to the river, i left my horse, and, creeping uphill, looked cautiously over the summit upon solomon. in plain sight, not a mile away, was a herd of horses grazing, among them the animals which had been stolen from us. presently i made out the indian camp, noted its "lay," and calculated how best we could approach it. graham's eyes danced with excitement when i reported the prospect of an immediate encounter. we decided to wait until the moon rose, and then make a sudden dash, taking the redskins by surprise. we thought we had everything cut and dried, but alas! just as we were nearing the point where we were to take the open ground and make our charge, one of the colored gentlemen became so excited that he fired his gun. we began the charge immediately, but the warning had been sounded. the indians at once sprang to their horses, and were away before we reached their camp. captain graham shouted, "follow me, boys!" and follow him we did, but in the darkness the indians made good their escape. the bugle sounded the recall, but some of the darkies did not get back to camp until the next morning, having, in their fright, allowed the horses to run wherever it suited them to go. we followed the trail awhile the next day, but it became evident that it would be a long chase, and as we were short of rations we started back to camp. captain graham was bitterly disappointed at being cheated out of a fight that seemed at hand. he roundly cursed the darky who bad given, the warning with his gun. that gentleman, as a punishment, was compelled to walk all the way back to fort hays. the western end of the kansas pacific was at this time in the heart of the buffalo country. twelve hundred men were employed in the construction of the road. the indians were very troublesome, and it was difficult to obtain fresh meat for the hands. the company therefore concluded to engage expert hunters to kill buffaloes. having heard of my experience and success as a buffalo hunter, goddard brothers, who had the contract for feeding the men, made me a good offer to become their hunter. they said they would require about twelve buffaloes a day--twenty-four hams and twelve humps, as only the hump and hindquarters of each animal were utilized. the work was dangerous. indians were riding all over that section of the country, and my duties would require me to journey from five to ten miles from the railroad every day in order to secure the game, accompanied by only one man with a light wagon to haul the meat back to camp. i demanded a large salary, which they could well afford to pay, as the meat itself would cost them nothing. under the terms of the contract which i signed with them, i was to receive five hundred dollars a month, agreeing on my part to supply them with all the meat they wanted. leaving rose to complete our grading contract, i at once began my career as a buffalo hunter for the kansas pacific. it was not long before i acquired a considerable reputation, and it was at this time that the title "buffalo bill" was conferred upon me by the railroad hands. of this title, which has stuck to me through life, i have never been ashamed. during my engagement as hunter for the company, which covered a period of eighteen months, i killed 4,280 buffaloes and had many exciting adventures with the indians, including a number of hairbreadth escapes, some of which are well worth relating. one day, in the spring of 1868, i mounted brigham and started for smoky hill river. after a gallop of twenty miles i reached the top of a small hill overlooking that beautiful stream. gazing out over the landscape, i saw a band of about thirty indians some half-mile distant. i knew by the way they jumped on their horses they had seen me as soon as i saw them. my one chance for my life was to run. i wheeled my horse and started for the railroad. brigham struck out as if he comprehended that this was a life-or-death matter. on reaching the next ridge i looked around and saw the indians, evidently well mounted, and coming for me full speed. brigham put his whole strength into the flight, and for a few minutes did some of the prettiest running i ever saw. but the indians had nearly as good mounts as he, and one of their horses in particular, a spotted animal, gained on me steadily. occasionally the brave who was riding this fleet horse would send a bullet whistling after me. soon they began to strike too near for comfort. the other indians were strung out along behind, and could do no immediate damage. but i saw that the fellow in the lead must be checked, or a stray bullet might hit me or the horse. suddenly stopping brigham, therefore, i raised old "lucretia" to my shoulder and took deliberate aim, hoping to hit either the horse or the rider. he was not eighty yards behind me. at the crack of the rifle down went the horse. not waiting to see if he regained his feet, brigham and i went fairly flying toward our destination. we had urgent business just then and were in a hurry to attend to it. the other indians had gained while i stopped to drop the leader. a volley of shots whizzed past me. fortunately none of them hit. now and then, to return the compliment, i wheeled and fired. one of my shots broke the leg of one of my pursuers' mounts. but seven or eight indians now remained in dangerous proximity to me. as their horses were beginning to lag, i checked brigham to give him an opportunity to get a few extra breaths. i had determined that if the worst came to the worst i would drop into a buffalo wallow, where i might possibly stand off my pursuers. i was not compelled to do this, for brigham carried me through nobly. when we came within three miles of the railroad track, where two companies of soldiers were stationed, one of the outposts gave the alarm. in a few minutes, to my great delight, i saw men on foot and on horseback hurrying to the rescue. the indians quickly turned and galloped away as fast as they had come. when i reached my friends, i turned brigham over to them. he was led away and given the care and rub-down that he richly deserved. captain nolan of the tenth cavalry now came up with forty men, and on hearing my account of what had happened determined to pursue the indians. i was given a cavalry horse for a remount and we were off. our horses were all fresh and excellent stock. we soon began shortening the distance between ourselves and the fugitives. before they had fled five miles we overtook them and killed eight of their number. the others succeeded in making their escape. upon coming to the place where i had dropped the spotted horse that carried the leader of my pursuers i found that my bullet had struck him in the forehead, killing him instantly. he was a fine animal, and should have been engaged in better business. on our return we found old brigham grazing contentedly. he looked up inquiring, as if to ask if we had punished the redskins who pursued us. i think he read the answer in my eyes. another adventure which deserves a place in these reminiscences occurred near the saline river. my companion at the time was scotty, the butcher who accompanied me on my hunts, to cut up the meat and load it on the wagon for hauling to the railroad camp. i had killed fifteen buffaloes, and we were on our way home with a wagonload of meat when we were jumped by a big band of indians. [illustration: winning my name--"buffalo bill"] i was mounted on a splendid horse belonging to the company, and could easily have made my escape, but scotty had only the mule team, which drew the wagon as a means of flight, and of course i could not leave him. to think was to act in those days. scotty and i had often talked of what we would do in case of a sudden attack, and we forthwith proceeded to carry out the plan we had made. jumping to the ground, we unhitched the mules more quickly than that operation had ever been performed before. the mules and my horse we tied to the wagon. we threw the buffalo hams on the ground and piled them about the wheels so as to form a breastwork. then, with an extra box of ammunition and three or four extra revolvers which we always carried with us, we crept under the wagon, prepared to give our visitors a reception they would remember. on came the indians, pell-mell, but when they got within a hundred yards of us we opened such a sudden and galling fire that they held up and began circling about us. several times they charged. their shots killed the two mules and my horse. but we gave it to them right and left, and had the satisfaction of seeing three of them fall to the ground not more than fifty feet away. when we had been cooped up in our little fort for about an hour we saw the cavalry coming toward us, full gallop, over the prairie. the indians saw the soldiers almost as soon as we did. mounting their horses, they disappeared down the caã±on of the creek. when the cavalry arrived we had the satisfaction of showing them five indians who would be "good" for all time. two hours later we reached the camp with our meat, which we found to be all right, although it had a few bullets and arrows imbedded in it. it was while i was hunting for the railroad that i became acquainted with kit carson, one of the most noted of the guides, scouts, and hunters that the west ever produced. he was going through our country on his way to washington. i met him again on his return, and he was my guest for a few days in hays city. he then proceeded to fort lyon, colorado, near which his son-in-law, mr. boggs, resided. his health had been failing for some time, and shortly afterward he died at mr. boggs's residence on picket wire creek. soon after the adventure with scotty i had my celebrated buffalo shooting contest with billy comstock, a well-known guide, scout, and interpreter. comstock, who was chief of scouts at fort wallace, had a reputation of being a successful buffalo hunter, and his friends at the fort--the officers in particular--were anxious to back him against me. it was arranged that i should shoot a match with him, and the preliminaries were easily and satisfactorily arranged. we were to hunt one day of eight hours, beginning at eight o'clock in the morning. the wager was five hundred dollars a side, and the man who should kill the greater number of buffaloes from horseback was to be declared the winner. incidentally my title of "buffalo bill" was at stake. the hunt took place twenty miles east of sheridan. it had been well advertised, and there was a big "gallery." an excursion party, whose members came chiefly from st. louis and numbered nearly a hundred ladies and gentlemen, came on a special train to view the sport. among them was my wife and my little daughter arta, who had come to visit me for a time. buffaloes were plentiful. it had been agreed that we should go into the herd at the same time and make our "runs," each man killing as many animals as possible. a referee followed each of us, horseback, and counted the buffaloes killed by each man. the excursionists and other spectators rode out to the hunting-grounds in wagons and on horseback, keeping well out of sight of the buffaloes, so as not to frighten them until the time came for us to dash into the herd. they were permitted to approach closely enough to see what was going on. for the first "run" we were fortunate in getting good ground. comstock was mounted on his favorite horse. i rode old brigham. i felt confident that i had the advantage in two things: first, i had the best buffalo horse in the country; second, i was using what was known at the time as a needle-gun, a breech-loading springfield rifle, caliber .50. this was "lucretia," the weapon of which i have already told you. comstock's henry rifle, though it could fire more rapidly than mine, did not, i felt certain, carry powder and lead enough to equal my weapon in execution. when the time came to go into the herd, comstock and i dashed forward, followed by the referees. the animals separated. comstock took the left bunch, i the right. my great forte in killing buffaloes was to get them circling by riding my horse at the head of the herd and shooting their leaders. thus the brutes behind were crowded to the left, so that they were soon going round and round. this particular morning the animals were very accommodating. i soon had them running in a beautiful circle. i dropped them thick and fast till i had killed thirty-eight, which finished my "run." comstock began shooting at the rear of the buffaloes he was chasing, and they kept on in a straight line. he succeeded in killing twenty-three, but they were scattered over a distance of three miles. the animals i had shot lay close together. our st. louis friends set out champagne when the result of the first run was announced. it proved a good drink on a kansas prairie, and a buffalo hunter proved an excellent man to dispose of it. while we were resting we espied another herd approaching. it was a small drove, but we prepared to make it serve our purpose. the buffaloes were cows and calves, quicker in their movements than the bulls. we charged in among them, and i got eighteen to comstock's fourteen. again the spectators approached, and once more the champagne went round. after a luncheon we resumed the hunt. three miles distant we saw another herd. i was so far ahead of my competitor now that i thought i could afford to give an exhibition of my skill. leaving my saddle and bridle behind, i rode, with my competitor, to windward of the buffaloes. i soon had thirteen down, the last one of which i had driven close to the wagons, where the ladies were watching the contest. it frightened some of the tender creatures to see a buffalo coming at full speed directly toward them, but i dropped him in his tracks before he had got within fifty yards of the wagon. this finished my "run" with a score of sixty-nine buffaloes for the day. comstock had killed forty-six. it was now late in the afternoon. comstock and his backers gave up the idea of beating me. the referee declared me the winner of the match, and the champion buffalo hunter of the plains. on our return to camp we brought with us the best bits of meat, as well as the biggest and best buffalo heads. the heads i always turned over to the company, which found a very good use for them. they were mounted in the finest possible manner and sent to the principal cities along the road, as well as to the railroad centers of the country. here they were prominently placed at the leading hotels and in the stations, where they made an excellent advertisement for the road today they attract the attention of travelers almost everywhere. often, while touring the country, i see one of them, and feel reasonably certain that i brought down the animal it once ornamented. many a wild and exciting hunt is thus called to my mind. in may, 1868, the kansas pacific track was pushed as far as sheridan. construction was abandoned for the time, and my services as buffalo hunter were no longer required. a general indian war was now raging all along the western borders. general sheridan had taken up headquarters at fort hays, in order to be on the job in person. scouts and guides were once more in great demand, and i decided to go back to my old calling. i did not wish to kill my faithful old brigham by the rigors of a scouting campaign. i had no suitable place to leave him, and determined to dispose of him. at the suggestion of a number of friends, all of whom wanted him, i put him up at a raffle, selling ten chances at thirty dollars each, which were all quickly taken. ike bonham, who won him, took him to wyandotte, kansas, where he soon added fresh laurels to his already shining wreath. in the crowning event of a tournament he easily outdistanced all entries in a four-mile race to wyandotte, winning $250 for his owner, who had been laughed at for entering such an unprepossessing animal. i lost track of him after that. for several years i did not know what had become of him. but many years after, while in memphis, i met mr. wilcox, who had once been superintendent of construction on the kansas pacific. he informed me that he owned brigham, and i rode out to his place to take a look at my gallant old friend. he seemed to remember me, as i put my arms about his neck and caressed him like a long-lost child. when i had received my appointment as guide and scout i was ordered to report to the commandant of fort larned, captain daingerfield parker. i knew that it would be necessary to take my family, who had been with me at sheridan, to leavenworth and leave them there. this i did at once. when i arrived at larned, i found the scouts under command of dick curtis, an old-time scout of whom i have spoken in these reminiscences. three hundred lodges of kiowa and comanche indians were encamped near the fort. these savages had not yet gone on the warpath, but they were restless and discontented. their leading chief and other warriors were becoming sullen and insolent. the post was garrisoned by only two companies of infantry and one troop of cavalry. general hazen, who was at the post, was endeavoring to pacify the indians; i was appointed as his special scout. early one morning in august i accompanied him to fort zarrah, from which post he proceeded, without an escort, to fort harker. instructions were left that the escort with me should return to larned the next day. after he had gone i went to the sergeant in command of the squad and informed him i intended to return that afternoon. i saddled my mule and set out. all went well till i got about halfway between the two posts, when at pawnee rock i was suddenly jumped by at least forty indians, who came rushing up, extending their hands and saying, "how?" "how?" these redskins had been hanging about fort larned that morning. i saw that they had on their warpaint, and looked for trouble. as they seemed desirous to shake hands, however, i obeyed my first friendly impulse, and held out my hand. one of them seized it with a tight grip and jerked me violently forward. another grabbed my mule by the bridle. in a few minutes i was completely surrounded. before i could do anything at all in my defense, they had taken my revolvers from the holsters and i received a blow on the head from a tomahawk which rendered me nearly senseless. my gun, which was lying across the saddle, was snatched from its place. finally two indians, laying hold of the bridle, started off in the direction of the arkansas river, leading the mule, which was lashed by the other indians who followed along after. the whole crowd was whooping, singing, and yelling as only indians can. looking toward the opposite side of the river, i saw the people of a big village moving along the bank, and made up my mind that the redmen had left the post, and were on the warpath in dead earnest. my captors crossed the stream with me, and as we waded through the shallow water they lashed both the mule and me. soon they brought me before an important-looking body of indians, who proved to be the chiefs and principal warriors. among them i recognized, old satanta and others whom i knew. i supposed that all was over with me. all at once satanta asked me where i had been, and i suddenly had an inspiration. i said i had been after a herd of cattle or "whoa-haws" as they called them. the indians had been out of meat for several weeks, and a large herd of cattle which had been promised them had not arrived. as soon as i said i had been after "whoa-haws" old satanta began questioning me closely. when he asked where the cattle were i replied that they were only a few miles distant and that i had been sent by general hazen to inform him that the herd was coming, and that they were intended for his people. this seemed to please the old rascal. he asked if there were any soldiers with the herd. i said there were. thereupon the chiefs held a consultation. presently satanta asked me if the general had really said they were to have the cattle. i assured him that he had. i followed this by a dignified inquiry as to why his young men had treated me so roughly. he intimated that this was only a boyish freak, for which he was very sorry. the young men had merely wanted to test my courage. the whole thing, he said, was a joke. the old liar was now beating me at the lying game, but i did not care, since i was getting the best of it. i did not let him suspect that i doubted his word. he ordered the young men to restore my arms and reprimanded them for their conduct. he was playing a crafty game, for he preferred to get the meat without fighting if possible, and my story that soldiers were coming had given him food for reflection. after another council the old man asked me if i would go and bring the cattle down. "of course," i told him. "such are my instructions from general hazen." in response to an inquiry if i wanted any of his young men to accompany me i said that it would be best to go alone. wheeling my mule around, i was soon across the river, leaving the chief firmly believing that i was really going for the cattle, which existed only in my imagination. i knew if i could get the river between me and the indians i would have a good three-quarters of a mile start of them and could make a run for fort larned. but as i reached the river bank i looked about and saw ten or fifteen indians who had begun to suspect that all was not as it should be. the moment my mule secured a good foothold on the bank i urged him into a gentle lope toward the place where, according to my story, the cattle were to be brought. upon reaching the top of the ridge and riding down the other side out of view, i turned my mount and headed westward for fort larned. i let him out for all he was worth, and when i reached a little rise and looked back the indian village lay in plain sight. my pursuers were by this time on the ridge i had passed over, and were looking for me in every direction. soon they discovered me, and discovered also that i was running away. they struck out in swift pursuit. in a few minutes it became painfully evident that they were gaining. when i crossed pawnee fork, two miles from the post, two or three of them were but a quarter of a mile behind. as i gained the opposite side of the creek i was overjoyed to see some soldiers in a government wagon a short distance away. i yelled at the top of my lungs that the indians were after me. when denver jim, an old scout, who was with the party, was informed that there were ten or fifteen indians in the pursuit he said: "let's lay for them." the wagon was driven hurriedly in among the trees and low box-elder bushes, and secreted, while we waited. we did not wait long. soon up came the indians, lashing their horses, which were blowing and panting. we let two of them pass, then opened a lively fire on the next three or four, killing two at the first volley. the others discovering that they had run into an ambush, whirled around and ran back in the direction from which they had come. the two who had passed heard the firing and made their escape. the indians that were killed were scalped, and we appropriated their arms and equipment. then, after catching the horses, we made our way into the post. the soldiers had heard us firing, and as we entered the fort drums were beating and the buglers were sounding the call to fall in. the officers had thought satanta and his warriors were coming in to capture the fort. that very morning, two hours after general hazen had left, the old chief drove into the post in an ambulance which he had received some months before from the government. he seemed angry and bent on mischief. in an interview with captain parker, the ranking officer, he asked why general hazen had left the fort without supplying him with beef cattle. the captain said the cattle were then on the road, but could not explain why they were delayed. the chief made numerous threats. he said that if he wanted to he could capture the whole post. captain parker, who was a brave man, gave him to understand that he was reckoning beyond his powers. satanta finally left in anger. going to the sutler's store, he sold his ambulance to the post-trader, and a part of the proceeds he secretly invested in whisky, which could always be secured by the indians from rascally men about a post, notwithstanding the military and civil laws. he then mounted his horse and rode rapidly to his village. he returned in an hour with seven or eight hundred of his warriors, and it looked as if he intended to carry out his threat of capturing the fort. the garrison at once turned out. the redskins, when within a half mile, began circling around the fort, firing several shots into it. while this circling movement was taking place, the soldiers observed that the whole village had packed up and was on the move. the mounted warriors remained behind some little time, to give their families an opportunity to get away. at last they circled the post several times more, fired a few parting shots, and then galloped over the prairie to overtake the fast-departing village. on their way they surprised and killed a party of woodchoppers on pawnee fork, as well as a party of herders guarding beef cattle. the soldiers with the wagon i had opportunely met at the crossing had been out looking for the bodies of these victims, seven or eight in all. under the circumstances it was not surprising that the report of our guns should have persuaded the garrison that satanta's men were coming back to make their threatened assault. there was much excitement at the post. the guards had been doubled. captain parker had all the scouts at his headquarters. he was seeking to get one of them to take dispatches to general sheridan at fort hays. i reported to him at once, telling him of my encounter and my escape. "you were lucky to think of that cattle story, cody," he said. "but for that little game your scalp would now be ornamenting a kiowa lodge." "cody," put in dick curtis, "the captain is trying to get somebody to take dispatches to general sheridan. none of the scouts here seem willing to undertake the trip. they say they are not well enough acquainted with the country to find the way at night." a storm was coming up, and it was sure to be a dark night. not only did the scouts fear they would lose the way, but, with hostile indians all about, the undertaking was exceedingly dangerous. a large party of redskins was known to be encamped at walnut creek, on the direct road to fort hays. observing that curtis was obviously trying to induce me to volunteer, i made an evasive answer. i was wearied from my long day's ride, and the beating i received from the indians had not rested me any. but curtis was persistent. he said: "i wish you were not so tired, bill. you know the country better than the rest of us. i'm certain you could go through." "as far as the ride is concerned," i said, "that would not matter. but this is risky business just now, with the country full of hostile indians. still, if no other man will volunteer i will chance it, provided i am supplied with a good horse. i am tired of dodging indians on a government mule." at this, captain nolan, who had been listening, said: "bill, you can have the best horse in my company." i picked the horse ridden by captain nolan's first sergeant. to the captain's inquiry as to whether i was sure i could find my way, i replied: "i have hunted on every acre of ground between here and fort hays. i can almost keep my route by the bones of the dead buffaloes." "never fear about cody, captain," curtis added; "he is as good in the dark as he is in the daylight." by ten o'clock that night i was on my way to fort hays, sixty-five miles distant across the country. it was pitch-dark, but this i liked, as it lessened the probability of the indians' seeing me unless i stumbled on them by accident. my greatest danger was that my horse might run into a hole and fall, and in this way get away from me. to avoid any such accident i tied one end of my rawhide lariat to my belt and the other to the bridle. i did not propose to be left alone, on foot, on that prairie. before i had traveled three miles the horse, sure enough, stepped into a prairie dog's hole. down he went, throwing me over his head. he sprang to his feet before i could catch the bridle, and galloped away into the darkness. but when he reached the end of his lariat he discovered that he was picketed to bison william. i brought him up standing, recovered my gun, which had fallen to the ground, and was soon in the saddle again. twenty-five miles from fort larned the country became rougher, and i had to travel more carefully. also i proceeded as quietly as possible, for i knew i was in the vicinity of the indians who had been lately encamped on walnut creek. but when i came up near the creek i unexpectedly rode in among a herd of horses. the animals became frightened, and ran off in all directions. without pausing to make any apology, i backed out as quickly as possible. but just at that minute a dog, not fifty yards away, set up a howl. soon i heard indians talking. they had been guarding the horses, and had heard the hoofbeats of my horse. in an instant they were on their ponies and after me. i urged my mount to full speed up the creek bottom, taking chances of his falling into a hole. the indians followed me as fast as they could, but i soon outdistanced them. i struck the old santa fe trail ten miles from fort hays just at daybreak. shortly after reveille i rode into the post, where colonel moore, to whom i reported, asked for the dispatches from captain parker for general sheridan. he asked me to give them into his hands, but i said i preferred to hand them to the general in person. sheridan, who was sleeping in the same building, heard our voices and bade me come into his room. "hello, cody!" he said. "is that you?" "yes, sir," i said. "i have dispatches for you." he read them hurriedly, told me they were very important, and asked all about the outbreak of the kiowas and comanches. i gave him all the information i possessed. "bill," said general sheridan, "you've had a pretty lively ride. i suppose you're tired after your long journey." "not very," i said. "come in and have breakfast with me." "no, thank you. hays city is only a mile from here. i know every one there and want to go over and have a time." "very well, do as you please, but come back this afternoon, for i want to see you." i got little rest at hays city, and yet i was soon to set out on another hard ninety-five-mile journey. chapter v when i rode back to general sheridan's headquarters, after a visit with old friends at hays city, i noticed several scouts in a little group engaged in conversation on some important topic. upon inquiry i learned that general sheridan wanted a dispatch sent to fort dodge, a distance of ninety-five miles. the indians had recently killed two or three men engaged in carrying dispatches over this route. on this account none of the scouts were at all anxious to volunteer. a reward of several hundred dollars had failed to secure any takers. the scouts had heard of what i had done the day before. they asked me if i did not think the journey to fort dodge dangerous. i gave as my opinion that a man might possibly go through without seeing an indian, but that the chances were ten to one that he would have an exceedingly lively run before he reached his destination, provided he got there at all. leaving the scouts arguing as to whether any of them would undertake the venture, i reported to general sheridan. he informed me that he was looking for a man to carry dispatches to fort dodge, and, while we were talking, dick parr, his chief of scouts, came in to inform him that none of his scouts would volunteer. upon hearing this, i said: "general, if no one is ready to volunteer, i'll carry your dispatches myself." "i had not thought of asking you to do this, cody," said the general. "you are already pretty hard-worked. but it is really important that these dispatches should go through." "if you don't get a courier before four this afternoon, i'll be ready for business," i told him. "all i want is a fresh horse. meanwhile i'll get a little more rest." it was not much of a rest, however, that i got. i went over to hays city and had a "time" with the boys. coming back to the post at the appointed hour, i found that no scout had volunteered. i reported to the general, who had secured an excellent horse for me. handing me the dispatches, he said: "you can start as soon as you wish. the sooner the better. and good luck to you, my boy!" an hour later i was on my way. at dusk i crossed the smoky hill river. i did not urge my horse much, as i was saving him for the latter end of the journey, or for any run i might have to make should the "wild boys" jump me. though i kept a sharp watch through the night i saw no indians, and had no adventures worth relating. just at daylight i found myself approaching saw log river, having ridden about seventy-five miles. a company of colored cavalry, under command of major cox, was stationed at this point. i approached the camp cautiously. the darky soldiers had a habit of shooting first and crying "halt!" afterward. when i got within hearing distance i called out, and was answered by one of the pickets. i shouted to him not to shoot, informing him that i carried dispatches from fort hays. then, calling the sergeant of the guard, i went up to the vidette, who at once recognized me, and took me to the tent of major cox. this officer supplied me with a fresh horse, as requested by general sheridan in a letter i brought to him. after an hour's sleep and a meal, i jumped into the saddle, and before sunrise was on my way. i reached fort dodge, twenty-five miles further on, between nine and ten o'clock without having seen a single indian. when i had delivered my dispatches, johnny austin, an old friend, who was chief of scouts at the post, invited me to come to his house for a nap. when i awoke austin told me there had been indians all around the post. he was very much surprised that i had seen none of them. they had run off cattle and horses, and occasionally killed a man. indians, he said, were also very thick on the arkansas river between fort dodge and fort larned, and had made considerable trouble. the commanding officer of fort dodge was very anxious to send dispatches to fort larned, but the scouts, like those at fort hays, were backward about volunteering. fort larned was my post, and i wanted to go there anyhow. so i told austin i would carry the dispatches, and if any of the boys wanted to go along i would be glad of their company. this offer was reported to the commanding officer. he sent for me, and said he would be glad to have me take the dispatches, if i could stand the trip after what i had already done. "all i want is a fresh horse, sir," said i. "i am sorry we haven't a decent horse," he replied, "but we have a reliable and honest government mule, if that will do you." "trot out the mule," i told him. "it is good enough for me. i am ready at any time." the mule was forthcoming. at dark i pulled out for fort larned, and proceeded without interruption to coon creek, thirty miles from fort dodge. i had left the wagon road some distance to the south, and traveled parallel to it. this i decided would be the safer course, as the indians might be lying in watch for dispatch-bearers and scouts along the main road. at coon creek i dismounted and led the mule down to the river to get a drink of water. while i was drinking the brute jerked loose and struck out down the creek. i followed him, trusting that he would catch his foot in the bridle rein and stop, but he made straight for the wagon road, where i feared indians would be lurking, without a pause. at last he struck the road, but instead of turning back toward fort dodge he headed for fort larned, keeping up a jogtrot that was just too fast to permit me to overtake him. i had my gun in hand, and was sorely tempted to shoot him more than once, and probably would have done so but for the fear of bringing the indians down on me. but he was going my way, so i trudged along after him mile after mile, indulging from time to time in strong language regarding the entire mule fraternity. the mule stuck to the road and kept on for fort larned, and i did the same thing. the distance was thirty-five miles. as day was beginning to break, we--the mule and myself--found ourselves on a hill looking down on the pawnee fork, on which fort larned was located, only four miles away. when the sunrise gun sounded we were within half a mile of the post. i was thoroughly out of patience by this time. "now, mr. mule," i said, "it is my turn," and threw my gun to my shoulder. like the majority of government mules, he was not easy to kill. he died hard, but he died. hearing the report of the gun, the troops came rushing out to see what was the matter. when they heard my story they agreed that the mule had got no more than his deserts. i took the saddle and bridle and proceeded to the post, where i delivered my dispatches to captain parker. i then went to dick curtis's house at the scouts' headquarters and put in several hours of solid sleep. during the day general hazen returned from fort harker. he had important dispatches to send to general sheridan. i was feeling highly elated over my ride, and as i was breaking the scout records i volunteered for this mission. the general accepted my offer, though he said there was no necessity of my killing myself. i said i had business which called me to fort hays, anyway, and that it would make no difference to the other scouts if he gave me the job, as none of them were particularly eager for the journey. accordingly, that night, i mounted an excellent horse, and next morning at daylight reached general sheridan's headquarters at fort hays. the general was surprised to see me, and still more so when i told him of the time i had made on the rides i had successfully undertaken. i believe this record of mine has never been beaten in a country infested with indians and subject to blizzards and other violent weather conditions. to sum up, i had ridden from fort larned to fort zarrah, a distance of sixty-five miles and back in twelve hours. ten miles must be added to this for the distance the indians took me across the arkansas river. in the succeeding twenty-four hours i had gone from fort larned to fort hays, sixty-five miles, in eight hours. during the next twenty-four hours i rode from fort hays to fort dodge, ninety-five miles. the following night i traveled from fort dodge to fort larned, thirty miles on mule back and thirty-five miles on foot, in twelve hours, and the next night sixty-five miles more from fort larned to fort hays. altogether i had ridden and walked three hundred and sixty-five miles in fifty-eight hours, an average of over six miles an hour. taking into consideration the fact that most of this riding was done in the night over wild country, with no roads to follow, and that i had continually to look out for indians, it was regarded at the time as a big ride as well as a dangerous one. what i have set down here concerning it can be verified by referring to the autobiography of general sheridan. general sheridan complimented me highly on this achievement. he told me i need not report back to general hazen, as he had more important work for me to do. the fifth cavalry, one of the finest regiments of the army, was on its way to the department of the missouri, and he was going to send an expedition against the dog soldier indians who were infesting the republican river region. "cody," he said, "i am going to appoint you guide and chief of scouts of the command. how does that suit you?" i told him it suited me first rate and thanked him for the honor. the dog soldier indians were a band of cheyennes and of unruly, turbulent members of other tribes who would not enter into any treaty, and would have kept no treaty if they had made one. they had always refused to go on a reservation. they got their name from the word "cheyenne," which is derived from chien, the french word for "dog." on the third of october the fifth cavalry arrived at fort hays, and i at once began making the acquaintance of the members of the regiment. general sheridan introduced me to colonel royal, the commander, whom i found a gallant officer and an agreeable gentleman. i also became acquainted with major w.h. brown, major walker, captain sweetman, quartermaster e.m. hays, and many others of the men with whom i was soon to be associated. general sheridan, being anxious to punish the indians who had lately fought general forsythe, did not give the regiment much of a rest. on october 5th it began the march to beaver creek country. the first night we camped on the south fork of big creek, four miles west of hays city. by this time i had become well acquainted with major brown and captain sweetman. they invited me to mess with them, and a jolly mess we had. there were other scouts with the command besides myself. i particularly remember tom kenahan, hank fields, and a character called "nosey." the morning of the 6th we pulled out to the north. during the day i was particularly struck with the appearance of the regiment. it was a beautiful command, and when strung out on the prairies with, a train of seventy-five six-mule wagons, ambulances, and pack-mules, i felt very proud of my position as guide and chief of scouts with such a warlike expedition. just as we were going into camp on the saline river that night we ran into a band of some fifteen indians. they saw us, and dashed across the creek, followed by some bullets which we sent after them. this little band proved to be only a scouting party, so we followed it only a mile or two. our attention was directed shortly to a herd of buffaloes, and we killed ten or fifteen for the command. next day we marched thirty miles. when we went into camp colonel royal asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for the boys. "all right, colonel," i said; "send along a wagon to bring in the meat." "i am not in the habit of sending out my wagons till i know there is something to be hauled in," he said. "kill your buffaloes first, and i'll send the wagons." without further words i went out on my hunt. after a short absence i returned and asked the colonel to send his wagons for the half-dozen buffaloes i had killed. the following afternoon he again requested me to go out after buffaloes. i didn't ask for any wagons this time, but rode out some distance, and, coming upon a small herd, headed seven or eight of them directly for the camp. instead of shooting them i ran them at full speed right into the place and then killed them one after another in rapid succession. colonel royal, who witnessed the whole proceeding, was annoyed and puzzled, as he could see no good reason why i had not killed the buffaloes on the prairie. coming up angry, he demanded an explanation. "i can't allow any such business as this, cody," he exclaimed. "what do you mean by it!" "i didn't care about asking for wagons this time, colonel," i replied. "i thought i would make the buffaloes furnish their own transportation." the colonel saw the force of my defense, and had no more to say on the subject. no indians had been seen in the vicinity during the day. colonel royal, having posted his pickets, supposed that everything was serene for the night. but before morning we were aroused by shots, and immediately afterward one of the mounted pickets came galloping into camp with the announcement that there were indians close at hand. all the companies fell into line, prepared and eager for action. the men were still new to indian fighting. many of them were excited. but, despite the alarm, no indians made their appearance. upon going to the post where the picket said he had seen them, none were to be found, nor could the faintest trace be discovered. the sentinel, an irishman, insisted that there certainly had been redskins there. "but you must be mistaken," said the colonel. "upon me sowl, i'm not. as sure as me name's pat maloney, wan iv them red devils hit me on th' head with a club, so he did," persisted the picket. when morning came we made a successful effort to clear up the mystery. elk tracks were found in the vicinity, and it was undoubtedly a herd of elk that had frightened the picket. when he turned to flee he must have hit his head on an overhanging limb, which he supposed was the club of a redskin, bent on his murder. it was hard, however, to convince him that he could have been mistaken. three days' march brought us to beaver creek, where we encamped and where scouts were sent out in different directions. none of these parties discovered indians, and they all returned to camp at about the same time. they found it in a state of excitement. a few hours before the return of the scouts the camp had been attacked by a party of redskins, who had killed two men and made off with sixty horses belonging to company h. that evening the command started on the trail of the horse thieves. major brown with two companies and three days' rations pushed ahead in advance of the main command. on the eighteenth day out, being unsuccessful in the chase, and nearly out of rations, the entire command marched toward the nearest railroad station and camped on the saline river, three miles distant from buffalo tank. while waiting for supplies we were joined by a new commanding officer, brevet-major-greneral e.a. carr, who was the senior major of the regiment and ranked colonel royal. he brought with him the celebrated forsythe scouts, who were commanded by lieutenant pepoon, a regular-army officer. while in this camp, major brown welcomed a new lieutenant, who had come to fill a vacancy in the command. this was a.b. bache, and on the day he was to arrive major brown had his private ambulance brought out and invited me to ride with him to the railroad station to meet the lieutenant. on the way to the depot he said: "now, cody, we'll give bache a lively little ride, and shake him up a little." the new arrival was given a back seat in the ambulance when he got off the train, and we headed for the camp. presently major brown took the reins from his driver and at once began whipping the mules. when he had got them into a lively gallop he pulled out his revolver and fired several shots. the road was terribly rough and the night was intensely dark. we could not see where we were going, and it was a wonderful piece of luck that the wagon did not tip over and break our necks. finally bache asked, good-humoredly: "is this the way you break in all your new lieutenants, major?" "oh, no," returned the major. "but this is the way we often ride in this country. keep your seat, mr. bache, and we'll take you through on time," he quoted, from hank monk's famous admonition to horace greeley. we were now rattling down a steep hill at full speed. just as we reached the bottom, the front wheels struck a deep ditch over which the mules had jumped. we were all brought up standing, and bache plunged forward headlong to the front of the vehicle. "take the back seat, lieutenant," said major brown sternly. bache replied that he had been trying to do so, keeping his nerve and his temper. we soon got the wagon out of the ditch and resumed our drive. we swung into camp under full headway, and created considerable amusement. everyone recognized the ambulance, and knew that major brown and i were out for a lark, so little was said about the exploit. next morning at an early hour the command started out on another indian hunt. general carr, who had a pretty good idea where he would be likely to find them, directed me to guide him by the nearest route to elephant fork, on beaver creek. when we arrived at the south fork of the beaver, after two days' march, we discovered a fresh indian trail. we had followed it hurriedly for eight miles when we discovered, on a bluff ahead, a large number of indians. general carr ordered lieutenant pepoon's scouts and company m to the front. company m was commanded by lieutenant schinosky, a reckless dare-devil born in france, who was eager for a brush with the indians. in his anxiety to get into the fight he pushed his company nearly a mile in advance of the main command, when he was jumped by some four hundred indians. until our main force could come to his support he had as lively a little fight as any one could have asked for. as the battle proceeded, the indians continued to increase in numbers. at last it became apparent that we were fighting eight hundred or a thousand of them. the engagement was general. there were killed and wounded on both sides. the indians were obviously fighting to give their families and village a chance to get away. we had surprised them with a larger force than they knew was in that part of the country. the battle continued steadily until dark. we drove them before us, but they fought stubbornly. at night they annoyed us by firing down into our camp from the encircling hills. several times it was necessary to order out the command to dislodge them and to drive them back where they could do no damage. after one of these sallies, captain sweetman, lieutenant bache, and myself were taking supper together when "whang!" came a bullet into mr. bache's plate. we finished our supper without having any more such close calls. at daylight next morning we took the trail again, soon reaching the spot where the indians had camped the night before. here there had been a large village, consisting of five hundred lodges. continuing our pursuit, we came in sight of the retreating village at two in the afternoon. at once the warriors turned back and gave us battle. to delay us as much as possible they set fire to the prairie grass in front and on all sides of us. for the remainder of the afternoon we kept up a running fight. repeatedly the indians attempted to lead us away from the trail of their fleeing village. but their trail was easily followed by the tepee poles, camp-kettles, robes, and all the paraphernalia which proved too heavy to carry for long, and which were dropped in the flight. it was useless to try to follow them after nightfall, and at dark we went into camp. next morning we were again on the trail, which led north and back toward beaver creek. the trail crossed this stream a few miles from where we had first discovered the indians. they had made almost a complete circle in the hope of misleading us. late in the afternoon we again saw them going over a hill far ahead. toward evening the main body of warriors once more came back and fought us, but we continued to drive them till dusk, when we encamped for the night. soon the indians, finding they could not hold out against us, scattered in every direction. we followed the main trail to the republican river, where we made a cut-off and proceeded north toward the platte. here we found that the indians, traveling day and night, had got a long start. general carr decided we had pushed them so hard and given them such a thorough scaring that they would leave the republican country and go north across the railroad. it seemed, therefore, unnecessary to pursue them any further. most of the indians did cross the river near ogallah as he predicted, and thence continued northward. that night we returned to the republican river and camped in a grove of cottonwoods, which i named carr's grove in honor of our commander. general carr informed me that the next day's march would be toward the headwaters of the beaver. i said that the distance was about twenty-five miles, and he said we would make it the next day. getting an early start in the morning, we struck out across the prairie. my position, as guide, was the advance guard. about two o'clock general carr overtook me and asked me how far i supposed it was to water. i replied that i thought it was about eight miles, although we could see no sign of a stream ahead. "pepoon's scouts say you are traveling in the wrong direction," said the general. "they say, the way you are bearing, it will be fifteen miles before we strike any branches of the beaver, and that when you do you will find no water, for they are dry at this season of the year in this locality." "i think the scouts are mistaken, general," i said. "the beaver has more water near its head than it has below. at the place where we will strike the stream we will find immense beaver dams, big and strong enough to cross your whole command if you wish." "well, go ahead," he said. "i leave it to you. but, remember, i don't want a dry camp." "no danger of that," i returned and rode on. as i predicted, we found water seven or eight miles further on. hidden in the hills was a beautiful little tributary of the beaver. we had no trouble in selecting a fine camp with good spring water and excellent grass. learning that the stream, which was but eight miles long, was without a name, the general took out his map, and, locating it, christened it cody's creek, which name it still bears. early the next morning we pulled out for the beaver. as we were approaching the stream i rode on ahead of the advance guard in order to find a crossing. just as i turned a bend of the creek "bang!" went a shot, and down went my horse, accompanied by myself. i disentangled myself and jumped clear of the carcass, turning my guns loose at two indians whom i discovered in the direction from which the shot had come. in the suddenness of it all i missed my aim. the indians fired two or three more shots, and i returned the compliment by wounding one of their horses. on the other side of the creek i saw a few lodges moving rapidly away, and also mounted warriors. they also saw me and began blazing away with their guns. the indians who had killed my horse were retreating across the creek, using a beaver dam for a bridge. i accelerated their pace by sending a few shots after them and also fired at the warriors across the stream. i was undecided as to whether it would be best to run back to the command on foot or to retain my position. the troops, i knew, would come up in a few minutes. the sound of the firing would hasten their arrival. the indians soon saw that i was alone. they turned and charged down the hill, and were about to cross the creek and corral me when the advance guard of the command appeared over the ridge and dashed forward to my rescue. then the redskins whirled and made off. when general carr arrived he ordered company i to pursue the band. i accompanied lieutenant brady, who commanded the company. for several hours we had a running fight with the indians, capturing several of their horses and most of their lodges. at night we returned to the command, which by this time had crossed the dam. for several days we scouted along the river. we had two or three lively skirmishes, but at last our supplies began to run low, and the general ordered us to return to fort wallace, which we reached three days afterward. while the regiment remained here, waiting for orders, i spent most of my time hunting buffaloes. one day while i was out with a small party, fifty indians jumped us, and we had a terrific battle for an hour. we finally managed to drive them off, with four of their warriors killed. with me were a number of excellent marksmen, and they did fine work, sending bullets thick and fast where they would do the most execution. two or three of our horses were hit. one man was wounded. we were ready and willing to stay with the indians as long as they would stay with us. but they gave it up at last. we finished our hunt and returned to the post with plenty of buffalo meat. here we received the compliments of general carr on our little fight. in a few days orders came from general sheridan to make a winter campaign in the canadian river country. we were to proceed to fort lyon on the arkansas river and fit out for the expedition. leaving fort wallace in november, 1868, we arrived at fort lyon in the latter part of the month, and began the work of outfitting. three weeks before this, general penrose had left the post with a command of three hundred men. he had taken no wagons with him. his supply train was composed of pack mules. general carr was ordered to follow with supplies on penrose's trail and to overtake him as soon as possible. i was particularly anxious to catch up with penrose's command, as my old friend, "wild bill," was among his scouts. for the first three days we followed the trail easily. then we were caught in freeze-out caã±on by a fearful snowstorm. this compelled us to go into camp for a day. it now became impossible longer to follow penrose's trail. the ground was covered with snow, and he had left no sign to show in which direction he was going. general carr sent for me, and told me it was highly important that we should not lose the trail. he instructed me to take some scouts, and, while the command remained in camp, to push on as far as possible to seek for some sign that would indicate the direction penrose had taken. accompanied by four men, i started out in a blinding snowstorm. we rode twenty-four miles in a southerly direction till we reached a tributary of the cimarron. from here we scouted up and down the stream for a few miles, and at last turned up one of penrose's old camps. it was now late in the afternoon. if the camp was to come up the next day it was necessary for us to return immediately with our information. we built a fire in a sheltered spot, broiled some venison we had shot during the day, and after a substantial meal i started back alone, leaving the others behind. it was eleven o'clock when i got back into camp. a light was still burning in general carr's tent. he was sitting up to await my return. he was overjoyed at the news i brought him. he had been extremely anxious concerning the safety of penrose. rousing up his cook, he ordered a hot supper for me, which, after my long, cold ride, i greatly appreciated. i passed the night in the general's tent, and woke the next morning fully refreshed and ready for a big day's work. the snow had drifted deeply overnight, and the command had a hard tramp through it when it set out next morning for the cimarron. in many ravines the drifts had filled in to a great depth. often the teamsters had to shovel their way through. at sundown we reached the cimarron, and went into a nice warm camp. the next morning, on looking around, we found that penrose, who was not encumbered with wagons, had kept on the west side of the cimarron. here the country was so rough that we could not stay on the trail with wagons. but we knew that he would continue down the river, and the general gave orders to take the best route down-stream, which i found to be on the east side. before we could make any headway with our wagon trains we had to leave the river and get out on the divide. for some distance we found a good road, but suddenly we were brought up standing on a high table-land overlooking the beautiful winding creek that lay far below us. how to get the wagons down became a serious problem for the officers. we were in the foothills of the rough raton mountains. the bluff we were on was steep and rugged. "cody," said general carr, "we're in a nice fix now." "that's nothing," i replied. "but you never can take the train down." "never mind the train, general. you are looking for a good camp. how does that valley suit you?" "that will do," he said. "i can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down is a puzzler." "by the time your camp is located the wagons will be there," i said. "all right," he returned. "i'll leave it to you, inasmuch as you seem to want to be the boss." he ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain. when the wagon-train, which was a mile in the rear, came up, one of the drivers asked: "how are we going to get down there?" "run down, slide down, fall down--any way to get down," i told him. "we never can do it," said another wagon-master. "it's too steep. the wagons will run over the mules." "oh, no," i said. "the mules will have to keep out of the way." i instructed wilson, the chief wagon-master, to bring up his mess-wagon. he drove the wagon to the brink of the bluff. following my directions, he brought out extra chains with which we locked both wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them. this done, we started the wagons down the hill. the wheel-horses, or rather the wheel-mules, were good on the hold back, and we got along beautifully till the wagon had nearly reached the bottom of the declivity. then the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on the run and came galloping down into the valley to the spot general carr had selected for his camp. there was not the slightest accident. three other wagons followed in the same way. in half an hour every wagon was in the camp. it was an exciting sight to see the six-mule teams come almost straight down the mountainside and finally break into a run. at times it seemed certain that the wagon must turn a somersault and land on the mules, but nothing of the kind happened. our march proved be a lucky one so far as gaining on penrose was concerned. the route he had taken on the west side of the stream was rough and bad, and with our great wagon-train we made as many miles in one day as he had in seven. his command had taken a high table-land whose sides were so steep that not even a pack mule could make the descent, and he had been obliged to retrace the trail for a great distance, losing three days while doing so. the incident of this particular camp we had selected was an exciting turkey hunt. we found the trees along the river bank literally alive with turkeys. after unsaddling the horses, two or three hundred soldiers surrounded a grove of timber, and there was a grand turkey round-up. guns, clubs, and even stones were used as weapons. of course, after the hunt we had roast turkey, boiled turkey, fried turkey, and turkey on toast for our fare, and in honor of the birds which had provided this treat we named the place camp turkey. when we left camp we had an easy trail for several days. penrose had taken a southerly direction toward the canadian river. no indians were to be seen, nor did we find any signs of them. one day, while riding in advance of the command down san francisco creek, i heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the opposite bank of the stream. looking closely at the spot, i saw a colored soldier. "sakes alive, massa bill, am dat you?" shouted the man, whom i recognized as a member of the tenth cavalry. "come out o' heah," i heard him call to someone behind him. "heah's massa buffalo bill." then he sang out to me: "massa bill, is you got any hahdtack?" "nary a bit of hardtack, but the wagons will be along presently, and you can get all you want." "dat's de best news ah's heahd fo' sixteen long days, massa bill." "where's your command? where's general penrose?" i demanded. "dunno," said the darky. "we got lost, an' we's been starvin' ever since." by this time two other negroes had emerged from their hiding-place. they had deserted penrose's command, which was out of rations and in a starving condition. they were trying to make their way back to old fort lyon. general carr concluded, from what they could tell him, that penrose was somewhere on polladora creek. but nothing definite was to be gleaned from the starving darkies, for they knew very little themselves. general carr was deeply distressed to learn that penrose and his men were in such bad shape. he ordered major brown to start out the next morning with two companies of cavalry and fifty pack mules, loaded with provisions, and to make all possible speed to reach and relieve the suffering soldiers. i went with this detachment. on the third day out we found the half-famished soldiers encamped on the polladora. the camp presented a pitiful sight. for over two weeks the men had only quarter rations and were now nearly starved to death. over two hundred mules were lying dead, having succumbed to fatigue and starvation. penrose, having no hope that he would be found, had sent back a company of the seventh cavalry to fort lyon for supplies. as yet no word had been heard from them. the rations brought by major brown arrived none too soon. they were the means of saving many lives. almost the first man i saw after reaching the camp was my true and tried friend, "wild bill." that night we had a jolly reunion around the campfires. when general carr came up with his force, he took command of all the troops, as he was the senior officer. when a good camp had been selected he unloaded his wagons and sent them back to fort lyon for supplies. he then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, started south for the canadian river. the remainder of the troops were left at the supply camp. i was ordered to accompany the expedition bound for the canadian river. we struck the south fork of this stream at a point a few miles above the old adobe walls that were once a fort. here kit carson had had a big indian fight. we were now within twelve miles of a new supply depot called fort evans, established for the third cavalry and evans's expedition from new mexico. the scouts who brought this information reported also that they expected the arrival of a bull-train from new mexico with a large quantity of beer for the soldiers. "wild bill" and i determined to "lay" for this beer. that very evening it came along, and the beer destined for the soldiers at fort evans never reached them. it went straight down the thirsty throats of general carr's command. the mexicans living near fort evans had brewed the beer. they were taking it to fort evans to sell to the troops. but it found a better market without going so far. it was sold to our boys in pint cups, and, as the weather was very cold, we warmed it by putting the ends of our picket pins, heated red-hot, into the brew before we partook of it. the result was one of the biggest beer jollifications it has ever been my misfortune to attend. one evening general carr summoned me to his tent. he said he wanted to send some scouts with dispatches to fort supply, to be forwarded from there to general sheridan. he ordered me to call the scouts together and to select the men who were to go. i asked if i were to go, but he replied that he could not spare me. the distance to camp supply was about two hundred miles. because of the very cold weather it was sure to be a hard trip. none of the scouts were at all keen about undertaking it, but it was finally settled that "wild bill," "little geary," a half-breed, and three other scouts should carry the dispatches. they took their departure the next day with orders to return as soon, as possible. we scouted for several days along the canadian river, finding no sign of indians. the general then returned to camp, and soon our wagon-train returned with provisions from fort lyon. our animals were in poor condition, so we remained in different camps along san francisco creek and on the north fork of the canadian till "wild bill" and his scouts returned from fort supply. among the scouts in penrose's command were fifteen mexicans. among them and the americans a bitter feud existed. when carr united penrose's command with his own, and i was made chief of scouts, this feud grew more intense than ever. the mexicans often threatened to "clean us out," but they postponed the execution of the threat from time to time. at last, however, when we were all in the sutler's store, the long-expected fight took place, with the result that the mexicans were severely beaten. on hearing of the row, general carr sent for "wild bill" and me. from various reports he had made up his mind that we were the instigators of the affair. after listening to what we had to say, however, he decided that the mexicans were as much to blame as we were. it is possible that both "wild bill" and i had imbibed a few more drinks than we needed that evening. general carr said to me: "cody, there are plenty of antelopes in the country. you can do some hunting while we stay here." after that my time was spent in the chase, and i had fine success. i killed from twenty to twenty-five antelopes every day, and the camp was supplied with fresh meat. when the horses and mules belonging to the outfit had been sufficiently recruited to travel, we returned to fort lyon, reaching there in march, 1869. the command recruited and rested for thirty days before proceeding to the department of the platte, whither it had been ordered. at my request, general carr kindly granted me a month's leave of absence to visit my family in st. louis. he instructed captain hays, our quartermaster, to let me ride my mule and horse to sheridan, 140 miles distant. at sheridan i was to take the train for st. louis. i was instructed to leave the animals in the quartermaster's corral at fort wallace until i should come back. instead of doing this, i put them both in charge of my old friend perry, the hotel-keeper at sheridan. after twenty days, pleasantly spent with my family at st. louis, i returned to sheridan. there i learned that my horse and mule had been seized by the government. the quartermaster's agent at sheridan had reported to general bankhead, commanding at fort wallace, and to captain laufer, the quartermaster, that i had left the country and had sold the animals to perry. laufer took possession of the animals, and threatened to have perry arrested for buying government property. he refused to pay any attention to perry's statement that i would return in a few days, and that the animals had merely been left in his care. as soon as i found this out i proceeded to the office of the quartermaster's agent who had told this lie, and gave him the thrashing he richly deserved. when i had finished with him he hastened to the fort, reported what had happened, and returned with a guard to protect him. next morning, securing a horse from perry, i rode to fort wallace and demanded my horse and mule from general bankhead. i told him they were quartermaster hays's property and belonged to general carr's command, and explained that i had obtained permission to ride them to sheridan and return. general bankhead gruffly ordered me out of his office and off the reservation, declaring that if i didn't leave in a hurry he would have me removed by force. i told him he might do this and be hanged, using, very possibly, a stronger expression. that night, while sleeping at the perry house, i was awakened by a tap on my shoulder and was astonished to see the room filled with armed negro soldiers with their guns all pointed at me. the first word came from the sergeant. "now looka heah, massa bill; if you move we'll blow you off de fahm, suah!" just then captain ezekial entered, and ordered the soldiers to stand back. "i'm sorry, bill," he said, when i demanded to know what this meant. "but i've been ordered by general bankhead to arrest you and bring you to fort wallace." "all right," said i. "but you could have made the arrest without bringing the whole thirty-eighth infantry with you." "i know that, bill, but you've not been in a very good humor the last day or two, and we didn't know how you'd act." i dressed hurriedly and accompanied the captain to fort wallace. when we reached there at two o'clock in the morning the captain said: "bill, i'm sorry, but my orders are to put you in the guardhouse." i told him i did not blame him for carrying out orders, and was made a guardhouse prisoner for the first and only time in my life. the sergeant of the guard, who was an old friend from captain graham's company, refused to put me in a cell, kindly allowing me to sleep in his own bed, and in a few minutes i was sound asleep. captain graham called to see me in the morning. he said it was a shame to lock me up, and promised to speak to the general about it. at guard-mount, when i was not summoned, i sent word to captain graham that i wanted to see general bankhead. he sent back word that the general refused to have anything to do with me. as it was impossible to send word to general carr, i determined to send a dispatch direct to general sheridan. i wrote out a long telegram, informing him of my difficulty. but when it was taken to the telegraph office for transmission the operator refused to send it at once. instead he showed it to general bankhead, who tore it up. when no reply came i went to the office, accompanied by a guard, and learned from the operator what he had done. "see here, my young friend," said i, "this is a public telegraph line. i want my telegram sent, or there'll be trouble." he knew very well it was his duty to send the dispatch. i rewrote it and gave it to him, with the money to pay for it. but before he made any effort to transmit it he called on general bankhead and informed him of what i had said. seeing that the dispatch would have to go through, the general sent for me. "if i let you go, sir, will you leave the post at once and not bother anyone at sheridan?" he demanded. "no, sir," i replied, "i'll do nothing of the kind. i'll remain in the guardhouse till i get an answer from general sheridan." "if i give you your horse and mule will you proceed at once to fort lyon?" "no, sir; i have some bills to settle at sheridan and some other business to transact." "well, sir, will you at least promise not to interfere any further with the quartermaster's agent at sheridan?" "i shall not trouble him any more, sir. i have had all i want from him." general bankhead thereupon sent for captain laufer and ordered him to turn the horse and mule over to me. in a few minutes i was on my way to sheridan, and, having settled my business there, i proceeded to fort lyon, arriving there two days afterward. i related my adventures to general carr, major brown, and the other officers, who were highly amused thereby. chapter vi when i returned to general carr's command after my experience as a prisoner i was informed that the general had been waiting for me for two weeks. "i'm glad you've come, bill," said the general. "while we've been at this post a number of valuable animals have been stolen, as well as many government horses and mules. we think the thieves are still near the fort. fresh tracks have been found near fort lyon. perhaps bill green, the scout who has been up there, can tell you something about them." sending for green, i found that he had marked the place where he had lost the trail of the marauders. next morning, accompanied by green, jack farley, and another scout, i set out after the horse-thieves. while making a circuit about the tracks we had found leading away from the spot where green discovered them, we found the trail of twelve animals--four mules and eight horses--in the edge of the sandhills. from this point we had no trouble in trailing them down to the arkansas river. this stream they had followed toward denver, whither they were undoubtedly bound. when we got within four miles of denver we found that the thieves had passed four days before. i concluded that they had decided to dispose of the animals in denver. i was aware that saturday was the big auction day there, so we went to a hotel outside the town to await that day. i was too well known in the city to show myself there, for the thieves would have taken alarm had they learned of my presence. early saturday morning we rode into the city and stabled our animals at the elephant corral. i secured a room in a hotel overlooking the corral, and took up a post of observation. i did not have to wait long. a man, whom i recognized at once as williams, one of our old packers, rode into the ring, mounted on lieutenant forbush's mule, and leading another government mule. this mule had been recently branded, and over the "u.s." a plain "d b" had been stamped. as the man's confederate did not appear i decided he was outside with the rest of the stolen animals. when mr. forbush's mule was put up at auction i came down to the corral and walked through the crowd of bidders. the packer saw me, and tried to get away, but i seized him firmly by the shoulder. "i guess, my friend," said i, "that you'll have to go with me. make any resistance and i'll shoot you on the spot!" to the auctioneer and an inquisitive officer i showed my commission as a united states detective. with farley and green, who were close at hand, i took my prisoner three miles down the platte. there we dismounted, and began preparations to hang our prisoner to a limb. we informed him that he could escape this fate only by telling us where his partner was hidden. he at first denied having any partner, but when we gave him five minutes to live unless he told the truth, he said his pal was in an unoccupied house three miles farther down the river. we took up our journey, and, coming in sight of the house, saw a number of animals grazing near it. as we rode to the door, another of our old packers, whom i recognized as bill bevins, stepped to the front door. i instantly covered him with my rifle and ordered him to throw up his hands before he could draw his revolver. looking through the house, we found saddles, pack-saddles, lariats, blankets, overcoats, and two henry rifles. we returned with the whole outfit to denver, where we lodged williams and bevins in jail. the next day we tied each man to a mule and started on the return journey. at the hotel where we had stopped before making the arrests, we were joined by our man with the pack mule. that night we camped on cherry creek, seventeen miles from denver. it was april, and the weather was cold and stormy. we found a warm and cozy camping-place in the bend of the creek. we made our beds in a row--feet to the fire. the prisoners had thus far been docile and i did not think it necessary to hobble them. they slept inside, and it was arranged that some one was to be constantly on guard. about one o'clock in the morning it began snowing. shortly before three, jack farley, who was on guard, and sitting at the foot of the bed with his back to the prisoners, was kicked into the fire by williams. the next instant bevins, who had got hold of his shoes, sprang up, jumped over the fire, and started away on the run. as soon as i was enough awake to comprehend what was going on i sent a shot after him. williams attempted to follow bevins, but as he did so i knocked him down with the butt of my revolver. farley had by this time got out of the fire. green had started after bevins, firing at him as he ran, but the thief made his escape into the brush. in his flight, unfortunately for him, he dropped one of his shoes. leaving williams in charge of farley and "long doc," the man with the pack mule, green and i struck out for bevins. we heard him breaking through the brush, but, knowing it would be useless to try to follow him on foot, we went back and saddled two of the fastest horses. at daylight we struck out on his trail, which was plainly visible in the snow. though he had an hour and a half's start his track lay through a country covered with prickly pear. we knew that with a bare foot he could make little progress. we could see, however by the long jumps he was taking, that he was making excellent time. soon the trail became spotted with blood, where the thorns of the prickly pear had pierced his shoeless foot. after a run of twelve miles we saw bevins crossing a ridge two miles ahead. we reached the ridge just as he was descending the divide toward the south platte, which at this point was very deep and swift. if he got across the stream he stood a good chance of escape. we pushed our horses as fast as possible, and when we got within range i told him to halt or i would shoot. he knew i was a good shot, and coolly sat down to wait for us. "bevins, you gave us a good chase," i said, as we rode up. "yes," he returned calmly, "and if i'd had fifteen minutes' more start and got across the platte you'd never have caught me." bevins's flight was the most remarkable feat of its kind i have ever heard of. a man who could run barefooted in the snow through a prickly-pear patch was surely a "tough one." when i looked at the man's bleeding foot i really felt sorry for him. he asked me for my knife, and when i gave it to him he dug the thorns out of his foot with its sharp point. i consider him the gamest man i ever met. i could not suffer a man with such a foot to walk, so i dismounted, and he rode my horse back to camp, while green and i rode the other horse by turns. we kept a close watch on our prisoner. we had had plenty of proof that he needed it. his injured foot must have pained him fearfully, but never a word of complaint escaped him. after breakfasting we resumed our journey. we had no further trouble till we reached the arkansas river, where we found a vacant cabin and took possession of it for the night. there was no fear that bevins would try to escape. his foot was swollen to a great size, and was useless. believing that williams could not get away from the cabin, we unbound him. the cabin was comfortably warmed and well-lighted by the fire. we left "long doc" on guard and went to sleep. at one o'clock williams asked "doc" to allow him to step to the door for a minute. "doc" had his revolver in hand, and did not think it necessary to waken us. he granted the request. with "doc," revolver in hand, watching him, williams walked to the outer edge of the floor. suddenly he made a spring to the right and was out of sight in the black darkness before his guard could even raise his revolver. "doc" leaped after him, firing just as he rounded the corner of the cabin. the report brought us all to our feet. i at once covered bevins with my revolver, but, seeing that he could barely stir, i lowered it. then in came "doc," swearing a blue streak and announcing that williams had escaped. nothing was left us but to gather our horses close to the cabin and stand guard the rest of the night to prevent the possibility of our late prisoner sneaking in and getting away with one of them. this was the last i ever saw or heard of williams, but we got back to fort lyon with bevins. though we had lost one of our prisoners, general carr complimented us on the success of our trip. the next day we took bevins to bogg's ranch, on picket wire creek, where he was to await trial. but he never was tried. he made his escape, as i had expected he would do. in 1872 i heard that he was at his old tricks on laramie plains. a little later he sent word to me that if he ever met me he would kill me on sight. shortly thereafter he was arrested and convicted for robbery, but made his escape from laramie city prison. later he organized a desperate gang of outlaws which infested the country north of the union pacific. when, the stage began running between cheyenne and deadwood, these outlaws robbed coaches and passengers, often making big hauls of plunder. finally most of the gang were caught, tried, and convicted, and sent to the penitentiary for a number of years. bevins was among the number. soon after my return to fort lyon, the fifth cavalry was ordered to the department of the platte. while we were at fort wallace, getting supplies en route i passed the quarters of general bankhead, who had ordered my arrest on the occasion of my last visit to that post. the general sent out for me, and as i entered his office he extended his hand. "i hope you have no hard feelings for me, cody," he said. "i have just had a talk with general carr and quartermaster hays. if you had told me you had permission to ride that horse and mule, there would have been no trouble." "that's all right, general," i said. "i don't believe your quartermaster's agent will ever circulate any more false stories about me." "no," said the general; "he hasn't recovered yet from the beating you gave him." when the command reached the north fork of the beaver, i rode down the valley toward the stream, and discovered a large fresh indian trail. i found tracks scattered all over the valley and on both sides of the creek, as if a large village had recently passed that way. i estimated there could not be less than four hundred lodges, or between twenty-five hundred and three thousand warriors, women, and children in the band. when i reported my discovery to general carr, he halted his regiment, and, after consulting a few minutes, ordered me to select a ravine, or as low ground as possible, so that the troops might be kept out of sight of the indians until we could strike the creek. we went into camp on the beaver. the general ordered lieutenant ward to take twelve men and myself and follow up the trail for several miles. our orders were to find out how fast the indians were traveling. i soon made up my mind by the frequency of their camps that they were moving slowly, hunting as they journeyed. after we had scouted about twelve miles, keeping our horses well concealed under the bank of the creek, ward and i left our horses and crept to a high knoll where there was a good view for some distance down-stream. as we looked over the summit of the hill we saw a whole indian village, not three miles away. thousands of ponies were grazing on the prairie. to our left, on the opposite side of the creek, two or three parties of indians were coming in, laden with buffalo meat. "this is no place for us, lieutenant," said i. "i think we have business at the camp which must be attended to as soon as possible." "i agree with you," he returned. "the quicker we get there the better." we came down the hill as fast as we could and joined our men. lieutenant ward hurriedly wrote a note and sent it to general carr by a corporal. as the man started away on a gallop ward said: "we will march, slowly back until we meet the troops. i think general carr will soon be here." a minute or two later we heard shots in the direction taken by our courier. presently he came flying back around the bend of the creek, with three or four indians in hot pursuit. the lieutenant, with his squad of soldiers, charged upon them. they turned and ran across the stream. "this will not do," said ward, when the last redskin had disappeared. "the whole village will know the soldiers are near by." "lieutenant," said i, "give me that note. i'll take it to the general." he gladly handed me the dispatch. spurring my horse, i dashed up the creek. soon i observed another party of indians returning to the village with meat. i did not wait for them to attack me, but sent a shot after them at long range. in less than an hour i reached the camp and delivered the dispatch to general carr. "boots and saddles" was sounded, and all the troops save two companies, which were left to guard the supply train, were soon galloping toward the indian camp. when we had ridden three miles we met lieutenant ward. he had run into a party of indian hunters. one of their number had been killed in the encounter, and one of ward's horses had been wounded. at the end of five miles we came in sight of hundreds of indians, advancing up the creek to meet us. they formed a complete line on our front. general carr, who wanted to strike their village, ordered the troops to charge, break through the line, and keep straight on. no doubt this movement would have been successfully executed had it not been for the daredevil, rattle-brained lieutenant schinosky, commanding company b. misunderstanding the orders, he charged on the indians on the left, while the rest of the command swept through the line. the main body was keeping straight on toward the village when it was discovered that schinosky and his company were surrounded by five hundred indians. to save the company, general carr was forced to order a halt and hurry back to the rescue. during the short fight schinosky had several men and a number of horses killed. valuable time had been consumed by the rescue. night was coming on. the indians were fighting desperately to keep us from reaching their village, whose population, having been informed by courier of what was going on, was packing up and getting away. during the afternoon we had all we could do to hold our own with the mounted warriors. they stayed stubbornly in our front, contesting every inch of ground. the wagon-train, which had been ordered to come up, had not arrived. fearful that it had been surrounded, general carr ordered the command to return and look for it. we found it at nine o'clock that night, and went into camp. next morning, when we moved down the creek, not an indian was to be seen. village and all, they had disappeared. two miles down the stream we came to a spot where the village had been located. here we found many articles which had been left in the hurry of flight. these we gathered up and burned. the trail, which we followed as rapidly as possible, led northeast toward the republican river. on reaching that stream a halt was ordered. next morning at daylight we again pulled out. we gained rapidly on the indians, and could occasionally see them from a distance. about eleven o 'clock that morning, while major babcock was ahead with his company, and as we were crossing a deep ravine, we were surprised by perhaps three hundred warriors. they at once began a lively fire. our men galloped out of the ravine to the rough prairie and returned it. we soon succeeded in driving the enemy before us. at one time we were so close upon them that they threw away most of their lodges and camp equipment, and left their played-out horses behind them. for miles we could see indian furniture strewn in all directions. soon they scattered into small bodies, dividing the trail. at night our horses began to give out, and a halt was called. a company was detailed to collect all the loose indian ponies, and to burn the abandoned camp equipment. we were now nearly out of rations. i was sent for supplies to the nearest supply point, old fort kearney, sixty miles distant. shortly after this the command reached fort mcpherson, which for some time thereafter continued to be the headquarters of the fifth cavalry. we remained there for ten days, fitting out for a new expedition. we were reã«nforced by three companies of the celebrated pawnee indian scouts, commanded by major frank north. at general carr's recommendation i was now made chief of scouts in the department of the platte, with better pay. i had not sought this position. i became a firm friend of major north and his officers from the start. the scouts had made a good reputation for themselves. they had performed brave and valuable services in fighting against the sioux, whose bitter enemies they were. during our stay at fort mcpherson i made the acquaintance of lieutenant george p. belden, known as "the white chief." his life has been written by colonel brisbin, of the army. belden was a dashing rider and an excellent shot. an hour after our introduction he challenged me to a rifle match, which was at once arranged. we were to shoot ten shots each at two hundred yards for fifty dollars a side. belden was to use a henry rifle. i was to shoot my old "lucretia." this match i won. belden at once proposed another, a hundred-yard match, as i was shooting over his distance. this he won. we were now even, and we stopped right there. while we were at fort mcpherson, general augur and brevet-brigadier-general thomas duncan, colonel of the fifth cavalry, paid us a visit for the purpose of reviewing our command. the men turned out in fine style, and showed themselves to be well-drilled soldiers. next the pawnee scouts were reviewed. it was amusing to see them in their full uniform. they had been supplied with the regular cavalry uniform, but on this occasion some of them had heavy overcoats, others large black hats with all the brass accoutrements attached; some were minus trousers and wore only breech-clouts. some had regulation pantaloons, but only shirts. part of them had cut the breech of their pantaloons away, leaving only the leggings. still others had big brass spurs, but wore no boots nor moccasins. but they understood the drill remarkably well for indians. the commands were given them by major north, who spoke their tongue as readily as any full-blooded pawnee. they were well mounted, and felt proud of the fact that they were regular united states soldiers. that evening after the drill many ladies attended the dance of the indians. of all savages i have ever seen, the pawnees are the most accomplished dancers. our command set out on the trail the next day. shortly afterward, when we were encamped on the republican river near the mouth of the beaver, we heard the yells of indians, followed by shots, in the vicinity of our mule herd, which had been driven down to water. presently one of the herders, with an arrow still quivering in his flesh, came dashing into the camp. my horse was close at hand. mounting him bareback, i galloped after the mule herd, which had been stampeded. i supposed that i would be the first man on the scene. but i found i was mistaken. the pawnee scouts, unlike regular soldiers, had not waited for the formality of orders from their officers. jumping their ponies bareback and putting ropes in the animals' mouths, they had hurried to the place from which the shots came and got there before i did. the marauders proved to be a party of fifty or more sioux, who had endeavored to stampede our animals. they were painfully surprised to find their inveterate enemies, the pawnees, coming toward them at full gallop. they had no idea the pawnees were with the command. they knew that it would take regular soldiers a few minutes to turn out, and fancied they would have plenty of time to stampede the herd and get away. in a running fight of fifteen or twenty miles several of the sioux were killed. i was mounted on an excellent horse colonel royal had selected for me. for the first mile or two i was in advance of the pawnees. soon a pawnee shot past me. i could not help admiring the horse he was riding. i determined that if possible that horse should be mine. he was a big buckskin, or yellow horse. i took a careful look at him, so as to recognize him when we got back to camp. after the chase was over i rode over to major north and asked him about the animal. i was told that he was one of the favorite steeds of the command. "what chance is there to trade for him?" i asked. "it is a government horse," replied the major. "the indian who rides him is very much attached to him." i told major north i had fallen in love with the horse, and asked if he had any objections to my trying to secure him. he replied that he had not. a few days later, after making the indian several presents, i persuaded him to trade horses with me. in this way i became possessed of the buckskin, although he still remained government property. i named him buckskin joe, and he proved to be a second brigham. i rode him during the summers of '69, '70, '71, and '72. he was the horse ridden by the grand duke alexis on his buffalo hunt. in the winter of '72, after i had left fort mcpherson, buckskin joe was condemned and sold at public sale to dave perry at north platte. in 1877 he presented him to me. he remained on my ranch on the dismal river for many years, stone blind, until he died. at the end of twenty days, after a few unimportant running fights, we found ourselves back to the republican river. hitherto the pawnee scouts had not taken much interest in me. but while at the camp i gained their respect and admiration by showing them how to kill buffaloes. though they were excellent buffalo killers, for indians, i had never seen them kill more than four or five animals in one run. a number of them would surround a herd and dash in on it, each one killing from one to four buffaloes. i had gone out in company with major north, and watched them make a "surround." twenty pawnees, circling a herd, killed thirty-two buffaloes. as they were cutting up the animals, another herd appeared. the pawnees were getting ready to surround it, when i asked major north to keep them back to let me show them what i could do. he did as i requested. i knew buckskin joe was a good buffalo horse, and, feeling confident that i would astonish the indians, i galloped in among the herd. i did astonish them. in less than a half-mile run i dropped thirty-six, killing a buffalo at nearly every shot. the dead animals were strung out over the prairie less than fifty feet apart. this manner of killing greatly pleased the indians. they called me "big chief," and thereafter i had a high place in their esteem. we soon left the camp and took a westward course up the republican river. major north, with two companies of his pawnees, and colonel royal, with two or three companies of cavalry, made a scout north of the river. after making camp on the blacktail deer fork we observed a band of indians coming over the prairie at full gallop, singing and yelling and waving their lances and long poles. we first supposed them to be the hostile sioux, and for a few moments all was excitement. but the pawnees, to our surprise, made no effort to go out to attack them. presently they began singing themselves. major north walked over to general carr and said: "general, those are our men. they had had a fight. that is the way they act when they come back from battle with captured scalps." the pawnees came into camp on the run. we soon learned that they had run across a party of sioux who were following a big indian trail. the sioux had evidently been in a fight. two or three had been wounded, and were being carried by the others. the pawnees "jumped" them, and killed three or four of their number. next morning our command came up to the indian trail where the sioux had been found. we followed it for several days. from the number of campfires we passed we could see that we were gaining on the sioux. wherever they had camped we found the print of a woman's shoe. this made us all the more eager to overtake them, for it was plain that they had a white woman as their captive. all the best horses were selected by the general, and orders were given for a forced march. the wagon-train was to follow as rapidly as possible, while the command pushed on ahead. i was ordered to pick out five or six of the best pawnees and proceed in advance of the command, keeping ten or twelve miles ahead, so that when the indians were overtaken we could learn the location of their camp, and give the troops the required information in time to plan an effective attack. when we were ten miles in advance of the regiment we began to move cautiously. we looked carefully over the summits of the hills before exposing ourselves to observation from the front. at last we made out the village, encamped in the sandhills south of the south platte river at summit springs. here i left the pawnees to watch, while i rode back to the command and informed general carr that the indians were in sight. the men were immediately ordered to tighten their saddles and otherwise to prepare for action. i changed my horse for old buckskin joe. he had been led for me up to this time, and was comparatively fresh. acting on my suggestion, general carr made a circuit to the north. i knew that if the indians had scouts out they would naturally watch in the direction whence they had come. when we had passed the camp, and were between it and the river, we turned and started back. by this maneuver we avoided detection by the sioux scouts. the general kept the command wholly out of sight until within a mile of the village. then the advance guard was halted till all the soldiers caught up. orders were issued that at the sound of the charge the whole command was to rush into the village. as we halted on the summit of the hill overlooking the still unsuspecting sioux, general carr called to his bugler: "sound the charge!" the bugler, in his excitement, forgot the notes of the call. again the general ordered "sound the charge!" and again the musician was unable to obey the command. quartermaster hays, who had obtained permission to join the command, comprehended the plight of the bugler. rushing up to him, he seized the bugle, and sounded the call himself, in clear, distinct tones. as the troops rushed forward he threw the bugle away, and, drawing his pistol, was among the first to enter the village. the indians had just driven up their horses and were preparing to move camp when they saw the soldiers. many of them jumped on their ponies, and, leaving everything behind them, advanced to meet the attack. on second thought, however, they decided it would be useless to resist. those who were mounted rode away, while those on foot fled for the neighboring hills. we charged through their village, shooting right and left at everything we saw. pawnees, officers, and regular soldiers were all mixed together, while the sioux went flying away in every direction. the general had instructed the soldiers to keep a sharp look-out for white women when they entered the village. two were soon found. one of them was wounded, and the other had just been killed. both were swedes, and the survivor could not speak english. a swedish soldier was soon found to act as interpreter. the woman's name was weichel. she said that as soon as the indians saw the troops coming, a squaw, the wife of tall bull, had killed mrs. alerdice, her companion in captivity, with a hatchet. the infuriated squaw had attacked mrs. weichel, wounding her. the purpose of the squaw was apparently to prevent both women from telling the soldiers how cruelly they had been treated. the attack lasted but a little while. the indians were driven several miles away. the soldiers gathered in the herd of indian horses, which was running wild over the prairie, and drove the animals back into camp. after a survey of our work we found we had killed about one hundred and forty indians and captured one hundred and twenty squaws and papooses, two hundred lodges, and eight hundred horses and mules. general carr ordered that all the tepees, lodges, buffalo robes, camp equipage, and provisions, including a large quantity of buffalo meat, should be gathered and burned. mrs. alerdice, the murdered swedish captive, was buried. captain kane read the burial service, as we had no chaplain with us. while this was going on, the sioux warriors recovered from their panic and came back to give us battle. all around the attack a fight began. i was on the skirmish line, and noticed an indian who was riding a large bay horse, and giving orders to his men in his own language. i could understand part of what he said. he was telling them that they had lost everything and were ruined, and was entreating them to follow him until they died. the horse this chief was riding was extremely fleet. i determined to capture him if possible, but i was afraid to fire at the rider lest i kill the horse. often the indian, as he rode around the skirmish line, passed the head of a ravine. it occurred to me that if i dismounted and crept up the ravine, i could, as he passed, easily drop him from the saddle with no fear of hitting the horse. accordingly i crept into the ravine and secreted myself there to wait till mr. chief came riding by. when he was not more than thirty yards away i fired. the next instant he tumbled from the saddle, and the horse kept on his way without a rider. instead of running back to the indians, he galloped toward the soldiers, by one of whom he was caught. lieutenant mason, who had been very conspicuous in the fight and had killed two or three indians himself, came galloping up the ravine, and, jumping from his horse, secured the elaborate war-bonnet from the head of the dead chief, together with all his other accoutrements. we both rejoined the soldiers. i started in search of the horse, and found him in the possession of sergeant mcgrath, who had captured him. mcgrath knew that i had been trying to get the horse, and he had seen me kill its rider. he handed the animal over to me at once. i little thought at the time that i had captured the fastest running horse west of the missouri river, but this later proved to be the fact. late that evening our wagon-train arrived. mrs. weichel, the wounded woman, had been carefully attended by the surgeons, and we placed her in the ambulance. gathering up the prisoners, squaws, and papooses, we set out for the south platte river, eight miles distant, where we went into camp. next morning, by order of general carr, all the money found in the village was turned over to the adjutant. above two thousand dollars was collected, and the entire amount was given to mrs. weichel. the command now proceeded to fort sedgwick, from which point the particulars of our fight, which took place sunday, july 11, 1869, was telegraphed to all parts of the country. during our two weeks' stay at this post, general augur, of the department of the platte, made us a visit, and complimented the command highly on the gallant service it had performed. tall bull and his indians had long been a terror to the border settlements. for their crushing defeat, and the killing of the chief, general carr and the command were complimented in general orders. mrs. weichel was cared for in the post hospital. after her recovery she married the hospital steward. her former husband had been killed by the indians. our prisoners were sent to the whetstone agency, on the missouri, where spotted tail and the friendly sioux were then living. the captured horses and mules were distributed among the officers and soldiers. among the animals which i thus obtained were my tall bull horse and a pony which i called powder face. this animal figured afterward in the stories of "ned buntline," and became famous. one day, while we were waiting at fort mcpherson, general carr received a telegram announcing that the indians had made a dash on the union pacific, killing several section men and running off stock of o'fallen's station. an expedition was going out of fort mcpherson to catch and punish the redskins if possible. i was ordered by general carr to accompany this expedition. that night i proceeded by rail to fort mcpherson station, and from there rode horseback to the fort. two companies, under command of major brown, had been ordered out. next morning, as we were about to start, major brown said to me: "by the way, cody, we're going to have a character with us on this scout. it's old 'ned buntline,' the novelist." at the same time i saw a stoutly built man near by who wore a blue military coat. on his breast were pinned perhaps twenty badges of secret societies and gold medals. he limped a little as he approached me, and i concluded that this must be the novelist. "he has a good mark to shoot at on his left breast," i said to brown, "but he looks like a soldier." i was introduced to him by his real name, which was colonel e.z.c. judson. "i was to deliver a temperance lecture tonight," said my new acquaintance, "but no lecture for me when there is a prospect of a fight. the major has offered me a horse, but i don't know how i shall stand the ride." i assured him that he would soon feel at home in the saddle, and we set out. the command headed for the north platte, which had been swollen by mountain rains. in crossing we had to swim our horses. buntline was the first man across. we reached o'fallen's station at eleven o'clock. in a short time i succeeded in finding an indian trail. the party of indians, which had come up from the south, seemed to be a small one. we followed the track of the indians, to the north platte, but they had a start of two days. major brown soon abandoned the pursuit, and returned to fort sedgwick. during this short scout, buntline had plied me with questions. he was anxious to go out on the next scout with me. by this time i had learned that my horse, tall bull, was a remarkably fast runner. therefore, when lieutenant mason, who owned a racer, challenged me to a race, i immediately accepted. we were to run our horses a single dash of a half mile for five hundred dollars a side. several of the officers, as well as rube wood, the post-trader, offered to make side bets with me. i took them up until i had my last cent on tall bull. i saw from the start that it would be easy to beat the lieutenant's horse, and kept tall bull in check, so that no one might know how fast he really was. i won easily, and pocketed a snug sum. everybody was now talking horse race. major brown said that if tall bull could beat the pawnees' fast horse, i could break his whole command. the next day all the troops were paid off, including the pawnees. for two or three days our indian allies did nothing but run horses, as all the lately captured animals had to be tested to determine which was the swiftest. finally the pawnees offered to run their favorite against tall bull. they raised three hundred dollars to bet on their horse, and i covered the money. in addition i took numerous side bets. the race was a single dash of a mile. tall bull won without any trouble, and i was ahead on this race about seven hundred dollars. i also got up a race for my pony, powder face, against a fast pony belonging to major lute north, of the pawnee scouts. i selected a small boy living at the post for a jockey, major north rode his own pony. the pawnees, as usual, wanted to bet on their pony, but as i had not yet ascertained the running qualities of powder face i did not care to risk much on him. had i known him as well as i did afterward i would have backed him with every cent i had. he proved to be one of the swiftest ponies i ever saw, and had evidently been kept as a racer. the dash between the ponies was to be four hundred yards. when i led powder face over the course he seemed to understand what he was there for. north was on his pony; my boy was up. i had all i could do to hold the fiery little fellow back. he was so lively on his feet that i feared his young rider might not be able to stick on his back. at last the order to start was given by the judges. i brought powder face up to the score, and the word "go!" was given. so swiftly did he jump away that he left his rider sitting on the ground. nevertheless he went through and won the race without a rider. it was an easy victory, and after that i could get no more races. general carr having obtained a leave of absence, colonel royal was given command of an expedition that was ordered to go out after the indians. in a few days we set out for the republican, where, we had learned, there were plenty of indians. at frenchman's fork we discovered a village, but did not surprise it, for the indians had seen us approaching and were in retreat as we reached their camping-place. we chased them down-stream and through the sandhills, but they made better time than we did, and the pursuit was abandoned. while we were in the sandhills, scouting the niobrara country, the pawnee indians brought into camp some very large bones, one of which the surgeon of the expedition pronounced to be the thigh bone of a human being. the indians said the bones were those of a race of people who long ago had lived in that country. they said these people were three times the size of a man of the present day, that they were so swift and strong that they could run by the side of a buffalo, and, taking the animal in one arm, could tear off a leg and eat it as they ran. these giants, said the indians, denied the existence of a great spirit. when they heard the thunder or saw the lightning, they laughed and declared that they were greater than either. this so displeased the great spirit that he caused a deluge. the water rose higher and higher till it drove these proud giants from the low grounds to the hills and thence to the mountains. at last even the mountaintops were submerged and the mammoth men were drowned. after the flood subsided, the great spirit came to the conclusion that he had made men too large and powerful. he therefore corrected his mistake by creating a race of the size and strength of the men of the present day. this is the reason, the indians told us, that the man of modern times is small and not like the giants of old. the story has been handed down among the pawnees for generations, but what is its origin no man can say. chapter vii one morning, in the spring of 1870, a band of horse-stealing indians raided four ranches near the mouth of fremont creek, on the north platte. after scooping up horses from these ranches they proceeded to the fort mcpherson herd, which was grazing above the post, and took about forty government animals. among these was my favorite little pony, powder face. when the alarm was given, "boots and saddles" was sounded. i always kept one of my best horses by me, and was ready for any surprise. the horse that i saddled that day was buckskin joe. as i galloped for the herd, i saw the indians kill two of the herders. then, circling all the horses toward the west, they disappeared over a range of hills. i hurried back to the camp and told the general that i knew where to pick up the trail. company i, commanded by a little red-headed chap--lieutenant earl d. thomas--was the first to report, mounted, at the adjutant's office. thomas had but lately graduated from west point. his sole instructions were: "follow cody and be off quick." as he rode away general emory called after him: "i will support you with more troops as fast as they are saddled." the lieutenant followed me on the run to the spot where i saw the indians disappear. though the redskins had an hour and a half start on us, we followed them, on a gallop, till we could see that they had begun to drive their horses in a circle, and then in one direction after another, making the trail uncertain. it was getting dark, but i succeeded in keeping on some of the tracks. all that night the indians endeavored, by scattering their horses, to throw us off the trail. at three o'clock in the morning i made up my mind that they were traveling for the headwaters of medicine creek, and headed straight in that direction. we found that they had reached the creek, but remained there only long enough to water their horses. then they struck off to the southwest. i informed lieutenant thomas that the next water was at the springs at the head of red willow creek, thirty-five miles away. the indians, i said, would stop there. thomas's men had not had time to bring so much as their coats with them. at the alarm they grabbed their sidearms and carbines and ammunition belts, and leaped into their saddles. none of us had had anything to eat since dinner the day before. in the whole outfit there was not a canteen in which to carry water. i notified thomas that he must decide whether the troop was to undergo the terrible hardship of riding a whole day without food or water, on the chance of overtaking the indians and getting their rations and supplies away from them. he replied that the only instructions he had received from general emory were to follow me. i said that if it were left to me, i would follow the indians. "you have heard cody," said thomas to his men. "now, i would like to hear what you men think about it." through their first sergeant they said they had followed cody on many a long trail, and were willing to follow him to the end of this one. so the order to mount was given, and the trail was taken up. several times that day we found the indians had resorted to their old tactics of going in different directions. they split the herd of horses in bunches, and scattered them. it was very hard to trail them at good speed. forty hours without food, and twelve hours without water, we halted for a council when darkness set in. i told thomas that when we got within three miles of the springs the men could rest their horses and get a little sleep, while i pushed on ahead to look for the indians. this was done. when we reached the spot i had designated the saddles were removed, so that the horses could graze and roll. i rode on ahead. as i had suspected i should, i found the indians encamped at the springs with the stock grazing around them. as quickly as possible i got back to the command with my news. the horses were quietly saddled and we proceeded, seldom speaking or making any noise. as we rode along i gave the lieutenant and first sergeant the description of the camp and suggested that it could be best approached just at daylight. we had but forty-one men. ten of these, i said, should be detailed to take charge of the herd, while the lieutenant and i charged the camp. the indians were encamped on a little knoll, around which was miry ground, making a cavalry charge difficult. the indians numbered as many as we did. the safest plan was to dismount some of the men, leaving others to hold the horses, and proceed to the attack on foot. the rest of the men were to remain with their horses, and get through, the marshy ground mounted, if they could. a halt was called, and this was explained to the men. it didn't take them long to understand. we approached very cautiously till we got within a quarter of a mile of the indians. then the charge was sounded. we did not find the land as miry as we had supposed. dashing in among the indians, we completely surprised them. most of them grabbed the guns, with which they always slept, and fled to the marsh below the camp. others ran for their horses. it was fortunate that we had dismounted ten men. these were able to follow the indians who had escaped to marsh. when we made the charge my chief thought was to keep a lookout for my pony, powder pace. soon i saw an indian, mounted on him, making his escape. i rushed through the camp, shooting to the left and right, but keeping a beeline after powder face and his rider. soon another indian who was afoot leaped up behind powder face's rider. i knew that the little animal was very swift for a short distance, but that he would be badly handicapped by the weight of two men. i realized that my old buckskin joe was tired but his staying qualities were such that i was sure he would overtake powder face, carrying double weight. though i was not a hundred yards behind the object of my pursuit when the second indian mounted i was afraid to shoot. it was not yet quite daylight. i feared to fire lest i hit my beloved pony. for two miles i followed through the sandhills before i dared to use my rifle. the indian riding at the rear had a revolver with which he kept banging away, but i paid little attention to him. i knew a man shooting behind with a pistol was likely to hit nothing but air. at last i took a steady aim while old joe was running smoothly. the bullet not only hit the rear man, but passed through him and killed the man in front. they both fell. i took another shot to make sure they were not playing 'possum. as they fell, powder face stopped and looked around, to learn what it was all about. i called to him, and he came up to me. both indians were wearing beautiful war-bonnets, of which i took possession, as well as of their fancy trappings. then, taking powder face by the rope, i led him back to the springs to see how the lieutenant had made out. the herd of horses was held and surrounded by a few soldiers. the rest were still popping at the indians. but most of the redskins were either hidden among the marshes, or had got clear away to the surrounding hills. i found the lieutenant, and told him i thought we had accomplished all that was possible. the orderly sounded the recall. i have never seen a muddier set of boys than those who came out of the marsh and began rummaging around the indian camp. we soon discovered two or three hundred pounds of dried meat--buffalo, deer, and antelope, also a little coffee and sugar and an old kettle and tin cups which the indians had used. all the men by this time had all the water they wanted. each was chewing a piece of dried meat. pickets were posted to prevent a surprise. soon coffee was ready. in a short time everybody was filled up, and i told thomas we had better be getting out of there. many of the men began saddling the stolen horses, so as to rest their own. the lieutenant was eager to remain and rest until the reã«nforcements that general emory had promised should arrive. "your orders were to follow me, weren't they?" i asked. "yes." "well, then, keep on following me, and you'll soon see the reason for getting out of here." "all right," he agreed. "i've heard the general say that in a tight place your directions should always be followed." with most of the men driving the captured horses we started for fort mcpherson. i didn't take the trail that we had followed in. i knew of a shorter route, and besides, i didn't want to meet the support that was coming. i knew the officer in command, and was sure that if he came up he would take all the glory of the capture away from lieutenant thomas. naturally i wanted all the credit for thomas and myself as we were entitled to. the soldiers that had been sent out after us found and destroyed the village, but we did not meet them. they discovered seven or eight dead indians, and there were a few more down in the marsh which they overlooked. the major in command sent out scouts to find our trail. texas jack, who was on this duty, returned and reported that he had found it, and that we were going back to the fort by another route. the major said: "that's another of those tricks of cody's. he will guide thomas back and he will get all the glory before i can overtake him." we rode into fort mcpherson about six o'clock that evening. i told thomas to make his report immediately, which he did. general emory complimented him highly, and thomas generously said that all he did was to obey orders and follow cody. a report was made to general sheridan, and the next day that officer wired thomas his congratulations. the next day the command that was sent out after us returned to the fort. the major was hotter than a wounded coyote. he told the general that it was all my fault, and that he did not propose to be treated in any such manner by any scout, even if it were general sheridan's pet, buffalo bill. he was told by the general that the less he said about the matter the better it would be for him. this was lieutenant thomas's first raid, and he was highly elated with its success. he hoped he would be mentioned for it in special orders, and sure enough, when the special orders came along both he and myself, together with the little command, received complimentary mention. this thomas richly deserved, for he was a brave, energetic, and dashing officer. i gave him the two war-bonnets i had taken from the indians i shot from the back of powder face, asking that he present them to the daughters of general augur, who were then visiting the post. shortly after our return another expedition was organized, with the republican river country as its destination. it was commanded by general duncan, a blusterer, but a jolly old fellow. the officers who knew him well said we would have a fine time, as he was very fond of hunting. he was a good fighter. it was rumored that an indian's bullet could never hurt him. a cannon-ball, according to report, had hit him in the head without injuring him at all, while another cannon-ball, glancing off his skull, had instantly killed one of the toughest mules in the army! the pawnee scouts, who had been mustered out of service during the winter of 1869 and '70, were reorganized to accompany this expedition. i was glad of this. i had become very much attached to major north, one of the officers, and to many of the indians. beside myself the only white scout we had in the post at this time was john y. nelson, whose indian name was cha-sha-cha-opeyse, or red-willow-fill-the-pipe. the man was a character. he had a squaw wife and a half-breed family. he was a good fellow, but had few equals and no superiors as a liar. with the regimental band playing "the girl i left behind me" we started out from the post. a short march brought us to the head of fox creek, where we camped. next morning general duncan sent me word that i was to bring my rifle and shoot at a mark with him. i did not feel like shooting at anything except myself, for the night before i had been interviewing the sutler's store, in company with major brown. when i looked for my gun, i found that i had left it behind me. i got cold consolation from major brown when i informed him of my loss. then i told him that the general had sent for me to shoot a match with him, and that if the old man discovered my predicament there would be trouble. "well, cody," said the major, "the best thing you can do is to make some excuse, and then go and borrow a gun from one of the men. tell the general you loaned your rifle to someone for a hunt. while you are gone i will send back to the post for it." i got a gun from john nelson, and marched to the general's headquarters, where i shot the match. it resulted in his favor. general duncan, who had never before commanded the pawnee scouts, confused them by posting the guards in a manner that was new to them. furthermore, he insisted that the guards should call the hours through the night: "nine o'clock and all is well," etc., giving the numbers of their posts. few of the scouts understood english. they were greatly troubled. major north explained to them that when the man on the post nearest them called the hour, they must repeat the call as closely as they could. it was highly amusing to hear them do this. they would try to remember what the man on the next post had said. for example, when a white soldier called out "post number one, half-past nine and all is well!" the indians would cry out "poss number half-pass five cents go to h--l i don't care." so ridiculous were their efforts to repeat the calls, that the general finally gave it up and countermanded the order. one day, after an uneventful march, major north and i went out on prairie dog creek in advance of the command to kill some buffaloes. night was approaching, and we looked about for a suitable camping-place for the soldiers. major north dismounted and was resting, while i rode down to the creek to see if there was plenty of grass in the vicinity. i found an excellent camping spot, and told north i would ride over the hill a little way, so that the advance guard might see me. this i did, and when the advance guard came in sight i dismounted and lay down upon the grass to rest. suddenly i heard three or four shots. in a moment major north came dashing toward me, pursued by eight or ten indians. i at once sprang to the saddle and sent several shots toward the indians, fifty or more of whom were now in sight. then, we turned our horses and ran. the bullets sang after us. my whip was shot from my hand, and the daylight was let through the crown of my hat. we were in close quarters, when lieutenant valknar, with several men, came galloping to our relief. the indians, discovering them, whirled and fled. as soon as major north sighted his pawnees he began riding in a circle, which was the signal to them that there were hostile indians in front. in an instant they broke ranks pell-mell, with the major at their head, and went after the flying warriors. the second day that we had been following the indians we came upon an old squaw who had been left on the prairie to die. her people had built for her a little shade or lodge, and had given her some provisions--enough to last her trip to the happy hunting-grounds. this is often done by the indians when an enemy is in pursuit and one of their number becomes too feeble to keep pace with the flight. our scout, john nelson, recognized the squaw as a relative of his indian wife. from her we learned that the redskins we were pursuing were known as the pawnee killer band. they had lately killed buck's surveying party, consisting of eight or nine men. this massacre had occurred a few days before on beaver creek. we had found a number of surveying instruments in the abandoned camp, and knew therefore that the indians had had a fight with white men. after driving the indians across the platte we returned to fort mcpherson, bringing with us the old squaw, who was sent to the spotted tail agency. during my absence my wife had given birth to a son. though he was several weeks old when i returned no name had been given him. i called him elmo judson, in honor of colonel judson, whose pen name was "ned buntline." but the officers insisted upon calling him kit carson cody and it was finally settled that this should be his name. shortly after my return i received orders instructing me to accompany professor marsh on a fossil-hunting expedition into the rough lands of the big horn basin. the party was to consist of a number of scientists besides professor marsh, together with twenty-five students from yale, which institution was sending out the expedition. i was to get together thirty-five saddle-horses for the party. the quartermaster arranged for the transportation, pack mules, etc. but general sheridan, under whose direction the scientists were proceeding, always believed in my ability to select good horses from a quartermaster's herd. in a few days professor marsh and his companions arrived. the pawnee scouts, then in camp, had a year before unearthed some immense fossil bones, so it was decided that major north, with a few of these scouts, should also accompany the expedition. professor marsh had heard of this discovery, and was eager to find some of the same kind of fossils. professor marsh believed that the basin would be among the last of the western lands to be settled. the mountain wall which surrounded it would turn aside pioneers going to montana or northern oregon. these would head to the east of big horn mountains, while those bound for utah, idaho, and california would go to the south side of the wind river mountains. he was confident, however, that some day the basin would be settled and developed, and that in its fertile valleys would be found the most prosperous people in the world. it was there that my interest in the great possibilities of the west was aroused. i never forgot what i heard around the campfire. in 1894 the carey irrigation act was passed by congress. a million acres of land was given to each of the arid states. i was the first man to receive a concession of two hundred thousand acres from the wyoming state land board. i could not get away to the basin till late in the autumn of 1894, so i formed a partnership with george t. beck, who proceeded to wyoming, where he was found by professor elwood mead, then in the service of the state. there a site was located and the line of an irrigation canal was surveyed. a town was laid out along the canal, and my friends insisted upon naming it cody. at this time there was no railroad in the big horn basin; but shortly afterward the burlington sent a spur out from its main line, with cody as its terminus. in 1896 i went out on a scout to locate the route of a wagon road from cody into the yellowstone park. this was during mr. mckinley's first administration. i went to washington, saw the president, and explained to him the possibilities of a road of eighty miles, the only one entering the national park from the east. it would be, i told him, the most wonderful scenic road in the west. mr. roosevelt ordered the building of this road, which has now become the favorite automobile route into the park. today the big horn basin is one of the richest of american oil lands, and the pennsylvania of the west for coal production. every one of the prophecies that professor marsh made to us around that campfire has come true. in december, 1870, i was sent as a witness to fort d.a. russell, near the city of cheyenne, where a court-martial was to be held. before leaving home my wife had given me a list of articles she needed for the furnishing of our house. these i promised to purchase in cheyenne. on arriving at fort russell i found many officers, also witnesses at the court-martial, and put in most of my time with them. a postponement of a week gave us an opportunity to "do" cheyenne. that town furnished abundant opportunities for entertainment, as there was every kind of game in operation, from roulette to horse-racing. i sent for my horse, tall bull, and a big race was arranged between him and a cheyenne favorite called green's colt. but before tall bull could arrive the court-martial was over and the race was off. i sold the animal to lieutenant mason. i met many old friends in cheyenne, among them r.s. van tassell, tim dier, major talbot, luke morrin, posey wilson, and many others. they constituted a pretty wild bunch, and kept me so busy that i had no time to think about mrs. cody's furniture. on my return, when she asked us for it, i told her i couldn't bring it with me on the train, and that moreover there were no stores in cheyenne where i could get furniture that would be good enough for her, so i had sent to dewey & stone at omaha for what she needed. i lost no time in getting over to the club, where i wrote to dewey & stone for all the articles my wife required. in a week the furniture arrived at fort mcpherson station. i got a couple of six-mule teams and went after it quick. when it arrived at the house and was unpacked mrs. cody was greatly delighted. about this time general emory was very much annoyed by petty offenses in the vicinity of the post by civilians over whom he had no jurisdiction. there was no justice of the peace near the post, and he wanted some kind of an officer with authority to attend to these troublesome persons. one day he told me that i would make an excellent justice. "you compliment me too highly, general," i replied. "i don't know any more about law than a government mule knows about bookkeeping." "that doesn't make any difference," he said. "i know you will make a good squire. you accompany mr. woodin and mr. snell to north platte in my private ambulance. they will go on your bond, and you will be appointed a justice of the peace." a number of officers from the post went to north platte for this occasion. after i was duly sworn in, there was a celebration. i arrived home at three o'clock in the morning, mrs. cody still being in ignorance of my newly acquired honor. i was awakened by hearing her arguing with a man at the door who was asking for the squire. she was assuring him that no squire was on the premises. "doesn't buffalo bill live here?" asked the man. "yes," admitted mrs. cody, "but what has that got to do with it?" by this time i had dressed, and i went to the door. i informed my wife, to her amazement, that i was really a squire, and turned to the visitor to learn his business. he was a poor man, he said, on his way to colorado. the night before a large bunch of horses was being driven past his camp, and one of his two animals was driven off with the herd. mounting the other, he followed and demanded the horse, but the boss of the herd refused to give it up. he wanted a writ of replevin. i asked mrs. cody if she could write a writ of replevin and she said she had never heard of such a thing. i hadn't either. i asked the man in, and mrs. cody got breakfast for us. he refused the drink i set out for him. i felt that i needed a good deal of bracing in this writ of replevin business, so i drank his as well as mine. then i buckled on my revolver, took down my old lucretia rifle, and, patting her gently, said: "you will have to be constable for me today." to my wife and children, who were anxiously watching these proceedings, i said: "don't be alarmed. i am a judge now, and i am going into action. come on, my friend," i said to the stranger, "get on your horse." "why," he protested, "you have no papers to serve on the man, and you have no constable." "don't worry," i said. "i'll soon show you that i am the whole court." i mounted joe, and we galloped along about ten miles when we overtook the herd of horses. i found the boss, riding a big gray horse ahead of the herd. i ordered him to round up the herd. "by what authority!" he demanded. "are you a constable?" i said i was not only a constable, but the whole court, and one of his men at the same time whispered to him: "be careful, that is buffalo bill!" at this time, as well as for years past, i had been chief united states detective for the army as well as scout and guide. i felt that with the offices of justice and constable added to these titles i had all the power necessary to take one horse. the herd boss evidently thought so, too. after asking if my name were cody, and being told that it was, he said: "well, there is no need of having a fuss over one horse." "no," said i, "a horse doesn't mean much to you, but it amounts to a good deal to this poor immigrant." "well," said the herd boss, "how do you propose to settle it?" "i am going to take you and your whole outfit to fort mcpherson. there i am going to try you and give you the limit--six months and a five-hundred-dollar fine." "i can't afford to go back to the fort," he pleaded, "let's settle it right here. what will you take to call it off?" "one hundred and fifty dollars," i said, "and quick!" reaching down into his pocket, he pulled out a wallet filled with bills and counted out a hundred and fifty dollars. by this time the man who had lost the horse had caught his animal in the herd. he was standing, holding it, near by. "partner," i said to him, "take your horse and go back home." "now, boss," i said to the other man, "let me give you a little advice. be careful when a stranger gets into your herd and the owner overtakes you and demands it. you may run into more trouble than i have given you, for you ought to know by this time that horse-stealing is a hanging offense." he said: "i didn't care a blank about your being justice of the peace and constable combined, but when i found out you were buffalo bill it was time to lay down my hand." "all right, old fellow," i said, "good-by." as he rode off he called: "it was worth a hundred and fifty dollars just to get a good look at you," and the other men agreed. by the time i got back to the fort, guard-mount was over, and a number of officers were in the club. when they learned how i had disposed of my first case, they told the general, who was very much pleased. "i want it noised about among the outside civilians how you handle your court," he said. the story soon became known all over the surrounding country. even the ladies of the post heard of it, and told my wife and sisters, to whom i had never mentioned it. they looked upon it as a great joke. chapter viii early in the month of september, 1874, word was received at fort mcpherson that general sheridan and a party of friends were coming to the post to have a grand hunt in the vicinity. they further proposed to explore the country from fort mcpherson to fort hays in kansas. they arrived in a special car at north platte, eighteen miles distant, on the morning of september 22. in the party besides general sheridan were james gordon bennett, of _the new york herald_, leonard lawrence jerome, carroll livingston, major j.g. heckscher, general fitzhugh, general h.e. davies, captain m. edward rogers, colonel j. schuyler crosby, samuel johnson, general anson stager, of the western union, charles wilson, editor of _the chicago journal_, quartermaster-general rucker, and dr. asch, of general sheridan's staff. they were met at the station by general emory and major brown, with a cavalry company as escort and a sufficient number of vehicles to carry the distinguished visitors and their baggage. at the fort they found the garrison, under the command of general carr, on parade awaiting their arrival. a train of sixteen wagons was provided to carry the baggage supplies and forage for the hunting trip. besides these there were three or four horse-ambulances in which the guns were carried, and in which members of the party might ride when they became weary of the saddle. i accompanied the expedition at the request of general sheridan. he introduced me to everybody and gave me a good send-off. as it was a high-toned outfit i was to accompany, i determined to put on a little style myself. i dressed in a new suit of light buckskin, trimmed along the seams with fringe of the same material. i put on a crimson shirt, elaborately decorated on the bosom, and selected a big sombrero for my head. then, mounting a showy horse which was a gallant stepper, i rode down to the fort, rifle in hand. the expedition was soon under way. first in line rode general sheridan, followed by his guests; then the orderlies. then came the ambulances, in one of which were carried five greyhounds, brought along to course antelopes and rabbits. with the ambulance marched a pair of indian ponies belonging to lieutenant hayes, captured during an indian fight. these were harnessed to a light wagon, which general sheridan occasionally used. these little animals, thirteen hands high, showed more vigor and endurance than any we brought with us. during our first night in camp the members of the party asked me hundreds of questions about buffaloes and buffalo hunting. the entire evening was spent in talk about buffaloes, together with stories of the plains, the chase, and the war, which was then fresh in the minds of all of us. we closed the evening by christening the camp, camp brown, in honor of the gallant officer who was in command of the escort. we breakfasted at four the next morning and at six we were in the saddle. everyone was eager to see the buffaloes which i had promised would be met with during the day. after a march of five miles the advance guard which i commanded sighted six of these animals grazing about two miles away. acting upon my suggestion, lawrence jerome, livingston, heckscher, fitzhugh, rogers, and crosby, with myself as guide, rode through a convenient caã±on to a point beyond the herd, and to windward of them; the rest of the party made a detour of nearly five miles, keeping behind the crest of a hill. we charged down on the buffaloes at full gallop, and just then the other party emerged from their concealment and witnessed the exciting chase. the buffaloes started away in a line, single file; fitzhugh, after a lively gallop, led us all. soon he came alongside the rear buffalo, at which he fired. the animal faltered, and with another shot fitzhugh brought him to the ground. crosby dashed past and leveled another of the herd, while livingston dropped a third. those who were not directly engaged in the hunt now came up and congratulated the buffalo killers. fitzhugh was hailed as the winner of the buffalo cup. there was general sympathy for heckscher, whose horse had fallen and rolled over him, thus putting him out of the race. the hunt being over, the column moved forward through a prairie-dog town, several miles in extent. these animals are found throughout the plains, living together in a sort of society. their numberless burrows in their towns join each other and the greatest care is necessary in riding among them, since the ground is so undermined as easily to give way under the weight of a horse. around the entrance to each burrow earth is piled to the height of at least a foot. on these little elevations the prairie-dogs sit on their haunches, chattering to each other and observing whatever passes on the plains. they will permit a person to approach very closely, but when they have viewed him they dive into their holes with wonderful celerity. they are difficult to kill. if hit they usually succeed in getting underground before they can be recovered. rattlesnakes and little owls are found in great numbers in the prairie-dog towns, living in the same burrows. we killed and cooked a few of the prairie-dogs, and found them very palatable. a short distance beyond the prairie-dog town we found a settlement of five white men. they proved to be the two clifford brothers, arthur ruff, dick seymour, and john nelson. to the last i have already referred. each of these men had a squaw for a wife and numerous half-breed children. they lived in tents of buffalo skins. they owned a herd of horses and a few cattle, and had cultivated a small piece of land. their principal occupation was hunting, and they had numbers of buffalo hides, which they had tanned in the indian fashion. upon reaching pleasant valley on medicine creek the party divided into two detachments, one hunting along the bank of the creek for elk and deer, the other remaining with the main body of the escort. the elk hunters met with no success whatever, but the others found plenty of buffaloes and nearly everybody killed one before the day was done. lawrence jerome made an excellent shot. he was riding in an ambulance, and killed a buffalo that attempted to cross the line of march. upon crossing the republican river on the morning of the twenty-sixth we came upon an immense number of buffaloes scattered over the country in every direction. all had an opportunity to hunt. the wagons and troops moved slowly along toward the next camp while the hunters rode off in twos and threes. each hunter was rewarded with abundant success. lawrence jerome met with the only mishap. he was riding buckskin joe, which i had lent him, and, dismounting to get a steady shot, thoughtlessly let go of the bridle. the horse decided to do a little hunting on his own account. when last seen that day he was ahead of the buffaloes, and gaining, while his late rider was left to his own reflections. three days later joe, saddled and bridled, turned up at fort mcpherson. we pitched our camp for the night in a charming spot on the bank of beaver creek. the game was so abundant that we remained there the next day. this stopping-place was called camp cody, in honor of the reader's humble servant. the next day was spent in hunting jack-rabbits, coyotes, elk, antelope, and wild turkeys. that we had a splendid dinner may be seen from the following bill of fare soup buffalo tail fish broiled cisco; fried dace entrã©es salmi of prairie dog; stewed rabbit; filet of buffalo aux champignons vegetables sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green peas dessert tapioca pudding wines champagne frappã©, champagne au naturel, claret, whisky, brandy, ale coffee i considered this a fairly good meal for a hunting party. everybody did justice to it. the excursionists reached fort hays on the morning of october second. there we pitched our tents for the last time. that same afternoon general sheridan and his guests took the train for the east. they expressed themselves as highly pleased with the hunt, as well as with the way they had been guided and escorted. general davies afterward wrote the story of this hunt in a volume of sixty-eight pages, called "ten days on the plains." in this chapter i have taken the liberty of condensing frequently from this volume, and in some cases have used the general's exact language. i ought to insert several lines of quotations marks, to be pretty generally distributed through the foregoing account. after the departure of general sheridan's party we returned to fort mcpherson, and found general carr about to start on a twenty days' scout. his object was more to take some friends on a hunt than to look for indians. his guests were a couple of englishmen and mr. mccarthy of new york, the latter a relative of general emory. the command consisted of three companies of the fifth cavalry, one company of pawnee scouts, and twenty-five wagons. of course i was called to accompany the expedition. one day, after we had been out for some little time, i arranged with major north to play a joke on mr. mccarthy. i took him out on a hunt about eight miles from the camp, informing major north about what time we should reach there. he had agreed that he would appear in the vicinity with his indians, who were to throw their blankets around them and come dashing down upon us, firing and whooping in the true indian style. this program was faithfully carried out. i had been talking about indians to mccarthy, and he had become considerably excited, when just as we turned a bend in the creek we saw a band of them not half a mile away. they instantly started after us on the gallop, yelling and shooting. "mccarthy," said i, "shall we run or fight?" he did not wait to reply. wheeling his horse, he started at full speed down the creek. he lost his gun and dropped his hat, but never once did he look back to see if he were pursued. i tried to stop him by shouting that the indians were pawnees and our friends. he did not hear me, but kept straight on, never stopping his horse till he reached the camp. i knew he would tell general carr that the indians had jumped him, and that the general would at once start out with troops. so as soon as the pawnees rode up, i told them to remain there while i rode after my friend. when i had reached camp, he had given the alarm, and the general had ordered out two companies of cavalry to go in pursuit of the indians. i told the general the indians were only pawnees, and that a joke had been put up on mccarthy. i neglected to tell him who had put up the joke. he was fond of a joke himself, and did not get very angry. i had picked up mccarthy's hat, which i returned to him. it was some time before it was discovered who was at the bottom of the affair. it was while i was stationed at fort mcpherson, where brevet-major-general w.h. emory was in command, that i acted as guide for lord flynn, an english nobleman who had come over for a hunt on the plains. i had been recommended to him by general sheridan. flynn had served in india with the british army. he was a fine sportsman and a splendid shot, and secured many heads and skins while he was with me. money meant little to him. he insisted on paying all the bills, spending his money lavishly on both officers and men when he was at the post. once, when we ran out of liquid refreshments while on the hunt, we rode thirty miles to a saloon, only to find it closed. lord flynn inquired the price of the place, found it to be $500 and bought it. when we left, after having had all we needed to drink, he gave it--house, bar, stock, and all--to george dillard, who had come along with the party as a sort of official bartender. sir george watts-garland also made a hunt with us. he was an excellent hunter and a thorough gentleman, but he lacked the personality that made lord flynn one of the most popular visitors who ever came to the post. early in january, 1872, general forsythe and dr. asch, of general sheridan's staff, came to fort mcpherson to make preparations for a grand buffalo hunt to be conducted for the grand duke alexis. general sheridan was desirous of giving the russian nobleman the hunt of his life. he wanted everything ready when the grand duke arrived, so that he need lose no time at the post. by way of giving their distinguished guest a real taste of the plains, the two officers asked me to visit the camp of the sioux chief, spotted tail, and ask him to bring a hundred of his warriors to the spot on red willow creek, which, at my suggestion, had been selected as the grand duke's camp. spotted tail had permission from the government to hunt buffalo, a privilege that could not be granted to indians indiscriminately, as it involved the right to carry and use firearms. you couldn't always be sure just what kind of game an indian might select when you gave him a rifle. it might be buffalo, or it might be a white man. but spotted tail was safe and sane. hence the trust that was reposed in him. forsythe and asch, after accompanying me to the site i had found for the camp, returned to the post, while i set out to confer with mr. spotted tail. the weather was very cold, and the journey was by no means a delightful one. i was obliged to camp out with only my saddle-blankets to protect me from the weather, and only my vigilance to protect me from the indians. spotted tail himself was friendly, but some of his young men were decidedly hostile. my activities as a scout had made me many enemies among the sioux, and it is not their nature easily to forget old grudges. at the close of the first day i made camp on a tributary of frenchman's fork, and built a little fire. the night was bitter cold, and i was so busy keeping warm that i got very little sleep. the next afternoon i began to notice fresh horse tracks and the carcasses of recently killed buffaloes. i knew that i was nearing an indian camp. it was not policy to ride boldly in among the indians, as some of them might be inclined to shoot me first and discover later that i was a friend of spotted tail. so i hid my horse in a low ravine and crawled up a hill, from whose summit i obtained a good view of the country. when night fell, i rode into camp unobserved. as i entered the camp i wrapped my blanket, indian fashion, about my head, so that the redskins would not at once recognize me as a white man. then i hunted about till i found spotted tail's lodge. the old chief was stretched lazily out on a pile of robes as i looked in. he knew who i was and invited me to enter. in the lodge i found todd randall, an old white frontiersman, who was spotted tail's friend and agent, and who had lived a great many years with the indians. randall, who spoke the sioux jargon perfectly, did the interpreting, and through him i readily communicated to the chief the object of my visit. i said that the warriors and chiefs would greatly please general sheridan if they would meet him in about ten sleeps at the old government crossing at the red willow. i said that a great chief from far across the water was coming to visit them, and that he was especially anxious to meet the greatest of the indian chiefs. spotted tail replied that he would be very glad to go. he added that on the morrow he would call his men together and select from them those who were to accompany him. he told me i had acted very wisely in coming first to him, as it was known to him that some of his young men did not like me, and he knew that they had hasty tempers. he expressed himself as pleased that they had not met me outside the village, and i assured him that i was equally pleased that this was so. the chief then called his squaw, who got me something to eat, and i passed the remainder of the night in his lodge. having informed the old man that this was no ordinary occasion, and that he would be expected to do the job up right, i returned to the post. when the day set for the grand duke's arrival came there was a brave array at the station to meet him. captain hays and myself had five or six ambulances to carry his party, captain egan was on hand with a company of cavalry and twenty extra saddle-horses, and the whole population of the place was gathered to see the great man from russia. the train came in, and from it stepped general sheridan. a fine figure of a man was towering above him. this was the visitor. i was presented to the grand duke as buffalo bill, the man who would have charge of the hunt. i immediately ordered up the saddle-horse i had selected for the nobleman, also a fine horse for general sheridan. both men decided to ride for a few miles before they took seats in the ambulances. when the whole party was mounted they started south, texas jack acting as guide until such time as i could overtake them. the grand duke was very much interested in the whole proceeding, particularly in the indians. it was noticed that he cast frequent and admiring glances at a handsome red-skinned maiden who accompanied old spotted tail's daughter. when we made camp my titled guest plied me with questions about buffaloes and how to kill them. he wanted to know whether a gun or a pistol was the proper weapon and whether i would be sure to supply him with a horse that was trained in buffalo hunting. i told him that i would give him buckskin joe, the best buffalo horse in the country, and that all he would need to do would be to mount the animal and fire away every time he saw a buffalo. at nine o'clock in the morning we were all galloping over the prairies in search of big game. i waited till everyone was ready, and then led the party over a little knoll that hid the herd from view. in a few minutes we were among the buffaloes. alexis first chose to use his pistol. he sent six shots in rapid succession after one bull, at a distance of only twenty feet, but he fired wildly, and did no damage whatever. i rode up to his side, and, his pistol having been emptied, gave him mine. he seized it and fired six more shots, but not a buffalo fell. i saw that he was pretty sure to come home empty-handed if he continued this sort of pistol practice. so i gave him my old "lucretia" and told him to urge his horse close to the buffaloes, and not to shoot till i gave him the word. at the same time i gave buckskin joe a cut with my whip which sent him at a furious gallop to within ten feet of one of the biggest bulls in the herd. "now is your time," i shouted to alexis. he fired, and down went the buffalo. then, to my amazement, he dropped his gun, waved his hat in the air, and began talking to members of his suite in his native tongue, which i of course was totally unable to understand. old buckskin joe was standing behind the horse that i was riding, apparently quite as much astonished as i was at this singular conduct of a man he had accepted in good faith as a buffalo hunter. there was no more hunting for the grand duke just then. the pride of his achievement had paralyzed any further activity as a nimrod in him. presently general sheridan came riding up, and the ambulances were gathered round. soon corks were popping and champagne was flowing in honor of the grand duke alexis and his first buffalo. many of the newspapers which printed accounts of the hunt said that i had shot the buffalo for the grand duke. others asserted that i held the buffalo while the grand duke shot him. but the facts are just as i have related them. it was evident to all of us that there could be little more sport for that day. at the request of general sheridan i guided the russians back to camp. several of the others in the party decided to indulge in a little hunt on their own account, and presently we saw them galloping madly over the prairie in all directions, with terrified buffaloes flying before them. as we were crossing a stream on our way back to camp we ran into a small band that had been frightened by some of these hunters. they came sweeping across our path, not more than thirty feet away, and as they passed alexis raised his pistol and fired generally into the herd. a buffalo cow fell. it was either an extraordinary shot or a "scratch," probably the latter. the duke was as much astonished as any of us at the result, but we gave him three rousing cheers, and when the ambulance came up we had a second round of champagne in honor of the prowess of our distinguished fellow hunter. i began to hope that he would keep right on killing buffaloes all the afternoon, for it was apparent that every time he dropped an animal a basket of champagne was to be opened. and in those days on the plains champagne was not a drink that could be indulged in very often. i took care of the hides and heads of the buffaloes the grand duke had shot, as he wanted them all preserved as souvenirs of his hunt, which he was now enjoying immensely. i also cut the choice meat from the cow that he had killed and brought it into camp. at supper he had the pleasure of dining on buffalo meat which he himself had provided. eight buffaloes were killed by alexis during the three days we remained in camp. he spent most of his time in the saddle, and soon became really accomplished. after he had satisfied himself as to his own ability as a buffalo killer he expressed a desire to see how the indians hunted them. he had never seen bows and arrows used in the pursuit of game. spotted tail, who had joined the hunt according to his promise, picked out some of his best hunters, and when alexis joined them directed them to surround a herd. they were armed with bows and arrows and lances. i told the grand duke to follow one particularly skillful brave whose name was two lance, who had a reputation for being able to drive an arrow clear through the body of a bull. the indian proved equal to his fame. he hauled alongside of an animal, and, bending his powerful bow, let fly an arrow, which passed directly through the bulky carcass of a galloping brute, who fell dead instantly. the arrow, at the grand duke's request, was given to him as a souvenir which he doubtless often exhibited as proof of his story when some of his european friends proved a little bit skeptical of his yarns of the western plains. when the visitor had had enough of buffalo hunting, orders were given to return to the railroad. the conveyance provided for alexis and general sheridan was an old-fashioned irish dogcart, drawn by four spirited cavalry horses. the driver was old bill reed, an overland-stage driver, and our wagon-master. the grand duke vastly admired the manner in which he handled the reins. on the way over, general sheridan told his guest that i too was a stage-driver, and alexis expressed a desire to see me drive. "cody," called the general, "come back here and exchange places with reed. the grand duke wants you to drive for a while." in a few minutes i had the reins, and we were racing across the prairie. we jogged along steadily enough, despite a pretty rapid pace, and this did not suit general sheridan at all. "shake 'em up a little, bill," he told me as we were approaching medicine creek. "show us some old-time stage-driving." i gave the horses a sounding crack with the whip, and they jumped into their work with a real interest. the load was light and their pace increased with every second. soon they were fairly flying over the ground, and i had all i could do to maintain any control over them. at last we reached a steep hill, or divide, the further side of which sloped down to the creek. there was no brake on the wagon, and the four horses were not in the least inclined to hold back, appearing to be wholly unconcerned as to what might happen. it was impossible to restrain them. my work was cut out for me in keeping them on the track. so i let them set their own pace down the hill. the wagon bounded and rebounded from the bumps in the road, and my two distinguished passengers had to keep very busy holding their seats. however, when they saw that the horses were being kept in the road they assumed an appearance of enjoying themselves. i was unable to slacken the pace of the horses until they dashed into the camp where we were to obtain a relay. there i succeeded in checking them. [illustration: stage-coach driving was full of hair-raising adventures] the grand duke and the general said they had got a lot of enjoyment out of the ride, but i noticed that thereafter they were perfectly willing to travel at an easier pace. when we arrived at north platte, the grand duke invited me into his car, and there, over a few bottles of champagne, we went over all the details of the hunt. he said the trip was one which he would never forget and professed himself as wholly unable to thank me for my part in it. as i was leaving the car one of his suite approached me, and, extending a big roll of greenbacks, begged me to accept it as a slight token of the grand duke's appreciation of my services. i told him i could take nothing for what i had done. he then handed me a small jewel box, which i slipped into my pocket without examining, and asked if i would not also accept the magnificent fur overcoat which alexis had worn on the hunt. i had frequently admired this coat, which was made of many fine russian furs. i was glad to receive it as a remembrance from one of the most agreeable men i had ever guided on a hunting expedition. after leaving us alexis telegraphed to the most famous of new york jewelers and had made for me a wonderful set of sleeve-links and a scarf-pin, studded with diamonds and rubies, each piece in the form of a buffalo head, as large as a silver half-dollar. reporters who accompanied the expedition telegraphed the story of this order to their new york newspapers. when later i arrived in new york, after this present had been given me, some of the papers said that buffalo bill had come to new york to buy a shirt on which to wear the jewelry given him by the grand duke alexis. shortly after this, general ord, who had accompanied the hunting party, rode over with me to fort mcpherson. on the way he asked me how i would like to have a commission in the regular army. general sheridan, he said, had suggested that i ought to have a commission, and the matter could be arranged if i desired it. i thanked the general, and asked him to thank general sheridan. but though a commission was a tempting prize, i preferred to remain in the position i was holding. he said that if at any time i felt that i wanted a commission, i only needed to ask for it, and it would be given to me. all i looked forward to was the life of the plains. it was enough for me to be in the saddle, trusting each day to find some new adventure. army life would mean a great deal of routine, and routine was something i could not endure. so, giving up forever any hope of wearing an officer's shoulder-straps, i was about to turn back to the prairies to see what new opportunities for excitement offered, when a strange new call came to me. general j.j. reynolds, who had just arrived at fort mcpherson with the third cavalry, called me into the office one day and told me that he had a letter, railroad tickets, and five hundred dollars for me. furthermore he informed me that a thirty days' leave of absence was awaiting me whenever i wanted to take it. all this was the doing of the "millionaires' hunting party," headed by james gordon bennett and the jeromes, which i had guided the year before. i was, in short, invited to visit my former charges in new york, and provided by them with money and mileage, and leisure for the trip. chapter ix of course going to new york was a very serious business, and not to be undertaken lightly. the first thing i needed was clothes, and at my direction the post tailor constructed what i thought was the handsomest suit in the world. then i proceeded to buy a necktie, so that i could wear the present which had come in the little box from the grand duke--a handsome scarf-pin. the grand ducal overcoat and a new stetson, added to the wardrobe i already possessed, completed my outfit. almost everything i had was on my back, but just the same i borrowed a little trunk of my sister, so as to impress new york with the fact that i had as many clothes as any visitor from the west. at the last minute i decided to take along my buckskin suit. something told me that some of the people i had met in new york might want to know just how a scout looked in his business clothes. mrs. cody was much astonished because i did not ask for my brace of pistols, which had accompanied me everywhere i had gone up to that time. she had great confidence in these weapons, which more than once had saved my life. she wanted to know what in the world i would do without them if i met any bad men in new york. i told her that i supposed there were policemen in new york whose business it was to take care of such people. anyway, i was going to chance it. on my arrival at omaha i was met by a number of friends who had heard of my expected descent on new york. they drove me at once to the united states court, where my old friend, judge dundee, was on the bench. the minute i entered the courtroom the judge rapped loudly with his gavel and said: "this court is adjourned while cody is in town." he joined the party, and we moved on to the paxton hotel, where a banquet was arranged in my honor. i left for chicago the next day. on arriving there, i was met at the depot by colonel m.v. sheridan, brother of general philip sheridan, my old friend and fellow townsman. "mike" sheridan, with his brother, the general, was living in a beautiful house on michigan avenue. there i met a number of the old officers with whom i had served on the plains. i was still wearing the wonderful overcoat that had been given me by the grand duke alexis, and it was a source of continuous admiration among the officers, who pronounced it the most magnificent garment of its kind in america. the splendor of the general's michigan avenue mansion was new to me; never before had i seen such vast rooms and such wonderful furnishings. it was necessary to show me how the gas was turned on and off, and how the water flowed in the bathroom. i moved around the place in a daze until "mike," taking pity on me, escorted me to a barroom, where i was more at home. as we were partaking of a cocktail, a number of reporters from the chicago papers came in. they had been told of my visit and plied me with questions. in the papers the next morning i found that i had had adventures that up to that time i had never heard of. the next evening i had my first adventure in high society, and it proved more terrifying to me than any indian fight i had ever taken part in. finding i had no proper raiment for a big ball, which was to be given in my honor, "mike" sheridan took me to the clothing department of marshall field's, where i was fitted with an evening suit. the general's valet assisted me into these garments that evening. my long brown hair still flowed down over my shoulders and i was determined to go to the barber's and have it sheared before i made a public appearance, but general sheridan would not hear of this. he insisted that i crown my long locks with a plug hat, but here i was adamant. i would go to the party in my stetson or i would not go to the party at all. the ball was held at the riverside hotel, which was then one of the fashionable hostelries of chicago. when i was escorted in, i was told to give the colored boy my hat and coat--to this i violently objected. i prized the coat beyond all my earthly possessions and intended to take no chances with it. i was finally persuaded that the boy was a responsible employee of the hotel and reluctantly gave him the garment. then i suffered myself to be led into the ballroom. here i met a bevy of the most beautiful women i had ever seen. fearing every minute that i would burst my new and tight evening clothes, i bowed to them all around--but very stiffly. to the general's request that i join in the next dance i entered a firm refusal. i knew no dances but square dances, so they got up an old-fashioned quadrille for me and i managed somehow to go through it. as soon as it was over, i hurriedly escorted my fair partner to her seat, then i quickly made my way to the barroom. the man behind the bar appreciated my plight. he stowed me away in a corner behind the icebox and in that corner i remained for the rest of the evening. several times the general and his friends came down to "moisten up," and each time i heard them wondering aloud what had become of me. when the music stopped and the party broke up i emerged from my hiding-place. the next morning i reported to the general and explained to him that i was going back to the sagebrush. if new york were like chicago, i wanted to be excused. but he insisted that i continue my trip. at eleven o'clock the next morning he thrust me into a pullman car, which was in charge of mr. angel, an official of the pullman car company, and was taking a private party to the east. two of my millionaire hunting companions, j.b. heckscher and colonel schuyler crosby, met me at the station and drove me to the union club. that night i was told to put on my evening clothes and accompany them to a theater. heckscher was very much disturbed when he saw the chicago clawhammer that had been purchased for me. "it will do for tonight," he said, "but tomorrow i'll send you to my tailor and have him make you some clothes fit for a gentleman to wear." we saw edwin booth in a shakespearean play. i was told that all my wealthy hunting friends would join me at breakfast the next morning. i was up at seven o'clock and waiting for them. the hours dragged slowly by and no guests arrived. i was nearly famished, but did not dare eat until the company should be assembled. about eleven o'clock, when i was practically starved, mr. heckscher turned up. i asked him what time they usually had breakfast in new york and he said about half-past twelve or any time therafter up to three. at one, the gentlemen all made their appearance and were somewhat astonished at the amount of breakfast i stowed away, until they were told that i had been fasting since seven o'clock that morning. during my visit to new york, i was taken by mr. james gordon bennett to niblo's garden, where i saw "the black crook." we witnessed the performance from a private box and my breath was fairly taken away when the curtain went up on the fifth act. needless to say, that was the first time i had ever witnessed a musical show and i thought it the most wonderful spectacle i had ever gazed upon. the remainder of my visit in new york was spent in a series of dinners and theater parties. i was entertained in the house of each gentleman who had been with me on the hunt. i had the time of my life. after i had had about all the high life i could stand for the time being i set out for westchester, pa., to find the only relative i knew in the east. my mother was born in germantown. her sister had married one henry r. guss, of westchester. i found on reaching westchester that my relative was one of its most important citizens, having the civil war title of general. i found his home with no trouble, and he was very delighted to see me. an old lady, who was a member of his household, he introduced to me as my grandmother. his first wife, my aunt eliza, was dead, and he had married a second time. he also introduced me to his son, captain george guss, who had been in the army with him during the civil war. it was not until we had talked of old family connections for an hour or more that they discovered that i was buffalo bill; then they simply flooded me with questions. to make sure that i would return for a second visit, the young people of the family accompanied me back to new york. i was due for a dinner that evening, so i gave them a card to mr. palmer, of niblo's garden, and they all went to see "the black crook." when i reached the club i was given a telegram from general sheridan telling me to hasten to chicago. he wanted me to hurry on to fort mcpherson and guide the third cavalry, under general reynolds, on a military expedition. the indians had been committing serious devastations and it was necessary to suppress them summarily. at the dinner, which was given by mr. bennett, i told my new york friends that i would have to leave for the west the next day. when the party broke up i went directly to the albemarle hotel and told my cousins that we would have to start early the next morning for westchester. there i would remain twenty-four hours. when we reached westchester, my uncle informed me that they had arranged a fox hunt for the next morning, and that all the people in the town and vicinity would be present. they wanted to see a real scout and plainsman in the saddle. early next morning many ladies and gentlemen, splendidly mounted, appeared in front of my uncle's residence. at that time westchester possessed the best pack of fox hounds in america. captain trainer, master of the hounds, provided me with a spirited horse which had on a little sheepskin saddle of a kind on which i had never ridden. i was familiar neither with the horse, the saddle, the hounds, nor fox-hunting, and was extremely nervous. i would have backed out if i could, but i couldn't, so i mounted the horse and we all started on the chase. we galloped easily along for perhaps a mile and i was beginning to think fox-hunting a very tame sport indeed when suddenly the hounds started off on a trail, all barking at once. the master of the hounds and several of the other riders struck off across country on the trail, taking fences and stone walls at full gallop. i noticed that my uncle and several elderly gentlemen stuck to the road and kept at a more moderate gait. the eyes of the spectators were all on me. i don't know what they expected me to do, but at any rate they were disappointed. to their manifest disgust i stayed with the people on the road. shortly we came to a tavern and i went in and nerved myself with a stiff drink, also i had a bottle filled with liquid courage, which i took along with me. just by way of making a second fiasco impossible i took three more drinks while i was in the bar, then i galloped away and soon overtook the hunters. the first trail of the hounds had proved false. two miles further on they struck a true trail and away they went at full cry. i had now got used to the saddle and the gait of my horse. i also had prepared myself in the tavern for any course of action that might offer. the m.f.h. began taking stone walls and hedges and i took every one that he did. across the country we went and nothing stopped or daunted me until the quarry was brought to earth. i was in at the death and was given the honor of keeping the brush. at two o'clock that afternoon i took my departure for the west. mr. frank thompson, of the pennsylvania railroad, who had ridden my famous buffalo horse, buckskin joe, on the great hunt, sent me to chicago in his own private car. at the station in chicago i was met with orders from general sheridan to continue straight ahead to fort mcpherson as quickly as possible. the expedition was waiting for me. at omaha a party of my friends took me off the train and entertained me until the departure of the next train. they had heard of my evening clothes and insisted on my arraying myself therein for their benefit. my trunk was taken to the paxton hotel and i put on the clawhammer and all that went with it. about fifty of my omaha friends accompanied me to the train; in my silk hat and evening dress i was an imposing spectacle. but i expected to change into my plains clothes as soon as i got into the car. however, these plans were sadly upset. both my friends and i had forgotten my trunk, which in the hour of my greatest need was still reposing in a room in the paxton hotel, while in clothes fit only for a banquet i was speeding over the plains to a possible indian fight. at fort mcpherson, my old friend, "buffalo chips," was waiting for me. he had been left behind by general reynolds to tell me to overtake the command as soon as possible. he had brought out old buckskin joe for me to ride. the expedition was already well on its way north into the loup country and had camped at pawnee springs, about eight miles from mcpherson station, the night before. poor old buffalo chips almost fell dead when he saw how i was dressed. the hat especially filled him with amazement and rage, but there was nothing else to do. i had to go as i was or go not at all. the champagne with which my omaha friends had filled my stateroom i gave to the boys at the station. i did not have to urge them to accept it. they laughed a good deal at my stovepipe hat and evening dress, but because of the champagne they let me off without as much guying as i would otherwise have received. jumping on our horses, we struck out on the trail of the soldiers. it was about one o'clock when we overtook them. as we neared the rear guard, i pulled off my overcoat and strapped it behind my saddle. i also put my hair up under my stovepipe hat and galloped past the command, to all appearances fresh from a new york ballroom. "look at the dude! look at the dude!" they shouted as i rode among them. paying no attention to them, i galloped up and overtook general reynolds. saluting him, i said: "general, i have come to report for duty." "who in thunder are you?" he demanded, looking at me without a sign of recognition in his eye. "why, general," i said, "i am to be your guide on this expedition." he looked at me a second time, and a grin spread over his face. "can it be possible that you are cody?" he asked. i told him that i was cody. "let down your hair," he commanded. i took off my hat, and my hair fell over my shoulders. a loud yell went up from both officers and enlisted men, as the word went up and down the line that the dude they had been bedeviling was none other than buffalo bill. texas jack and the scouts who were ahead had heard the noise and came galloping back. "welcome back, old chief!" shouted jack, and the scouts gathered around me, shaking my hand and congratulating me on my safe return from the dangers and the perils of the east. the general asked me how far it was to the loup fork. i said it was about eight miles and offered to proceed there ahead of the command and select a good sheltered camp. this i did. the adjutant accompanying the detachment helped me and laid out the camping spot, and when the command pulled in they disposed themselves for the night in a beautiful grove of timber where there was plenty of firewood and good grass for the horses and mules. soon the tents were up and big fires were crackling all around. i accepted with thanks general reynolds's invitation to mess with him on the trip. after dinner, before a big log fire, which was being built in front of the general's tent, the officers came up to meet me. among those to whom i was introduced were colonel anthony mills, major curtiss, major alexander moore, captain jerry russell, lieutenant charles thompson, quartermaster lieutenant johnson, adjutant captain minehold, and lieutenant lawson. after this reception, i went down to visit the scouts in camp. there the boys dug me up all kinds of clothes, and clothes of the western kind i very sadly needed. white had brought along an old buckskin suit. when i had got this on and an old stetson on my head, and had my favorite pair of guns strapped to me and my dear old "lucretia borgia" was within reach, i felt that buffalo bill was himself again. the general informed me that evening that indians had been reported on the dismal river. at breakfast the next morning he said that a large war party had been committing devastations up and down the flat. his scouts had discovered their trail going north and had informed him that they would probably make camp on the dismal. there they were sure to be joined by other indians. he asked my opinion as to what had best be done. i told him it was about twenty-five miles from the present tent to the dismal river. i said i had better go on, taking white with me, and try to locate them. "i've heard of this man white," said the general. "they tell me that he is your shadow and he follows you every place you go." i said that this was true and that i had all i could do to keep him from following me to new york. "it would break his heart," i said, "if i were to leave him behind now." i added that texas jack knew the country thoroughly and that he could guide the command to a point on the dismal river where i could meet them that night. the general said: "i have been fighting the apaches in arizona, but i find these sioux are an entirely different crowd. i know little about them and i will follow your suggestions. you start now and i will have the command following you in an hour and a half." i told white to get our horses at once and also to tell texas jack to report to me. when the latter reported i told him the general wanted him to guide the command to the course of the dismal. when he got there, if he didn't hear from me in the meantime, he was to select a good camp. white and i set out, riding carefully and looking for the trail. we had traveled about ten miles when i found it. the indians were headed toward the dismal. presently another trail joined the first one, and then we had to begin extremely careful scouting. i didn't follow the indian trail, but bordered the left and struck the river about five miles above the fork. there we turned down-stream. soon on the opposite side we saw a party of indians surrounding a herd of elk. i didn't approach them closely, neither did i follow down the stream any further. we kept parallel with the course of the river, and soon stopped at the foot of a high sandhill. from here i knew i could get a view of the whole country. i told white to remain there until i came back, and, jumping off old joe, i cautiously climbed the hill. from behind a big soapweed--a plant sometimes called spanish dagger--i got a view of the dismal river, for several miles. i immediately discovered smoke arising from a bunch of timber about three miles below me. grazing around the timber were several hundred head of horses. here i knew the indian camp to be located. i slipped down the hill, and, running to old joe, mounted, telling white at the same time that i had located the camp. then we began circling the sandhill until we got two or three miles away, keeping out of sight of the indians all the time. when we felt we were safe we made a straight sweep to meet the command. i found the scouts first and told texas jack to hold up the soldiers, keeping them out of sight until he heard from me. i went on until i met general reynolds at the head of the column. he baited the troop on my approach; taking him to one side, i told him what i had discovered. he said: "as you know the country and the location of the indian camp, tell me how you would proceed." i suggested that he leave one company as an escort for the wagon-train and let them follow slowly. i would leave one guide to show them the way. then i would take the rest of the cavalry and push on as rapidly as possible to within a few miles of the camp. that done, i would divide the command, sending one portion across the river to the right, five miles below the indians, and another one to bear left toward the village. still another detachment was to be kept in readiness to move straight for the camp. this, however, was not to be done until the flanking column had time to get around and across the river. it was then two o'clock. by four o'clock the flanking columns would be in their proper positions to move on and the charge could begin. i said i would go with the right-hand column and send texas jack with the left-hand column. i would leave white with the main detachment. i impressed on the general the necessity of keeping in the ravine of the sandhills so as to be out of sight of the indians. i said that, notwithstanding all the caution that we could take, we were likely to run into a party of hunters, who would immediately inform the camp of our presence. in case of discovery, i said, it would be necessary to make our charge at once. general reynolds called his officers together and gave them my suggestions as their instructions. in a very few minutes everything was moving. i accompanied colonel mills. his column had crossed the dismal and was about two miles to the north of it when i saw a party of indians chasing elk. i knew that sooner or later--probably sooner--these indians would see me. i told colonel mills he had better send the scout back to general reynolds and make all haste to charge the village. we had no way of sending word to major curtiss, who led the other flanking column, and we had to trust to luck that he would hear the firing when it started. colonel mills kept his troops on the lowest ground i could pick out, but we made our way steadily toward the village. inside of half an hour we heard firing up the river from where we were. colonel mills at once ordered his troops to charge. luckily it collided with the indians' herd of horses, which were surrounded, thus depriving most of the braves of their mounts. men were left to guard the animals, and, taking the rest of the company, we charged the village, reaching it a little after the arrival of general reynolds. the attack was not as much a surprise as we had hoped for. some of the indian hunters had spied the soldiers and notified the camp, but general reynolds, coming from the south, had driven all the indians on foot and all the squaws and children toward the sandhills on the north. mills came pretty near finding more indians than he was looking for. their force largely outnumbered ours when we collided, but major curtiss came charging down from the north just at this instant. his arrival was such a complete surprise that the indians gave up and began waving the white flag. then all firing ceased. on rounding them up we found that we had captured about two hundred and fifty warriors, women, and children, most of whom were from the spotted tail agency. the general had the indians instantly disarmed. most of their tepees were up and they were ordered to go into them and remain there. we placed a sufficient guard around the whole camp so that none could escape. on the arrival of the wagon-train, for which a scout had been sent, the command went into camp. taking me aside, general reynolds said: "i want you to send one of your fastest men back to fort mcpherson. i am sending dispatches to general ord, asking for instructions." i selected white to make this trip, and he was ready for duty in five minutes. we were then sixty-five miles from fort mcpherson station. i told white that the matter was urgent and that he must get to that telegraph office as soon as possible. at ten o'clock the next morning he rode into our camp with a telegram to general reynolds. the general was ordered to disarm all the indians and send them under guard of a company of cavalry to the spotted tail agency. general reynolds was very much delighted with the success of the expedition. on his arrival at the fort he received congratulations from general ord and from general sheridan. general sheridan asked in his telegram if cody had gone along. the general wired back that cody had gone along and also wrote a letter telling general sheridan how he had reported in evening dress. of course the papers were soon full of this raid. al sorenson of the omaha _bee_, who had seen my evening clothes and silk hat in omaha, wrote an extremely graphic story of my arrival on the plains. i soon found that the officers and men in the third cavalry knew all about the incident. during the spring of '72, the indians were rather quiet. we did a little scouting, however, just to keep watch on them. one day, in the fall of that year, i returned from a scouting expedition, and as i passed the store there were a lot of men crowded in front of it. all of them saluted me with "how do you do, honorable!" i rode straight to the general's private office. he also stood at attention and said: "good morning, honorable." "what does all this 'honorable' mean, general?" i demanded. he said: "of course, you have been off on a scout and you have not heard, but while you were gone you were nominated and elected to represent the twenty-sixth district of nebraska in the legislature." i said: "that is highly complimentary, and i appreciate it, but i am no politician and i shall have to tender my resignation," and tender it i did. my refusal to serve as a lawmaker was unqualified. i knew nothing about politics. i believe that i made a fairly good justice of the peace, but that was because of no familiarity with the written law. i merely applied the principles of fair-dealing to my cases and did as i would have been done by. the golden rule was the only statute i applied. i inquired how to free myself formally from the new honors that had been thrust upon me, and soon another man was serving in my stead--and quite welcome he was to the pay and credit that might have been mine. i returned back to the plains for employment, but there was nothing to do. the indians, for a wonder, were quiet. there was little stirring in the military posts. i could have continued to serve in one of them if i had chosen, and the way was still open to study for a commission as an officer. but army life without excitement was not interesting for me, and when ned buntline offered me a chance to come east and try my fortunes as an actor i accepted. i accepted with misgivings, naturally. hunting indians across a stage differed from following them across the plains. i knew the wild western indian and his ways. i was totally unacquainted with the tame stage indian, and the thought of a great gaping audience looking at me across the footlights made me shudder. but when my old "pards," wild bill and texas jack, consented to try their luck with me in the new enterprise i felt better. together we made the trip to new york, and played for a time in the hodgepodge drama written for us by ned buntline himself. before any of us would consent to be roped and tied by thespis we insisted on a proviso that we be freed whenever duty called us to the plains. the first season was fairly prosperous, and so was the second. the third year i organized a "show" of my own, with real indians in it--the first, i believe, who ever performed on a stage. i made money and began to get accustomed to the new life, but in 1876 the call for which i had been listening came. the sioux war was just breaking out. i closed the show earlier than usual and returned to the west. colonel mills had written me several times to say that general crook wanted me to accompany his command. when i left chicago i had expected to catch up with crook at the powder river, but i learned en route that my old command, the gallant fifth cavalry, was on its way from arizona to join him, and that general carr, my former commander, was at its head. carr wanted me as his guide and chief of scouts, and had written to army headquarters in chicago to learn where i could be reached. as soon as this news came to me i gave up the idea of overtaking crook. i hastened to cheyenne, where the fifth cavalry had already arrived, and was met at the depot there by lieutenant charles king, adjutant of the regiment, who had been sent by general carr from fort d.a. russell. in later years, as general charles king, this officer became a widely popular author, and wrote some of the best novels and stories of indian life that i have ever read. as i accompanied the lieutenant back to the fort, we passed soldiers who recognized me and shouted greetings. when we entered the post a great shout of "here's buffalo bill!" arose from the men on the parade ground. it was like old times, and i felt a thrill of happiness to be back among my friends, and bound for one of the regular old-time campaigns. the following morning the command pulled out for fort laramie. we found general sheridan there ahead of us, and mighty glad was i to see that brave and able commander once more. sheridan was accompanied by general frye and general forsythe, and all were en route for the red cloud agency, near the center of the sioux trouble, which was then reaching really alarming proportions. the command was to remain at laramie for a few days; so, at general sheridan's request, i accompanied him on his journey. we were able to accomplish little in the way of peace overtures. the indians had lately committed many serious depredations along the black hills trail. gold had been discovered there in many new places, and the miners, many of them tenderfoots, and unused to the ways of the red man, had come into frequent conflict with their new neighbors. massacres, some of them very flagrant, had resulted and most of the treaties our government had made with the indians had been ruthlessly broken. on my return from the agency, the fifth cavalry was sent out to scout the country between there and the black hills. we operated along the south fork of the cheyenne and about the foot of the black hills for two weeks, and had several small engagements with roving bands of indians during that time. all these bands were ugly and belligerent, and it was plain from the spirit they showed that there had been a general understanding among all the redskins thereabout that the time had come to drive the white man from the country. brevet-general wesley merritt, who had lately received his promotion to the colonelcy of the fifth cavalry, now took command of the regiment. i regretted that the command had been taken from general carr. i was fond of him personally, and it was under him that the regiment made its fine reputation as a fighting organization. i soon became well acquainted with general merritt, however, and found him to be a brave man and an excellent officer. the regiment did continuous and hard scouting. we soon believed we had driven all the hostile indians out of that part of the country. in fact, we were starting back to fort laramie, regarding the business at hand as finished, when a scout arrived at our camp and reported the massacre of general custer and his whole force on the little big horn. this massacre occurred june 25, 1876, and its details are known, or ought to be known, by every schoolboy. custer was a brave, dashing, headlong soldier, whose only fault was recklessness. he had been warned many times never to expose a small command to a superior force of indians, and never to underestimate the ability and generalship of the sioux. he had unbounded confidence, however, in himself and his men, and i believe that not until he was struck down did he ever doubt that he would be able to cut his way out of the wall of warriors about him and turn defeat into a glorious and conspicuous victory. the news of the massacre, which was the most terrible that ever overtook a command of our soldiers, was a profound shock to all of us. we knew at once that we would all have work to do, and settled grimly into the preparations for it. colonel stanton, who was with the fifth cavalry on this scout, had been sent to the red cloud agency two days before. that night a message came from him that eight hundred warriors had left the agency to join sitting bull on the little big horn. notwithstanding instructions to proceed immediately by way of fort fetterman to join crook, general merritt took the responsibility of endeavoring to intercept the cheyennes and thereby performed a very important service. for this job the general selected five hundred men and horses. in two hours we were making a forced march back to war bonnet creek. our intention was to reach the indian trail running to the north across this watercourse before the cheyennes could get there. we arrived the next night. at daylight the next morning, july 17, i proceeded ahead on a scout. i found that the indians had not yet crossed the creek. on my way back to the command i discovered a large party of indians. i got close enough to observe them, and they proved to be cheyennes, coming from the south. with this information. i hurried back to report. the cavalrymen were ordered to mount their horses quietly and remain out of sight, while general merritt, accompanied by two or three aides and myself, went on a little tour of observation to a neighboring hill. from the summit of this we saw the indians approaching almost directly toward us. as we stood watching, fifteen or twenty of them wheeled and dashed off to the west, from which direction we had come the night before. searching the country to see what it was which had caused this unexpected maneuver, we observed two mounted soldiers approaching us on the trail. obviously they were bearing dispatches from the command of general merritt. it was clear that the indians who had left their main body were intent on intercepting and murdering these two men. general merritt greatly feared that they would accomplish this purpose. how to aid them was a problem. if soldiers were sent to their assistance, the indians would observe the rescuers, and come to the right conclusion that a body of troops was lying in wait for them. this of course would turn them back, and the object of our expedition would be defeated. the commander asked me if i had any suggestions. "general," i replied, "why not wait until the scouts get a little nearer? when they are about to charge on the two men, i will take fifteen soldiers, dash down and cut them off from their main body. that will prevent them from going back to report, and the others will fall into our trap." the general at once saw the possibilities of the scheme. "if you can do that, cody, go ahead," he said. i at once rushed back to the command and jumped on my horse. with fifteen of the best men i could pick in a hurry i returned to the point of observation. i placed myself and my men at the order of general merritt, and asked him to give me the word at the proper time. he was diligently studying the country before him with his field-glasses. when he thought the indians were as close to the unsuspecting scouts as was safe, he sang out: "go on now, cody, and be quick about it. they are going to charge on the couriers." the two soldiers were not more than a hundred yards from us. the indians, now making ready to swoop down, were a hundred yards further on. we tore over the bluffs and advanced at a gallop. they saw us and gave battle. a running fight lasted for several minutes, during which we drove them back a fairly safe distance and killed three of their number. the main body of the cheyennes had now come into plain sight, and the men who escaped from us rode back toward it. the main force halted when its leaders beheld the skirmish, and seemed for a time at a loss as to what was best to do. we turned toward general merritt, and when we had made about half the distance the indians we had been chasing suddenly turned toward us and another lively skirmish took place. one of the indians, who was elaborately decorated with all the ornaments usually worn by a great chief when he engaged in a fight, saw me and sang out: "i know you, pa-ho-has-ka! come and fight with me!" the name he used was one by which i had long been known by the indians. it meant long-yellow-hair. the chief was riding his horse to and fro in front of his men, in order to banter me. i concluded to accept his challenge. i turned and galloped toward him for fifty yards, and he rode toward me about the same distance. both of us rode at full speed. when we were only thirty yards apart i raised my rifle and fired. his horse dropped dead under him, and he rolled over on the ground to clear himself of the carcass. almost at the same instant my own horse stepped into a hole and fell heavily. the fall hurt me but little, and almost instantly i was on my feet. this was no time to lie down and nurse slight injuries. the chief and i were now both on our feet, not twenty paces apart. we fired at each other at the same instant. my usual luck held. his bullet whizzed harmlessly past my head, while mine struck him full in the breast. he reeled and fell, but i took no chances. he had barely touched the ground, when i was upon him, knife in hand, and to make sure of him drove the steel into his heart. this whole affair, from beginning to end, occupied but little time. the indians, seeing that i was a little distance from my pony, now came charging down upon me from the hill, in the hope of cutting me off. general merritt had witnessed the duel, and, realizing the danger i was in, ordered colonel mason with company k to hurry to my rescue. this order came none too soon. had it been given one minute later two hundred indians would have been upon me, and this present narration would have had to be made by some one else. as the soldiers came up i swung the war-bonnet high in the air and shouted: "the first scalp for custer!" it was by this time clear to general merritt that he could not ambush the indians. so he ordered a general charge. for a time they made a stubborn resistance, but no eight hundred indians, or twice that number, for that matter, could make a successful stand against such veteran and fearless fighters as the fifth cavalry. they soon came to that conclusion themselves and began a running retreat for the red cloud agency. for thirty-five miles, over the roughest kind of ground, we drove them before us. soon they were forced to abandon their spare horses and all the equipment they had brought along. despite the imminent risk of encountering thousands of other indians at the agency, we drove our late adversaries directly into it. no one in our command had any assurance that the indians gathered there had not gone on the warpath, but little difference that made to us. the fifth cavalry, on the warpath itself, would stop at nothing. it was dark when we entered the reservation. all about us we could see the huddling forms of indians--thousands of them--enough, in fact, to have consummated another custer massacre. but they showed no disposition to fight. while at the agency i learned that the indian i had killed in the morning was none other than yellow hand, a son of old cut nose, who was a leading chief of the cheyennes. the old man learned from the members of yellow hand's party that i had killed his son, and sent a white interpreter to me offering four mules in exchange for the young chief's war-bonnet. this request i was obliged to refuse, as i wanted it as a trophy of the first expedition to avenge the death of custer and his men. the next morning we started to join the command of general crook, which was encamped at the foot of cloud peak in the big horn mountains. they had decided to await the arrival of the fifth cavalry before proceeding against the sioux, who were somewhere near the head of the big horn river, in a country that was as nearly inaccessible as any of the western fastnesses. by making rapid marches we reached crook's camp on goose creek about the third of august. at this camp i met many of my old friends, among them being colonel royal, who had just received his promotion to a lieutenant-colonelcy. royal introduced me to general crook, whom i had never met before, but with whose reputation as an indian fighter i was of course familiar, as was everybody in the west. the general's chief guide was frank grouard, a half-breed, who had lived six years with sitting bull himself, and who was thoroughly familiar with the sioux and their country. after one day in camp the whole command pulled out for tongue river, leaving the wagons behind. our supplies were carried by a big pack-train. down the tongue we marched for two days of hard going, thence westerly to the rosebud river. here we struck the main indian trail leading down-stream. from the size of this trail, which was not more than four days old, we estimated that at least seven thousand indians, one of the biggest indian armies ever gathered together, must have gone that way. it was here that we were overtaken by captain jack crawford, widely known east and west as "the poet scout." crawford had just heard of the custer massacre, and had written a very creditable poem upon receipt of the news. his pen was always ready, and he made many epics of the west, many of which are still popular throughout the country. jack was a tenderfoot at that time, having lately come to that country. but he had abundant pluck and courage. he had just brought dispatches to crook from fort fetterman, riding more than three hundred miles through a country literally alive with hostile indians. these dispatches notified crook that general terry was to operate with a large command south of the yellowstone, and that the two commands would probably consolidate somewhere on the rosebud. on learning that i was with crook, crawford at once hunted me up, and gave me a letter from general sheridan, announcing his appointment as a scout. he also informed me that he had brought me a present from general jones, of cheyenne. "what kind of a present?" i inquired, seeing no indication of any package about jack. "a bottle of whisky!" he almost shouted. i clapped my hand over his mouth. news that whisky was in the camp was likely to cause a raid by a large number of very dry scouts and soldier men. only when jack and i had assured ourselves that we were absolutely alone did i dare dip into his saddle pockets and pull forth the treasure. i will say in passing that i don't believe there is another scout in the west that would have brought a full bottle of whisky three hundred miles. but jack was "bone dry." as crawford refused to join me, and i was never a lone drinker, i invited general carr over to sample the bottle. we were just about to have a little drink for two when into camp rode young lathrop, the reporter for the associated press to whom we had given the name of death rattler. death rattler appeared to have scented the whisky from afar, for he had no visible errand with us. we were glad to have him, however, as he was a good fellow, and certainly knew how to appreciate a drink. for two or three days the command pushed on, but we did not seem to gain much on the indians. they apparently knew exactly where we were and how fast we were going, and they moved just as fast as we did. on the fourth day of our pursuit i rode about ten miles ahead of the command till i came to a hill which gave a fine view of the surrounding country. mounting this, i searched the hills with my field-glasses. soon i saw a great column of smoke rising about ten miles down the creek. as this cloud drifted aside in the keen wind, i could see a column of men marching beneath it. these i at first believed to be the indians we were after, but closer study revealed them as general terry's soldiers. i forthwith dispatched a scout who was with me to take this news to crook. but he had no more than gone when i discovered a band of indians on the opposite side of the creek and another party of them directly in front of me. for a few minutes i fancied that i had made a mistake, and that the men i had seen under the dust were really indians after all. but very shortly i saw a body of soldiers forming a skirmish line. then i knew that terry's men were there, and that the indians i had seen were terry's scouts. these indians had mistaken me for an indian, and, believing that i was the leader of a big party, shouted excitedly: "the sioux are coming." that is why the general threw out the skirmish line i had observed. general terry, on coming into the post, ordered the seventh cavalry to form a line of battle across the rosebud; he also brought up his artillery and had the guns unlimbered for action, doubtless dreading another custer massacre. these maneuvers i witnessed from my hill with considerable amusement, thinking the command must be badly frightened. after i had enjoyed the situation to my heart's content i galloped toward the skirmish line, waving my hat. when i was within a hundred yards of the troops, colonel wier of the seventh cavalry rode out to meet me. he recognized me at once, and convoyed me inside the line, shouting to the soldiers: "boys, here's buffalo bill!" thereupon three rousing cheers ran all the way down the line. colonel wier presented me to general terry. the latter questioned me closely and was glad to learn that the alarm had been a false one. i found that i was not entitled alone to the credit of having frightened the whole seventh cavalry. the indian scouts had also seen far behind me the dust raised by crook's troops, and were fully satisfied that a very large force of sioux was in the vicinity and moving to the attack. at general terry's request i accompanied him as he rode forward to meet crook. that night both commands went into camp on the rosebud. general terry had his wagon-train with him, so the camp had everything to make life as comfortable as it can be on an indian trail. the officers had large wall-tents, with portable beds to stow inside them, and there were large hospital tents to be used as dining-rooms. terry's camp looked very comfortable and homelike. it presented a sharp contrast to the camp of crook, who had for his headquarters only one small fly-tent, and whose cooking utensils consisted of a quart cup in which he brewed his own coffee, and a sharp stick on which he broiled his bacon. when i compared these two camps i concluded that crook was a real indian fighter. he had plainly learned that to follow indians a soldier must not be hampered by any great weight of luggage or equipment. that evening general terry ordered general miles, with the fifth infantry, to return by a forced march to the yellowstone, and to proceed by steamboat down that stream to the mouth of the powder river, where the indians could be intercepted in case they made an attempt to cross the stream. the regiment made a forced march that night of thirty-five miles, which was splendid traveling for an infantry regiment through a mountainous country. generals crook and terry spent the evening and the next day in council. the following morning both commands moved out on the indian trail. although terry was the senior officer, he did not assume command of both expeditions. crook was left in command of his own troops, though the two forces operated together. we crossed the tongue river and moved on to the powder, proceeding down that stream to a point twenty miles from its junction with the yellowstone. there the indian trail turned to the southeast, in the direction of the black hills. the two commands were now nearly out of supplies. the trail was abandoned, and the troops kept on down the powder river to its confluence with the yellowstone. there we remained for several days. general nelson a. miles, who was at the head of the fifth infantry, and who had been scouting in the vicinity, reported that no indians had as yet crossed the yellowstone. several steamboats soon arrived with large quantities of supplies, and the soldiers, who had been a little too close to famine to please them, were once more provided with full stomachs on which they could fight comfortably, should the need for fighting arise. one evening while we were in camp on the yellowstone at the mouth of the powder river i was informed that louis richard, a half-breed scout, and myself, had been selected to accompany general miles on a reconnaisance. we were to take the steamer _far west_ down the yellowstone as far as glendive creek. we were to ride in the pilot-house and keep a sharp look-out for indians on both banks of the river. the idea of scouting from a steamboat was to me an altogether novel one, and i was immensely pleased at the prospect. at daylight the next morning we reported on the steamer to general miles, who had with him four or five companies of his regiment. we were somewhat surprised when he asked us why we had not brought our horses. we were at a loss to see how we could employ horses in the pilothouse of a river steamboat. he said that we might need them before we got back, so we sent for them and had them brought on board. in a few minutes we were looking down the river, the swift current enabling the little steamer to make a speed of twenty miles an hour. the commander of the _far west_ was captain grant march, a fine chap of whom i had often heard. for many years he was one of the most famous swift-water river captains in the country. it was on his steamer that the wounded from the battle of the little big horn had been transported to fort abraham lincoln, on the missouri river. on that trip he made the fastest steamboat time on record. he was an excellent pilot, and handled his boat in those swift and dangerous waters with remarkable dexterity. with richard and me at our station in the pilothouse the little steamer went flying down-stream past islands, around bends, and over sandbars at a rate that was exhilarating, but sometimes a little disquieting to men who had done most of their navigating on the deck of a western pony. presently, far away inland, i thought i could see horses grazing, and reported this belief to general miles. the general pointed out a large tree on the bank, and asked the captain if he could land the boat there. "i can not only land her there; i can make her climb the tree if you think it would be any use," returned march. he brought the boat skillfully alongside the tree, and let it go at that, as the general could see no particular advantage in sending the steamboat up the tree. richard and i were ordered to take our horses and push out as rapidly as possible to see if there were any indians in the vicinity. meanwhile, general miles kept his soldiers in readiness to march instantly if we reported any work for them to do. as we rode off, captain march, sang out: "boys, if there was only a heavy dew on the grass, i could send the old craft right along after you." it was a false alarm, however. the objects i had seen proved to be indian graves, with only good indians in them. on arriving at glendive creek we found that colonel rice and his company of the fifth infantry which had been sent on ahead by general miles had built a good little fort with their trowel bayonets. colonel rice was the inventor of this weapon, and it proved very useful in indian warfare. it is just as deadly in a charge as the regular bayonet, and can also be used almost as effectively as a shovel for digging rifle-pits and throwing up intrenchments. the _far west_ was to remain at glendive overnight. general miles wanted a scout to go at once with messages for general terry, and i was selected for the job. that night i rode seventy-five miles through the bad lands of the yellowstone. i reached general terry's camp the next morning, after having nearly broken my neck a dozen times or more. anyone who has seen that country in the daytime knows that it is not exactly the kind of a place one would pick out for pleasure riding. imagine riding at night, over such a country, filled with almost every imaginable obstacle to travel, and without any real roads, and you can understand the sort of a ride i had that night. i was mighty glad to see the dawn break, and to be able to pick my way a little more securely, although i could not increase the pace at which i had driven my horse through the long, dark night. there was no present prospect of carrying this out, however. after i had taken lunch, general terry asked me if i would carry some dispatches to general whistler, and i replied that i would be glad to do so. captain smith, terry's aide-de-camp, offered me his horse, and i was glad to accept the animal, as my own was pretty well spent. he proved to be a fine mount. i rode him forty miles that night in four hours, reaching general whistler's steamboat at four in the morning. when whistler had read the dispatches i handed him he said: "cody, i want to send information to general terry concerning the indians that have been skirmishing around here all day. i have been trying to induce some member in my command to carry them, but no one wants to go." "get your dispatches ready, general," i replied, "and i'll take them." he went into his quarters and came out presently with a package, which he handed me. i mounted the same horse which had brought me, and at eight o'clock that evening reached terry's headquarters, just as his force was about to march. as soon as terry had read the dispatches he halted his command, which was already under way. then he rode on ahead to overtake general crook, with whom he held a council. at general terry's urgent request i accompanied him on a scout for dry fork, on the missouri. we marched three days, a little to the east of north. when we reached the buffalo range we discovered some fresh indian signs. the redskins had been killing buffalo, and the evidences of their work were very plain. terry now called on me to carry dispatches to colonel rice, who was still encamped at the mouth of glendive creek on the yellowstone. this was about eighty miles distant. night had set in with a storm. a drizzling rain was falling, which made the going slippery, and made the blackness of the western plains still blacker. i was entirely unacquainted with the section of the country through which i was to ride. i therefore traveled all night and remained in seclusion in the daytime. i had too many plans for the future to risk a shot from a hostile redskin who might be hunting white men along my way. at daylight i unsaddled my mount and made a hearty breakfast of bacon and hardtack. then i lighted my pipe, and, making a pillow of my saddle, lay down to rest. the smoke and the fatigue of the night's journey soon made me drowsy, and before i knew it i was fast asleep. suddenly i was awakened by a loud rumbling noise. i seized my gun instantly, and sprang toward my horse, which i had picketed in a hidden spot in the brush near by where he would be out of sight of any passing indians. climbing a steep hill, i looked cautiously over the country from which the noise appeared to come. there before me was a great herd of buffalo, moving at full gallop. twenty indians were behind it, riding hard and firing into the herd as they rode. others near by were cutting up the carcasses of the animals that had already been killed. i saddled my horse and tied him near me. then i crawled on my stomach to the summit of the hill, and for two hours i lay there watching the progress of the chase. when the indians had killed all the buffalo they wanted they rode off in the direction whence they had come. this happened to be the way that i hoped to go on my own expedition. i made up my mind that their camp was located somewhere between me and glendive creek. i was not at all eager to have any communication with these gentlemen. therefore, when i resumed my journey at nightfall, i made a wide detour around the place where i believed their camp would be. i avoided it successfully, reaching colonel rice's camp just after daybreak. the colonel had been fighting indians almost every day since he encamped at this point. he was anxious that terry should know of this so that reã«nforcements might be sent, and the country cleared of the redskins. of course it fell to my lot to carry this word back to terry. i undertook the mission willingly enough, for by this time i was pretty well used to night riding through a country beset with perils, and rather enjoyed it. the strain of my recent rides had told on me, but the excitement bore me up. indeed, when a man is engaged in work of this kind, the exhilaration is such that he forgets all about the wear and tear on his system, and not until all danger is over and he is safely resting in camp does he begin to feel what he has been through. then a good long sleep usually puts him all right again. many and many a time i have driven myself beyond what i believed was the point of physical endurance, only to find that i was ready for still further effort if the need should arise. the fact that i continued in rugged health during all the time i was on the plains, and have had little illness throughout my life, seems to prove that living and working outdoors, despite its hardships, is far better for a man than any sedentary occupation can possibly be. i started back to overhaul general terry, and on the third day out i found him at the head of deer creek. he was on his way to colonel rice's camp. he was headed in the right direction, but bearing too far east. he asked me to guide his command in the right course, which i did. on arriving at glendive i bade good-by to the general and his officers and took passage on the _far west_, which was on her way down the missouri. at bismarck i left the steamer, and proceeded by rail to rochester, new york. it has been a great pleasure to me to meet and know and serve with such men as crook and miles. i had served long enough on the plains to know indian fighters when i saw them, and i cannot close this chapter without a tribute to both of these men. miles had come to the west as a young man with a brilliant war record, having risen to a major-general of volunteers at the age, i think, of 26 or 27. he took naturally to indian fighting. he quickly divested himself of all the tactics that were useless in this particular kind of warfare, and learned as much about the indians as any man ever knew. years later, when i was giving my wild west show in madison square garden, general miles visited it as my guest. the indians came crowding around him, and followed him wherever he went, although other army officers of high reputation accompanied him on the visit. this indian escort at last proved to be almost embarrassing, for the general could not go to any part of the garden without four or five of the braves silently dogging his footsteps and drinking in his every word. when this was called to my attention i called one of the old men aside and asked him why he and his brothers followed miles so eagerly. "heap big chief!" was the reply. "him lickum injun chiefs. him biggest white chief. heap likum." which was really a very high tribute, as indians are not given to extravagant praise. when we have met from time to time general miles has been kind enough to speak well of me and the work i have done on the plains. i am very glad to have this opportunity of returning the compliment. crook was a man who lived and fought without any ostentation, but who had high courage and used rare judgment. the fact that he had command of the forces in the west had much to do with their successes in subduing the hostile red man. indeed, had not our army taught the indians that it was never safe, and usually extremely dangerous, to go on the warpath against the big white chief, organizations might have been formed which would have played sad havoc with our growing western civilization. i am and always have been a friend of the indian. i have always sympathized with him in his struggle to hold the country that was his by right of birth. but i have always held that in such a country as america the march of civilization was inevitable, and that sooner or later the men who lived in roving tribes, making no real use of the resources of the country, would be compelled to give way before the men who tilled the soil and used the lands as the creator intended they should be used. in my dealings with the indians we always understood each other. in a fight we did our best to kill each other. in times of peace we were friends. i could always do more with the indians than most white men, and i think my success in getting so many of them to travel with my organization was because i understood them and they understood me. shrewd as were the generals who conducted the fight against the indians, i believe they could have done little without the services of the men who all over the west served them in the capacity of scouts. the adventures of small scouting parties were at times even more thrilling than the battles between the indians and the troops. among the ablest of the scouts i worked with in the west were frank grouard and baptiste pourier. at one time in his childhood grouard was to all intents and purposes a sioux indian. he lived with the tribe, hunted and fought with them, and wore the breech-clout as his only summer garment. he met some hunters and trappers while living this life. their language recalled his childhood, and he presently deserted his red-skinned friends and came back to his own race. his knowledge of the tongues of the sioux, cheyenne, and crow indians and his marvelous proficiency in the universal sign language made him an extremely desirable acquisition to the service. grouard and "big bat" (baptiste pourier) were the two scouts that guided lieutenant sibley, a young officer of experience and ability, on a scout with about thirty officers and john finnerty of the chicago _times_, a newspaper man who was known all over the west. at eight o'clock at night they left their halting-place, big goose creek, and in the silent moonlight made a phantom promenade toward the little big horn. presently they made out the presence of a war party ahead of them, and one of the scouts of this outfit began riding around in a circle, which meant that the enemy had been discovered. there were too many indians to fight in the open, so grouard led the soldiers to a deep thicket where there were plenty of logs and fallen timber out of which to make breastworks. the indians repeatedly circled around them and often charged, but the white men, facing a massacre like that of custer's men, steadily held them at bay by accurate shooting. soon red reã«nforcements began to arrive. the indians, feeling that they had now a sufficient advantage, attempted another charge, as the result of which they lost white antelope, one of the bravest of their chiefs. this dampened their ardor, but they kept up an incessant firing that rattled against the log breastworks like hailstones. fearing that the indians would soon start a fire and burn them out, sibley ordered a retreat. the two scouts were left behind to keep up a desultory fire after night had fallen, in order to make the indians think the party was still in its breastworks. then the other men in single file struggled up the precipitous sides of the mountain above them, marching, stumbling, climbing, and falling according to the character of the ground they passed over. the men left behind finally followed on. the temperature fell below zero, and the night was one of suffering and horror. at last they gained a point in the mountains about twenty-five miles distant from crook's command. halting in a sheltered cave, they got a little sleep and started out just in time to escape observation by a large war-party which was scouting in their direction. at night the jaded party, more dead than alive, forded tongue river up to their armpits. two were so exhausted that it was not considered advisable to permit them to plunge into the icy stream, and they were left on the bank till help could be sent to them. those that got across dragged themselves over the trail to crook's camp. the rocks had broken their boots, and with bleeding feet and many a bullet wound they managed to get within sight of the camp, where two men of the second cavalry found them and brought them in. sibley's men threw themselves on the ground, too exhausted to go another step. hot food was brought them, and they soon were strong enough to go to camp cloud peak, to receive the hospitality and sympathy of their comrades. the two men who had been left behind were brought in and cared for. this expedition was one of the most perilous in the history of the plains, and the fact that there were any survivors is due to the skill, coolness, and courage of the two scouts, grouard and pourier. chapter x my work on the plains brought me many friends, among them being some of the truest and staunchest that any man ever had. you who live your lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. but on the plains one's friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle. and i found out that most of mine would as cheerfully risk their lives for me as they would give me a light for my pipe when i asked it. such a friend was old "buffalo chips," who certainly deserves a place in these memoirs of mine. one morning while i was sitting on my porch at north platte, playing with my children, i saw a man limping on crutches from the direction of the post hospital. he was a middle-aged man, but had long, flowing white hair, and the most deeply-pitted face i have ever beheld. noticing that he seemed confused and in trouble, i sent the children out to bring him to me. he came up haltingly, and in response to my questioning told me that he had been rejected by the hospital because he had been a confederate soldier and it was against their rules to accept any but union veterans. i turned the stranger over to my sister, who prepared a meal for him while i went over to the adjutant's office to see what could be done. i met general emory in the adjutant's office, and on my promise to pay the ex-confederate's bills, he gave me an order admitting him to the hospital. soon my new protã©gã©, who said his name was jim white, was duly installed, and receiving the treatment of which he stood in sore need. in a few weeks he had nearly recovered from the wound in his leg which had necessitated the use of his crutches. every day he came to my house to play with the children and to care for my horses, a service for which he gruffly refused to accept any pay. now and then he would borrow one of my rifles for a little practice. i soon discovered that he was a splendid shot, as well as an unusually fine horseman. my surprise at these accomplishments was somewhat lessened when he told me that he had spent his four years' war service as one of general j.e.b. stuart's scouts. stuart had no other kind of men in his command. for years, wherever i went, no matter how dangerous the errand, my new friend went along. the first time he followed me i still remember vividly. i had left the post on a five days' scout, and was particularly anxious that no one should know the direction i was to take. when i was four or five miles from the post i looked back and saw a solitary horseman riding in my direction about a mile in my rear. when i stopped he stopped. i rode on for a little way and looked around again. he was exactly the same distance behind me, and pulled his horse up when i halted. this maneuver i repeated several times, always with the same result. considerably disquieted by this mysterious pursuit, i decided to discover the reason for it. i whipped up my horse and when i had put a sandhill between myself and the man behind i made a quick detour through a ravine, and came up in his rear. then i boldly rode up till i came abreast of him. he swung around when he heard me coming, and blushed like a girl when he saw how i had tricked him. "look here, white," i demanded, "what the devil are you following me in this way for?" "mrs. cody said i could follow you if i wanted to," he said, "and, well, i just followed you, that's all." that was all he would say. but i knew that he had come along to keep me from getting hurt if i was attacked, and would rather die than admit his real reason. so i told him to come along, and come along he did. there was no need for his services on that occasion, but a little later he put me in debt to him for my life. he and i rode together into a border town, where there were a few gentlemen in the horse-stealing business who had reason to wish me moved along to some other sphere. i left white to look after the horses as we reached the town, and went into a hotel to get a nip, for which i felt a very great need. white noticed a couple of rough-looking chaps behind the barn as he put the horses away and quietly slipped to a window where he could overhear their conversation. "we'll go in while he is taking a drink," one of them was saying, "and shoot him from behind. he'll never have a chance." without a word to me, white hurried into the hotel and got behind the door. presently the two men entered, both with drawn revolvers. but before they could raise them white covered them with his own weapon and commanded them sternly to throw up their hands, an order with which they instantly complied after one look at his face. i wheeled at the order, and recognized his two captives as the men i was looking for, a pair of horse-thieves and murderers whom i had been sent to apprehend. my revolvers were put into instant requisition, and i kept them covered while white removed the guns with which they had expected to put me out of their way. with white's help i conducted these gentlemen forty miles back to the sheriff's office, and they walked every step of the way. each of them got ten years in the penitentiary as soon as they could be tried. they either forgave me or forgot me when they got out, for i never heard of either of them again. in the campaign of 1876 i secured employment for white as a scout. he was with me when terry and crook's commands separated on the yellowstone. by this time he had come to copy my gait, my dress, my speech, and even my fashion of wearing my hair down on my shoulders, though mine at that time was brown, and his was white as the driven snow. we were making a raid on an indian village, which was peopled with very lively and very belligerent savages. i had given white an old red-lined coat, one which i had worn conspicuously in a number of battles, and which the indians had marked as a special target on that account. a party of indians had been driven from among the lodges into a narrow gorge, and some of the soldiers, among them captain charles king, had gone after them. as they were proceeding cautiously, keeping tinder cover as much as possible, king observed white creeping along the opposite bluff, rifle in hand, looking for a chance at the savages huddled below, and hoping to distract their fire so they would do as little damage as possible to the soldiers who were closing in on them. white crawled along on all-fours till he reached a stunted tree on the brim of the ravine. there he halted, brought his rifle to his shoulder in readiness to aim and raised himself slowly to his feet. he was about to fire, when one of the indians in the hole below spotted the red-lined coat. there was a crack, a puff of smoke, and white toppled over, with a bullet through his heart. the coat had caught the attention of the savages, and thus i had been the innocent means of my friend's death; for, with the soldiers pressing them so hard, it is not likely that any of the warriors would have wasted a shot had they not thought they were getting pa-ho-has-ka. for a long time the indians believed that i would be a menace to them no more. but they discovered their mistake later, and i sent a good many of them to the happy hunting-grounds as a sort of tribute to my friend. poor old white! a more faithful man never took a trail, nor a braver. he was a credit to me, and to the name which general sheridan had first given him in derision, but which afterward became an honor, the name of "buffalo chips." when terry and crook's commands joined on the yellowstone both commands went into camp together and guards were placed to prevent surprise. the scene was typical of the old west, but it would astonish anyone whose whole idea of warfare has been gained by a visit to a modern military post or training camp, or the vast camps where the reserve forces are drilled and equipped for the great european war. generals crook, merritt, and carr were in rough hunting rigs, utterly without any mark of their rank. deerskin, buckskin, corduroy, canvas, and rags indiscriminately covered the rest of the command, so that unless you knew the men it was totally impossible to distinguish between officers and enlisted men. however, every one in the commands knew every one else, and there was no confusion. a great part of that night was spent in swapping stories of recent experiences. all of them were thrilling, even to veteran campaigners fresh from the trail. there was no need of drawing the long bow in those days. the truth was plenty exciting enough to suit the most exacting, and we sat about like schoolboys, drinking in each other's tales, and telling our own in exchange. a story of a personal adventure and a hairbreadth escape in which lieutenant de rudio figured was so typical of the fighting days of the west that i want my readers to know it. i shall tell it, as nearly as i can, just as it came to me around the flickering fire in that picturesque border camp. de rudio had just returned from his adventure, and he told it to us between puffs of his pipe so realistically that i caught several of my old friends of the plains peering about into the darkness as if to make sure that no lurking redskins were creeping up on them. in the fight of a few days before de rudio was guarding a pony crossing with eight men when one of them sang out: "lieutenant, get your horse, quick. reno (the commander of the outfit) is retreating!" no trumpet had sounded, however, and no orders had been given, so the lieutenant hesitated to retire. his men left in a hurry, but he remained, quietly waiting for the call. presently, looking behind him, he saw thirty or forty indians coming full gallop. he wheeled and started to get into safer quarters. as lie did so they cut loose with a volley. he leaned low on his horse as they shot, and the bullets sang harmlessly over his head. before him was a fringe of thick underbrush along the river, and into this he forced his unwilling horse. the bullets followed and clipped the twigs about him like scissors. at last he gained the creek, forded, and mounted the bank on the other side. here, instead of safety, he found hundreds of indians, all busily shooting at the soldiers, who were retreating discreetly in the face of a greatly superior force. he was entirely cut off from retreat, unless he chose to make a bold dash for his life right through the middle of the indians. this he was about to do, when a young indian, who had observed him, sent a shot after him, and his horse fell dead under him, rolling over and over, while he managed to scramble to his feet. the shot had attracted the attention of all the indians in that immediate neighborhood, and there were plenty of them there for all offensive purposes. de rudio jumped down the creek bank and hid in an excavation while a hail of bullets spattered the water ahead of him and raised a dozen little clouds of dust at his feet. so heavy had this volley been that the indians decided that the bullets had done their work, and a wild yell broke from them. suddenly the yell changed to another sort of outcry, and the firing abruptly ceased. peering out, de rudio saw captain benteen's column coming up over the hill. he began to hope that his rescue was at hand. but in a few minutes the soldiers disappeared and the indians all started off after them. just beyond the hill was the noise of a lively battle, and he made up his mind that reno's command had rallied, and that if he could join them he might be saved. working his way softly through the brush he was nearing the summit of the slope when he heard his name whispered and saw three of his own company in the brush. two of them were mounted. the horse of the third had been killed. the three men remained in the bushes, lying as low as they could and making no sound. looking out now and then, they could see an old indian woman going about, taking scalps and mutilating the bodies of the soldiers who had been slain. most of the warriors were occupied with the battle, but now and then a warrior, suspicious that soldiers were still lurking in the brush, would ride over in their direction and fire a few shots that whistled uncomfortably close to their heads. presently the firing on the hill ceased, and hundreds of indians came slowly back. but they were hard pressed by the soldiers, and the battle was soon resumed, to break out intermittently through the entire night. in a quiet interval the two soldiers got their horses, and with their companion and de rudio holding to the animals' tails forded the river and made a dã©tour round the indians. several times they passed close to indians. once or twice they were fired on and answered the fire, but their luck was with them and they escaped bringing a general attack down upon them. as they were making their way toward the edge of the clearing they saw directly before them a party of men dressed in the ragged uniforms of american cavalrymen, and all drew deep breaths of relief. help seemed now at hand. but just as they sprang forward to join their supposed comrades a fiendish yell broke from the horsemen. in another instant the four unfortunates were rushing to cover, with a dozen indians, all dressed in the clothing taken from dead soldiers, in hot pursuit. the indians had been planning a characteristic piece of sioux strategy. as fast as it could be accomplished they had been stripping the clothing from dead and wounded soldiers and garbing themselves in it with the purpose of deceiving the outposts of reno's command and surprising the americans as soon as day broke. had it not been for the accidental discovery of the ruse by de rudio's party it might have succeeded only too well. the lieutenant and his companions managed to get away safely and to find shelter in the woods. but the indians immediately fired the underbrush and drove them further and further on. then, just as they had begun to despair of their lives, their pursuers, who had been circling around the tangle of scrub growth, began singing a slow chant and withdrew to the summit of the hill. there they remained in council a little time and then cantered away single file. fearing another trap, the white men remained for weary hours in their hiding-place, but at last were compelled by thirst and hunger to come out. no indians were visible, nor did any appear as, worn out and dispirited, they dragged themselves to the camp of the soldiers. in the forty-eight hours since he had been cut off from his command de rudio had undergone all the horrors of indian warfare and a hundred times had given himself up for dead. bullets had passed many times within a few inches of him. half a dozen times only a lucky chance had intervened between him and the horrible death that indians know so well how to inflict. yet, save for the bruises from his fall off his horse, and the abrasions of the brush through which he had traveled, he had never received a scratch. chapter xi of all the indians i encountered in my years on the plains the most resourceful and intelligent, as well as the most dangerous, were the sioux. they had the courage of dare-devils combined with real strategy. they mastered the white man's tactics as soon as they had an opportunity to observe them. incidentally they supplied all thinking and observing white commanders with a great deal that was well worth learning in the art of warfare. the sioux fought to win, and in a desperate encounter were absolutely reckless of life. but they also fought wisely, and up to the minute of closing in they conserved their own lives with a vast amount of cleverness. the maxim put into words by the old confederate fox, forrest: "get there fastest with the mostest," was always a fighting principle with the sioux. they were a strong race of men, the braves tall, with finely shaped heads and handsome features. they had poise and dignity and a great deal of pride, and they seldom forgot either a friend or an enemy. the greatest of all the sioux in my time, or in any time for that matter, was that wonderful old fighting man, sitting bull, whose life will some day be written by a historian who can really give him his due. sitting bull it was who stirred the indians to the uprising whose climax was the massacre of the little big horn and the destruction of custer's command. for months before this uprising he had been going to and fro among the sioux and their allies urging a revolt against the encroaching white man. it was easy at that time for the indians to secure rifles. the canadian-french traders to the north were only too glad to trade them these weapons for the splendid supplies of furs which the indians had gathered. many of these rifles were of excellent construction, and on a number of occasions we discovered to our cost that they outranged the army carbines with which we were equipped. after the custer massacre the frontier became decidedly unsafe for sitting bull and the chiefs who were associated with him, and he quietly withdrew to canada, where he was for the time being safe from pursuit. there he stayed till his followers began leaving him and returning to their reservations in the united states. soon he had only a remnant of his followers and his immediate family to keep him company. warily he began negotiating for immunity, and when he was fully assured that if he would use his influence to quiet his people and keep them from the warpath his life would be spared, he consented to return. he had been lonely and unhappy in canada. an accomplished orator and a man with a gift of leadership, he had pined for audiences to sway and for men to do his bidding. he felt sure that these would be restored to him once he came back among his people. as to his pledges, i have no doubt that he fully intended to live up to them. he carried in his head all the treaties that had been made between his people and the white men, and could recite their minutest details, together with the dates of their making and the names of the men who had signed for both sides. but he was a stickler for the rights of his race, and he devoted far more thought to the trend of events than did most of his red brothers. here was his case, as he often presented it to me: "the white man has taken most of our land. he has paid us nothing for it. he has destroyed or driven away the game that was our meat. in 1868 he arranged to build through the indians' land a road on which ran iron horses that ate wood and breathed fire and smoke. we agreed. this road was only as wide as a man could stretch his arms. but the white man had taken from the indians the land for twenty miles on both sides of it. this land he had sold for money to people in the east. it was taken from the indians. but the indians got nothing for it. "the iron horse brought from the east men and women and children, who took the land from the indians and drove out the game. they built fires, and the fires spread and burned the prairie grass on which the buffalo fed. also it destroyed the pasturage for the ponies of the indians. soon the friends of the first white men came and took more land. then cities arose and always the white man's lands were extended and the indians pushed farther and farther away from the country that the great father had given them and that had always been theirs. "when treaties were broken and the indians trespassed on the rights of the white man, my chiefs and i were always here to adjust the white man's wrongs. "when treaties were broken and the indians' rights were infringed, no one could find the white chiefs. they were somewhere back toward the rising sun. there was no one to give us justice. new chiefs of the white men came to supplant the old chiefs. they knew nothing of our wrongs and laughed at us. "when the sioux left minnesota and went beyond the big muddy the white chiefs promised them they would never again be disturbed. then they followed us across the river, and when we asked for lands they gave us each a prairie chicken's flight four ways (a hundred and sixty acres); this they gave us, who once had all the land there was, and whose habit is to roam as far as a horse can carry us and then continue our journey till we have had our fill of wandering. "we are not as many as the white man. but we know that this land is our land. and while we live and can fight, we will fight for it. if the white man does not want us to fight, why does he take our land? if we come and build our lodges on the white man's land, the white man drives us away or kills us. have we not the same right as the white man?" the forfeiture of the black hills and unwise reduction of rations kept alive the indian discontent. when, in 1889, congress passed a law dividing the sioux reservation into many smaller ones so as to isolate the different tribes of the dakota nation a treaty was offered them. this provided payment for the ponies captured or destroyed in the war of 1876 and certain other concessions, in return for which the indians were to cede about half their land, or eleven million acres, which was to be opened up for settlement. the treaty was submitted to the indians for a vote. they came in from the woods and the plains to vote on it, and it was carried by a very narrow majority, many of the indians insisting that they had been coerced by their necessities into casting favorable ballots. congress delayed and postponed the fulfillment of the promised conditions, and the indian unrest increased as the months went by. even after the land had been taken over and settled up, congress did not pass the appropriation that was necessary before the indians could get their money. sitting bull was appealed to for aid, and once more began employing his powerful gift of oratory in the interest of armed resistance against the white man. just at this time a legend whose origin was beyond all power to fathom became current among the red men of the north. from one tribe to another spread the tidings that a messiah was to come back to earth to use his miraculous power in the interest of the indian. the whites were to be driven from the land of the red man. the old days of the west were to be restored. the ranges were to be re-stocked with elk, antelope, deer, and buffalo. soon a fever of fanaticism had infected every tribe. not alone were the sioux the victims of this amazing delusion, but every tribe on the continent shared in it. there was to be a universal brotherhood of red men. old enmities were forgotten. former foes became fast friends. the yaquis in mexico sent out word that they would be ready for the great armageddon when it came. as far north as alaska there were ghost dances and barbaric festivities to celebrate the coming restoration of the indian to the lands of his inheritance. and as the indians danced, they talked and sang and thought of war, while their hatred of the white man broke violently forth. very much disquieted at the news of what was going on the war department sent out word to stop the dancing and singing. stop it! you could as easily have stopped the eruption of mount lassen! among the other beliefs that spread among the indians was one that all the sick would be healed and be able to go into battle, and that young and old, squaws and braves alike, would be given shirts which would turn the soldiers' bullets like armor-plate. every redskin believed that he could not be injured. none of them had any fear of battle, or any suspicions that he could be injured in the course of the great holy war that was to come. chapter xii in november, 1890, i was returning from europe with my wild west company. when the new york pilot came aboard he brought a big packet of papers. that was before the days of wireless, and we had had no tidings of what was going on in the world since we had left the other side. as he came up the ladder he recognized me, and shouted: "colonel, there's a big indian war started! i guess you'll be needed out there." i seized the papers and eagerly read the details of the threatened outbreak. i was not surprised when, on arriving at quarantine, i was handed a telegram from general miles. i was requested to come to chicago as soon as possible, and to telegraph the time of my arrival. canceling all new york engagements, i caught the first train for the west, and in thirty-six hours reported to general miles in his headquarters. he briefly described to me what had been happening and went over with me the maps of the western states where the indians were getting ready for war. he said that it was his understanding that the bad lands of north dakota had been selected as the battle-ground by the indians, and asked me to give him all the information i possessed about that country and its accessibility for troops. miles was about to leave for the pine ridge agency, and take command of the campaign to put down the indians. i was thoroughly familiar with the bad lands, and spent an hour or more in discussing the coming campaign with the general. we both agreed that the indians had selected a particularly good country for their uprising, and an especially good season, as in winter, with the hills covered with snow, and blizzards of almost daily occurrence, it would be far harder to hunt them out than in summer, when the troops could travel easily. miles said that sitting bull had his camp somewhere within forty or fifty miles of the standing rock agency, and was haranguing the indians thereabout, spreading the messiah talk and getting them to join him. he asked me if i could go immediately to standing rock and fort yates, and thence to sitting bull's camp. he knew that i was an old friend of the chief, and he believed that if any one could induce the old fox to abandon his plans for a general war i could. if i could not dissuade him from the warpath the general was of the opinion that i might be able to delay him in taking it, so that troops could be sent into the country in time to prevent a horrible massacre of the defenseless white settlers, who were already in terror of their lives. i knew that this would be the most dangerous undertaking of my career. i was sure that if i could reach sitting bull he would at least listen to me. but in the present inflamed state of the indian mind it would be next to impossible to get to his camp alive. nevertheless i was quite ready to take the risk. i knew what fearful damage could be done by a sudden uprising of fanatical and infuriated indians, and any danger to me personally was as nothing to the importance of preventing such, a thing, if possible. having no standing as an army officer or as a government agent, it was necessary for me to be supplied with some sort of credentials, in order to secure the assistance i should need on my mission. when i informed general miles of this he took one of his visiting-cards from a case and wrote the following on the back of it: to commanding officers of united states troops: furnish colonel william f. cody with any assistance or escort that he may ask for. nelson a. miles. i took the next train for mandan, n.d., which was the station nearest the standing rock agency. there i hired a livery team and driver for the ride of sixty-five miles to the agency. i had considerable difficulty in securing a driver, as the report had gone abroad that all the indians were on the warpath, and few of the settlers cared to risk their scalps on such a venture. but i went higher and higher in my offers, till at last a liveryman figured that a hundred dollars was sufficient reward for the risk, and, hitching up his team, told me to come along. after an intensely cold drive we reached the agency, where i hurried into the trader's store to thaw out by his stove. i had hardly arrived before the trader came in and told me that major mclaughlin, the indian agent, wanted to see me. news travels very fast in the indian country, especially in war times. someone about the post who had seen me driving in had hurried to headquarters to inform the agent that buffalo bill had arrived by way of reã«nforcements. as soon as i got my chilled blood into circulation i went to the major's quarters, and informed him of the purpose of my visit. we were old friends, and he was very glad to see me, but he was much concerned on learning what i intended to do. "that is impossible!" he said. "the sioux are threatening a great war. at this very moment we do not know when the indians here at the agency may rise. we can take care of our own situation, for we have four troops of cavalry here, but we cannot permit you to go to sitting bull's camp. not only would you be killed before you got halfway there, but your presence in the country would precipitate hostilities for which we are not in the least prepared. i'm sorry, cody, but it can't be done." more fully to persuade me of the truth of what he said he took me to the quarters of colonel brown, the commander of the troops at the agency, and asked him to talk to me. brown listened to my statement of what i proposed and shook his head. "i've heard of you, cody, and of your nerve, but this is more than even you can do. sitting bull's camp is forty miles away, and the country between here and there is swarming with indians all ready to go on the warpath, and wholly beyond the sway of reason. i cannot permit you to make this attempt." "do you hear, cody?" said mclaughlin. "the only thing for you to do is to stay all night with us and then return to the railroad. even that will be risky enough, even for you." "but go you must," added brown. "the agency is under martial law, and i cannot permit you to remain any longer than tomorrow morning." there was no arguing with these men. so i resorted to my credentials. taking general miles's card from my pocket, i laid it before colonel brown. "what does this mean?" he demanded, and passed the card to mclaughlin. "it looks like orders," said mclaughlin. "yes," said brown, "and i can't disobey them." just then captain fatchett, an old friend of mine, came into the quarters, and brown turned me over to him for entertainment until i should formulate my plans for my visit to sitting bull. i had never served with the eighth cavalry to which the companies at the post belonged, but i had many friends among the officers, and spent a very pleasant afternoon and evening talking over old times, and getting information about the present situation. after guard-mount the next morning i told colonel brown that i did not think i would require an escort for my visit, as the presence of a number of armed men in the indian country would be sure to start the trouble it was our purpose to avoid, or to delay as long as possible. the man who had driven me over was anxious to return at once, so i asked for a light spring-wagon and a team of mules. "wait an hour or two," said the colonel, "and i'll send the quartermaster to you." i waited, and he employed the time, as i afterward learned, in telegraphing to general miles, to the commissioner of indian affairs, to the secretary of the interior, and to president harrison. he informed all of them that i was there, insisting on going to sitting bull's camp, and that such an errand would not only result in my death, but would precipitate the outbreak then brewing, and for which he was not at all prepared. he besought all of them to instruct me to return to mandan. while he waited for replies to his dispatches i hunted about the camp for someone who knew just where sitting bull was located and how to get there. i also wanted a first-class interpreter, as i would have matters to discuss with sitting bull beyond his mastery of english or mine of sioux to express. at last i found a man who agreed to go with me as guide for five hundred dollars, which i promised him without a protest. then i went over to the post-trader's store and bought all manner of presents which i knew would be acceptable to sitting bull, his squaw, and his children. when i returned to colonel brown's quarters he endeavored once more to put me off. but i would not be put off. i informed him that i had explicit orders from general miles as to my mission, and that if he interfered with me he was violating the orders of his commanding officer and running into very serious trouble. at last he reluctantly sent for the quartermaster, and ordered him to have a span of good mules hitched to a light spring-wagon. the wagon was driven to the post-trader's store, where i found my guide and interpreter, and loaded aboard the presents i had bought for the old warrior. with plenty of robes to keep out the intense cold, we started out on our journey, a little apprehensive, but fully determined to go through with it. five or six miles from the post we met three men in a wagon driving toward the agency. they told us that sitting bull's camp had been lately moved, and that it was now further down the river. i knew that if the old man was really on the warpath he would be moving up the river, not down, so i felt considerably reassured. when we had proceeded a few miles further we heard a yell behind us, and, looking back, saw a rider approaching at full speed. this proved to be one of major mclaughlin's indian scouts. he bore a telegram reading: colonel william f. cody, fort yates, n.d.: the order for the detention of sitting bull has been rescinded. you are hereby ordered to return to chicago and report to general miles. benjamin harrison, president. that ended my mission to sitting bull. i still believe i could have got safely through the country, though there were plenty of chances that i would be killed or wounded in the attempt. i returned to the post, turned back my presents at a loss to myself, and paid the interpreter fifty dollars for his day's work. he was very glad to have the fifty and a whole skin, for he could not figure how the five hundred would be of much help to him if he had been stretched out on the plains with an indian bullet through him. i was supplied with conveyance back to mandan by colonel brown and took my departure the next morning. afterward, in indianapolis, president harrison informed me that he had allowed himself to be persuaded against my mission in opposition to his own judgment, and said he was very sorry that he had not allowed me to proceed. it developed afterward that the people who had moved the president to interfere consisted of a party of philanthropists who advanced the argument that my visit would precipitate a war in which sitting bull would be killed, and it was to spare the life of this man that i was stopped! the result of the president's order was that the ghost dance war followed very shortly, and with it came the death of sitting bull. i found that general miles knew exactly why i had been turned back from my trip to sitting bull. but he was a soldier, and made no criticism of the order of a superior. general miles was glad to hear that i had been made a brigadier-general, but he was still more pleased with the fact that i knew so many indians at the agency. "you can get around among them," he said, "and learn their intentions better than any other man i know." i remained with general miles until the final surrender of the north american indians to the united states government after three hundred years of warfare. this surrender was made to miles, then lieutenant-general of the army, and it was eminently fitting that a man who had so ably conducted the fight of the white race against them and had dealt with them so justly and honorably should have received their surrender. with that event ended one of the most picturesque phases of western life--indian fighting. it was with that that i was identified from my youth to my middle age, and in the time i spent on the plains, indian warfare reached its greatest severity and its highest development. chapter xiii in the preceding chapters i have sketched briefly some of the most interesting of my adventures on the plains. it has been necessary to omit much that i would like to have told. for twenty years my life was one of almost continuous excitement, and to tell the whole story would require many volumes. it was because of my great interest in the west, and my belief that its development would be assisted by the interest i could awaken in others, that i decided to bring the west to the east through the medium of the wild west show. how greatly i was to succeed in this venture i had no idea when it first occurred to me. as i have told you, i had already appeared in a small western show, and was the first man to bring indians to the east and exhibit them. but the theater was too small to give any real impression of what western life was like. only in an arena where horses could be ridden at full gallop, where lassos could be thrown, and pistols and guns fired without frightening the audience half to death, could such a thing be attempted. after getting together a remarkable collection of indians, cowboys, indian ponies, stage-coach drivers, and other typical denizens of my own country under canvas i found myself almost immediately prosperous. we showed in the principal cities of the country, and everywhere the novelty of the exhibition drew great crowds. as owner and principal actor in the enterprise i met the leading citizens of the united states socially, and never lost an opportunity to "talk up" the western country, which i believed to have a wonderful future. i worked hard on the program of the entertainment, taking care to make it realistic in every detail. the wigwam village, the indian war-dance, the chant of the great spirit as it was sung on the plains, the rise and fall of the famous tribes, were all pictured accurately. it was not an easy thing to do. sometimes i had to send men on journeys of more than a hundred miles to get the right kind of war-bonnets, or to make correct copies of the tepees peculiar to a particular tribe. it was my effort, in depicting the west, to depict it as it was. i was much gratified in after years to find that scientists who had carefully studied the indians, their traditions and habits, gave me credit for making very valuable contributions to the sum of human knowledge of the american native. the first presentation of my show was given in may, 1883, at omaha, which i had then chosen as my home. from there we made our first summer tour, visiting practically every important city in the country. for my grand entrance i made a spectacle which comprised the most picturesque features of western life. sioux, arapahoes, brulã©s, and cheyennes in war-paint and feathers led the van, shrieking their war-whoops and waving the weapons with which they were armed in a manner to inspire both terror and admiration in the tenderfoot audience. next came cowboys and soldiers, all clad exactly as they were when engaged in their campaigns against the indians, and lumbering along in the rear were the old stage-coaches which carried the settlers to the west in the days before the railroad made the journey easy and pleasant. i am sure the people enjoyed this spectacle, for they flocked in crowds to see it. i know i enjoyed it. there was never a day when, looking back over the red and white men in my cavalcade, i did not know the thrill of the trail, and feel a little sorry that my western adventures would thereafter have to be lived in spectacles. without desiring to dim the glory of any individual i can truthfully state that the expression "rough riders," which afterward became so famous, was my own coinage. as i rode out at the front of my parade i would bow to the audience, circled about on the circus benches, and shout at the top of my voice: "ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce you to the rough riders of the world!" for three years we toured the united states with great success. one day an englishman, whose name i never learned, came to see me after the show. "that is a wonderful performance," he told me. "here in america it meets with great appreciation, but you have no idea what a sensation it would be in the old world, where such things are unheard of." that set me to thinking. in a few days, after spending hours together considering the matter, i had made up my mind that europe should have an opportunity to study america as nearly at first-hand as possible through the medium of my entertainment. details were soon arranged. in march, 1886, i chartered the steamer _state of nebraska_, loaded my indians, cowboys, horses, and stage-coaches on board, and set sail for another continent. it was a strange voyage. the indians had never been to sea before, and had never dreamed that such an expanse of water existed on the planet. they would stand at the rail, after the first days of seasickness were over, gazing out across the waves, and trying to descry something that looked like land, or a tree, or anything that seemed familiar and like home. then they would shake their heads disconsolately and go below, to brood and muse and be an extremely unhappy and forlorn lot of savages. the joy that seized them when at last they came in sight of land, and were assured that we did not intend to keep on sailing till we fell over the edge of the earth, was something worth looking at. at gravesend we sighted a tug flying the american colors, and when the band on board responded to our cheers with "the star-spangled banner" even the indians tried to sing. our band replied with "yankee doodle," and as we moved toward port there was more noise on board than i had ever heard in any battle on the plains. when the landing was made the members of the party were sent in special coaches to london. crowds stared at us from every station. the guards on the train were a little afraid of the solemn and surly-looking indians, but they were a friendly and jovial crowd, and when they had recovered from their own fright at the strange surroundings they were soon on good terms with the britishers. major john m. burke, who was my lifetime associate in the show business, had made all arrangements for housing the big troupe. we went to work at our leisure with our preparations to astonish the british public, and succeeded beyond our wildest dreams. the big london amphitheater, a third of a mile in circumference, was just the place for such an exhibition. the artist's brush was employed on lavish scale to reproduce the scenery of the western plains. i was busy for many days with preparations, and when our spectacle was finally given it was received with such a burst of enthusiasm as i had never witnessed anywhere. the show began, after the grand entry, with the hour of dawn on the plains. wild animals were scattered about. within their tents were the indians sleeping. as the dawn deepened the indians came out of their tents and went through one of their solemn and impressive war-dances. while this was going on the british audience held its breath. you could have heard a whisper in almost any part of the arena. then in came a courier to announce the neighborhood of a hostile tribe. instantly there was a wild scramble for mounts and weapons. the enemy rushed in, and for ten minutes there was a sham battle which filled the place with noise and confusion. this battle was copied as exactly as it could be copied from one of the scrimmages in which i had taken part in my first days as a scout. then we gave them a buffalo hunt, in which i had a hand, and did a little fancy shooting. as a finish there was a wild western cyclone, and a whole indian village was blown out of existence for the delectation of the english audience. the initial performance was given before the prince and princess of wales, afterward king edward and his queen, and their suite. at the close of the program the prince and princess, at their own request, were introduced to all the leading members of the company, including many of the indians. when the cowgirls of the show were presented to the princess they stepped forward and offered their hands, which were taken and well shaken in true democratic fashion. red shirt, the most important chief in the outfit, was highly pleased when he learned that a princess was to visit him in his camp. he had the indian gift of oratory, and he replied to her greeting with a long and eloquent speech, in which his gestures, if not his words, expressed plainly the honor he felt in receiving so distinguished a lady. the fact that he referred to alexandria as a squaw did not seem to mar her enjoyment. that the prince was really pleased with the exhibition was shown by the fact that he made an immediate report of it to his mother. shortly thereafter i received a command from queen victoria to appear before her. this troubled me a good deal--not that i was not more than eager to obey this flattering command, but that i was totally at a loss how to take my show to any of the great residences occupied by her majesty. finally, after many cautious inquiries, i discovered that she would be willing to visit the show if a special box was prepared for her. this we did to the best of our ability. the box was placed upon a dais covered with crimson velvet and handsomely decorated. when the queen arrived i met her at the door of the box, with my sombrero in my hand and welcomed her to "the wild west of america." one of the first acts in the performance was to carry the flag to the front. this was done by a soldier. walking around the arena, he offered the stars and stripes as an emblem of the friendship of america to all the world. on this occasion he carried the flag directly to the royal box, and dipped it three times before the queen. absolute silence fell over the great throng. then the queen rose and saluted the flag with a bow, her suite following her example. there was a wild cheer from everyone in the show, indians included, and soon all the audience was on its feet, cheering and waving flags and handkerchiefs. this gave us a fine start and we never put on a better performance. when it was all over her majesty sent for me, and paid me many compliments as well as to my country and the west. i found her a most gracious and charming woman, with none of the haughtiness which i had supposed was inseparable from a person of such exalted rank. my subsequent experiences with royalty convinced me that there is more real democracy among the rulers of the countries of europe than you will find among the petty officials of a village. it was interesting to watch old red shirt when he was presented to the queen. he clearly felt that this was a ceremony between one ruler and another, and the dignity with which he went through the introduction was wonderful to behold. one would have thought to watch him that most of his life was spent in introductions to kings and queens, and that he was really a little bored with the effort required to go through with them. a second command from the queen resulted in an exhibition before a number of her royal guests, including the kings of saxony, denmark, and greece, the queen of the belgians, and the crown prince of austria. the deadwood coach, one of the features of the show, was of particular interest to my royal guests. this was a coach with a history. it was built in concord, n.h., and sent by water to san francisco to run over a route infested with road-agents. a number of times it was held up and robbed. finally, both driver and passengers were killed and the coach abandoned on the trail. it remained for a long time a derelict, but was afterward brought into san francisco by an old stage-driver and placed on the overland trail. as it worked its way east over the overland route its old luck held steadily. again were driver and passengers massacred; again it was abandoned. at last, when it was "hoodooed" all over the west and no independent driver or company would have anything to do with it i discovered it, bought it, and used it for my show. one of the incidents of my program, as all who have seen it will remember, was an indian attack on this coach. the royal visitors wanted a real taste of western life--insisted on it, in fact, and the kings of denmark, greece, saxony, and the crown prince of austria climbed to the box with me. i had secretly instructed the indians to throw a little real energy into their pursuit of the coach, and they followed my instructions rather more completely than i expected. the coach was surrounded by a demoniac band of shooting and shouting indians. blank cartridges were discharged at perilously close proximity to the rulers of four great nations. looking around to quiet my followers, i saw that the guests of the occasion were a trifle pale, but they were all of them game, and came out of the affair far less scared than were the absolutely terrified members of the royal suites, who sat in their boxes and wrung their hands in wild alarm. in recognition of this performance the prince of wales sent me a souvenir consisting of a feathered crest, outlined in diamonds, with the words "ich dien" worked in jewels underneath. a note in the prince's own hand expressed the pleasure of his guests in the entertainment i had provided for them. after a tour of the principal cities we returned to america, proud of our success, and well rewarded in purse for our effort. the welcome to america was almost as elaborate as that from england. i quote from the description of it printed in the new york _world_: the harbor probably has never witnessed a more picturesque scene than that of yesterday, when the _persian monarch_ steamed up from quarantine. buffalo bill stood on the captain's bridge, his tall and striking figure clearly outlined, and his long hair waving in the wind; the gaily painted and blanketed indians leaned over the ship's rail; the flags of all nations fluttered from the masts and connecting cables. the cowboy band played "yankee doodle" with a vim and enthusiasm which faintly indicated the joy felt by everybody connected with the "wild west" over the sight of home. shortly after my arrival i was much pleased by the receipt of the following letter: fifth avenue hotel, new york. colonel wm. f. cody: _dear sir_--in common with all your countrymen, i want to let you know that i am not only gratified but proud of your management and success. so far as i can make out, you have been modest, graceful, and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the history of civilization on this continent during the past century. i am especially pleased with the compliment paid you by the prince of wales, who rode with you in the deadwood coach while it was attacked by indians and rescued by cowboys. such things did occur in our days, but they never will again. as nearly as i can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine and one-half million of buffaloes on the plains between the missouri river and the rocky mountains; all are now gone, killed for their meat, their skins, and their bones. this seems like desecration, cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice as many cattle. at that date there were about 165,000 pawnees, sioux, cheyennes, and arapahoes, who depended upon these buffaloes for their yearly food. they, too, have gone, but they have been replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, who have made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can be counted, taxed, and governed by the laws of nature and civilization. this change has been salutary, and will go on to the end. you have caught one epoch of this country's history, and have illustrated it in the very heart of the modern world--london--and i want you to feel that on this side of the water we appreciate it. this drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; even the drama of civilization must have an end. all i aim to accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that i fully recognize your work. the presence of the queen, the beautiful princess of wales, the prince, and the british public are marks of favor which reflect back on america sparks of light which illuminate many a house and cabin in the land where once you guided me honestly and faithfully, in 1865-66, from fort riley to kearney, in kansas and nebraska. sincerely your friend, w.t. sherman. our next descent on europe was made in the steamer _persian monarch_, which was again chartered. this time our destination was france. the parisians received the show with as much favor as had the londoners. everything american became the fad during our stay. fashionable young men bought american and mexican saddles for their rides in the bois. cowboy hats appeared everywhere on the street. there was a great cry for stories of the plains and all the books that could be found that dealt with the west were translated into the french language. relics from the plains and mountains, bows, moccasins, and indian baskets, sold like hot cakes in the souvenir stores. while in the city i accepted an invitation from rosa bonheur to visit her at her superb chã¢teau. in return i extended her the freedom of the show, and she made many studies from life of the fine animals i had brought over with me. she also painted a portrait of me on my favorite horse--a picture which i immediately sent home to my wife. our sojourn in rome was lively with incident. the prince of simonetta, who visited the show, declared that he had some wild horses in his stable which no cowboy could ride. the challenge was promptly taken up by some of the dare-devils in my party. that the horses might not run amuck and injure anyone, special booths were erected in the show arena, where the trial was to be made. the greatest enthusiasm was manifested by the romans in the performance, and it was clear to me that most of them looked eagerly forward to the mortal injury of some of the members of my company. the latin delight in sports like those of the old roman arena had by no means died out. when the horses were loosed in the ring they sprang into the air, snorted, kicked up their heels, and plainly defied any of the cowboys to do so much as to lay a hand on them. but in less time than i can tell it the plainsmen had sent their lassos hurtling through the air, and the horses discovered that they had met their masters. the audience, always strong for the winners, forgot their disappointment in the absence of fatalities, and howled with delight as the cowboys, one after another, mounted the fractious horses and trotted them submissively about the arena. we closed this tour of europe, which was successful to the end, with a second visit to england. i have now come to the end of my story. it is a story of "the great west that was," a west that is gone forever. all my interests are still with the west--the modern west. i have a number of homes there, the one i love best being in the wonderful big horn valley, which i hope one day to see one of the garden spots of the world. in concluding, i want to express the hope that the dealings of this government of ours with the indians will always be just and fair. they were the inheritors of the land that we live in. they were not capable of developing it, or of really appreciating its possibilities, but they owned it when the white man came, and the white man took it away from them. it was natural that they should resist. it was natural that they employed the only means of warfare known to them against those whom they regarded as usurpers. it was our business, as scouts, to be continually on the warpath against them when they committed depredations. but no scout ever hated the indians in general. there have been times when the government policy toward the indians has been unwise and unjust. that time, i trust, has passed forever. there are still many thousand indians in the country, most of them engaged in agricultural pursuits. indian blood has added a certain rugged strength to the characters of many of our western citizens. at least two united states senators are part indian, and proud of it. the indian makes a good citizen, a good farmer, a good soldier. he is a real american, and all those of us who have come to share with him the great land that was his heritage should do their share toward seeing that he is dealt with justly and fairly, and that his rights and liberties are never infringed by the scheming politician or the short-sighted administration of law. the end last of the great scouts the life story of william f. cody ["buffalo bill"] by helen cody wetmore last of the great scouts the life story of col. william f. cody "buffalo bill" as told by his sister helen cody wetmore to the memory of a mother whose christian character still lives a hallowed influence genealogy of buffalo bill. the following genealogical sketch was compiled in 1897. the crest is copied from john rooney's "genealogical history of irish families." it is not generally known that genuine royal blood courses in colonel cody's veins. he is a lineal descendant of milesius, king of spain, that famous monarch whose three sons, heber, heremon, and ir, founded the first dynasty in ireland, about the beginning of the christian era. the cody family comes through the line of heremon. the original name was tireach, which signifies "the rocks." muiredach tireach, one of the first of this line, and son of fiacha straivetine, was crowned king of ireland, anno domini 320. another of the line became king of connaught, anno domini 701. the possessions of the sept were located in the present counties of clare, galway, and mayo. the names connaught-gallway, after centuries, gradually contracted to connallway, connellway, connelly, conly, cory, coddy, coidy, and cody, and is clearly shown by ancient indentures still traceable among existing records. on the maternal side, colonel cody can, without difficulty, follow his lineage to the best blood of england. several of the cody family emigrated to america in 1747, settling in maryland, pennsylvania, and virginia. the name is frequently mentioned in revolutionary history. colonel cody is a member of the cody family of revolutionary fame. like the other spanish-irish families, the codys have their proof of ancestry in the form of a crest, the one which colonel cody is entitled to use being printed herewith. the lion signifies spanish origin. it is the same figure that forms a part of the royal coat-of-arms of spain to this day--castile and leon. the arm and cross denote that the descent is through the line of heremon, whose posterity were among the first to follow the cross, as a symbol of their adherence to the christian faith. preface. in presenting this volume to the public the writer has a twofold purpose. for a number of years there has been an increasing demand for an authentic biography of "buffalo bill," and in response, many books of varying value have been submitted; yet no one of them has borne the hall-mark of veracious history. naturally, there were incidents in colonel cody's life--more especially in the earlier years--that could be given only by those with whom he had grown up from childhood. for many incidents of his later life i am indebted to his own and others' accounts. i desire to acknowledge obligation to general p. h. sheridan, colonel inman, colonel ingraham, and my brother for valuable assistance furnished by sheridan's memoirs, "the santa fe trail," "the great salt lake trail," "buffalo bill's autobiography," and "stories from the life of buffalo bill." a second reason that prompted the writing of my brother's life-story is purely personal. the sobriquet of "buffalo bill" has conveyed to many people an impression of his personality that is far removed from the facts. they have pictured in fancy a rough frontier character, without tenderness and true nobility. but in very truth has the poet sung: "the bravest are the tenderest- the loving are the daring." the public knows my brother as boy indian-slayer, a champion buffalo-hunter, a brave soldier, a daring scout, an intrepid frontiersman, and a famous exhibitor. it is only fair to him that a glimpse be given of the parts he played behind the scenes--devotion to a widowed mother, that pushed the boy so early upon a stage of ceaseless action, continued care and tenderness displayed in later years, and the generous thoughtfulness of manhood's prime. thus a part of my pleasant task has been to enable the public to see my brother through his sister's eyes--eyes that have seen truly if kindly. if i have been tempted into praise where simple narrative might to the reader seem all that was required, if i have seemed to exaggerate in any of my history's details, i may say that i am not conscious of having set down more than "a plain, unvarnished tale." embarrassed with riches of fact, i have had no thought of fiction. h. c. w. codyview, duluth, minnesota, february 26, 1899. last of the great scouts. chapter i. -the old homestead in iowa. a pleasant, roomy farm-house, set in the sunlight against a background of cool, green wood and mottled meadow--this is the picture that my earliest memories frame for me. to this home my parents, isaac and mary cody, had moved soon after their marriage. the place was known as the scott farm, and was situated in scott county, iowa, near the historic little town of le clair, where, but a few years before, a village of the fox indians had been located; where black hawk and his thousand warriors had assembled for their last war-dance; where the marquee of general scott was erected, and the treaty with the sacs and foxes drawn up; and where, in obedience to the sac chief's terms, antoine le clair, the famous half-breed indian scholar and interpreter, had built his cabin, and given to the place his name. here, in this atmosphere of pioneer struggle and indian warfare--in the farm-house in the dancing sunshine, with the background of wood and meadow--my brother, william frederick cody, was born, on the 26th day of february, 1846. of the good, old-fashioned sort was our family, numbering five daughters and two sons--martha, samuel, julia, william, eliza, helen, and may. samuel, a lad of unusual beauty of face and nature, was killed through an unhappy accident before he was yet fourteen. he was riding "betsy baker," a mare well known among old settlers in iowa as one of speed and pedigree, yet displaying at times a most malevolent temper, accompanied by will, who, though only seven years of age, yet sat his pony with the ease and grace that distinguished the veteran rider of the future. presently betsy baker became fractious, and sought to throw her rider. in vain did she rear and plunge; he kept his saddle. then, seemingly, she gave up the fight, and samuel cried, in boyish exultation: "ah, betsy baker, you didn't quite come it that time!" his last words! as if she knew her rider was a careless victor off his guard, the mare reared suddenly and flung herself upon her back, crushing the daring boy beneath her. though to us younger children our brother samuel was but a shadowy memory, in him had centered our parents' fondest hopes and aims. these, naturally, were transferred to the younger, now the only son, and the hope that mother, especially, held for him was strangely stimulated by the remembrance of the mystic divination of a soothsayer in the years agone. my mother was a woman of too much intelligence and force of character to nourish an average superstition; but prophecies fulfilled will temper, though they may not shake, the smiling unbelief of the most hard-headed skeptic. mother's moderate skepticism was not proof against the strange fulfillment of one prophecy, which fell out in this wise: to a southern city, which my mother visited when a girl, there came a celebrated fortune-teller, and led by curiosity, my mother and my aunt one day made two of the crowd that thronged the sibyl's drawing-rooms. both received with laughing incredulity the prophecy that my aunt and the two children with her would be dead in a fortnight; but the dread augury was fulfilled to the letter. all three were stricken with yellow fever, and died within less than the time set. this startling confirmation of the soothsayer's divining powers not unnaturally affected my mother's belief in that part of the prophecy relating to herself that "she would meet her future husband on the steamboat by which she expected to return home; that she would be married to him in a year, and bear three sons, of whom only the second would live, but that the name of this son would be known all over the world, and would one day be that of the president of the united states." the first part of this prophecy was verified, and samuel's death was another link in the curious chain of circumstances. was it, then, strange that mother looked with unusual hope upon her second son? that 'tis good fortune for a boy to be only brother to five sisters is open to question. the older girls petted will; the younger regarded him as a superior being; while to all it seemed so fit and proper that the promise of the stars concerning his future should be fulfilled that never for a moment did we weaken in our belief that great things were in store for our only brother. we looked for the prophecy's complete fulfillment, and with childish veneration regarded will as one destined to sit in the executive's chair. my mother, always somewhat delicate, was so affected in health by the shock of samuel's death that a change of scene was advised. the california gold craze was then at its height, and father caught the fever, though in a mild form; for he had prospered as a farmer, and we not only had a comfortable home, but were in easy circumstances. influenced in part by a desire to improve mother's health, and in part, no doubt, by the golden day-dreams that lured so many argonauts pacificward, he disposed of his farm, and bade us prepare for a western journey. before his plans were completed he fell in with certain disappointed gold-seekers returning from the coast, and impressed by their representations, decided in favor of kansas instead of california. father had very extravagant ideas regarding vehicles and horses, and such a passion for equestrian display, that we often found ourselves with a stable full of thoroughbreds and an empty cupboard. for our western migration we had, in addition to three prairie-schooners, a large family carriage, drawn by a span of fine horses in silver-mounted harness. this carriage had been made to order in the east, upholstered in the finest leather, polished and varnished as though for a royal progress. mother and we girls found it more comfortable riding than the springless prairie-schooners. brother will constituted himself an armed escort, and rode proudly alongside on his pony, his gun slung across the pommel of his saddle, and the dog turk bringing up the rear. to him this western trip thrilled with possible indian skirmishes and other stirring adventures, though of the real dangers that lay in our path he did not dream. for him, therefore, the first week of our travels held no great interest, for we were constantly chancing upon settlers and farm-houses, in which the night might be passed; but with every mile the settlers grew fewer and farther between; until one day will whispered to us, in great glee: "i heard father tell mother that he expected we should have to camp to-night. now we'll have some fun!" will's hope was well founded. shortly before nightfall we reached a stream that demanded a ferry-boat for its crossing, and as the nearest dwelling was a dozen miles away, it was decided that we should camp by the stream-side. the family was first sent across the ferry, and upon the eight-year-old lad of the house father placed the responsibility of selecting the ground on which to pitch the tents. my brother's career forcibly illustrates the fact that environment plays as large a part as heredity in shaping character. perhaps his love for the free life of the plains is a heritage derived from some long-gone ancestor; but there can be no doubt that to the earlier experiences of which i am writing he owed his ability as a scout. the faculty for obtaining water, striking trails, and finding desirable camping-grounds in him seemed almost instinct. the tents being pitched upon a satisfactory site, will called to turk, the dog, and rifle in hand, set forth in search of game for supper. he was successful beyond his fondest hopes. he had looked only for small game, but scarcely had he put the camp behind him when turk gave a signaling yelp, and out of the bushes bounded a magnificent deer. nearly every hunter will confess to "buck fever" at sight of his first deer, so it is not strange that a boy of will's age should have stood immovable, staring dazedly at the graceful animal until it vanished from sight. turk gave chase, but soon trotted back, and barked reproachfully at his young master. but will presently had an opportunity to recover turk's good opinion, for the dog, after darting away, with another signaling yelp fetched another fine stag within gun range. this time the young hunter, mastering his nerves, took aim with steady hand, and brought down his first deer. on the following sabbath we were encamped by another deep, swift-running stream. after being wearied and overheated by a rabbit chase, turk attempted to swim across this little river, but was chilled, and would have perished had not will rushed to the rescue. the ferryman saw the boy struggling with the dog in the water, and started after him with his boat. but will reached the bank without assistance. "i've hearn of dogs saving children, but this is the first time i ever hearn of a child saving a dog from drowning," ejaculated the ferryman. "how old be you?" "eight, going on nine," answered will. "you're a big boy for your age," said the man. "but it's a wonder you didn't sink with that load; he's a big old fellow," referring to turk, who, standing on three feet, was vigorously shaking the water from his coat. will at once knelt down beside him, and taking the uplifted foot in his hands, remarked: "he must have sprained one of his legs when he fell over that log; he doesn't whine like your common curs when they get hurt." "he's blooded stock, then," said the man. "what kind of dog do you call him?" "he's an ulm dog," said will. "i never heard tell of that kind of dog before." "did you ever hear of a tiger-mastiff, german mastiff, boar-hound, great dane? turk's all of them together." "well," said the ferryman, "you're a pretty smart little fellow, and got lots of grit. you ought to make your mark in the world. but right now you had better get into some dry clothes." and on the invitation of the ferryman, will and the limping dog got into the boat, and were taken back to camp. turk played so conspicuous and important a part in our early lives that he deserves a brief description. he was a large and powerful animal of the breed of dogs anciently used in germany in hunting the wild boars. later the dogs were imported into england, where they were particularly valued by people desiring a strong, brave watch-dog. when specially trained, they are more fierce and active than the english mastiff. naturally they are not as fond of the water as the spaniel, the stag-hound, or the newfoundland, though they are the king of dogs on land. not alone will, but the rest of the family, regarded turk as the best of his kind, and he well deserved the veneration he inspired. his fidelity and almost human intelligence were time and again the means of saving life and property; ever faithful, loyal, and ready to lay down his life, if need be, in our service. outlaws and desperadoes were always to be met with on western trails in those rugged days, and more than once turk's constant vigilance warned father in time to prevent attacks from suspicious night prowlers. the attachment which had grown up between turk and his young master was but the natural love of boys for their dogs intensified. will at that time estimated dogs as in later years he did men, the qualities which he found to admire in turk being vigilance, strength, courage, and constancy. with men, as with dogs, he is not lavishly demonstrative; rarely pats them on the back. but deeds of merit do not escape his notice or want his appreciation. the patience, unselfishness, and true nobility observed in this faithful canine friend of his boyhood days have many times proved to be lacking in creatures endowed with a soul; yet he has never lost faith in mankind, or in the ultimate destiny of his race. this i conceive to be a characteristic of all great men. this trip was memorable for all of us, perhaps especially so for brother will, for it comprehended not only his first deer, but his first negro. as we drew near the missouri line we came upon a comfortable farm-house, at which father made inquiry concerning a lodging for the night. a widow lived there, and the information that father was brother to elijah cody, of platte county, missouri, won us a cordial welcome and the hospitality of her home. we were yet in the road, waiting father's report, when our startled vision and childish imagination took in a seeming apparition, which glided from the bushes by the wayside. it proved a full-blooded african, with thick lips, woolly hair, enormous feet, and scant attire. to all except mother this was a new revelation of humanity, and we stared in wild-eyed wonder; even turk was surprised into silence. at this point father rejoined us, to share in mother's amusement, and to break the spell for us by pleasantly addressing the negro, who returned a respectful answer, accompanied by an ample grin. he was a slave on the widow's plantation. reassured by the grin, will offered his hand, and tasted the joy of being addressed as "massa" in the talk that followed. it was with difficulty that we prevailed upon "masse" to come to supper. after a refreshing night's sleep we went on our way, and in a few days reached my uncle's home. a rest was welcome, as the journey had been long and toilsome, despite the fact that it had been enlivened by many interesting incidents, and was thoroughly enjoyed by all of the family. chapter ii. -will's first indian. my uncle's home was in weston, platte county, missouri, at that time the large city of the west. as father desired to get settled again as soon as possible, he left us at weston, and crossed the missouri river on a prospecting tour, accompanied by will and a guide. more than one day went by in the quest for a desirable location, and one morning will, wearied in the reconnoissance, was left asleep at the night's camping-place, while father and the guide rode away for the day's exploring. when will opened his eyes they fell upon the most interesting object that the world just then could offer him--an indian! the "noble red man," as he has been poetically termed by people who have but known him from afar, was in the act of mounting will's horse, while near by stood his own, a miserable, scrawny beast. will's boyish dreams were now a reality; he looked upon his first indian. here, too, was a "buck"--not a graceful, vanishing deer, but a dirty redskin, who seemingly was in some hurry to be gone. without a trace of "buck fever," will jumped up, rifle in hand, and demanded: "here, what are you doing with my horse?" the indian regarded the lad with contemptuous composure. "me swap horses with paleface boy," said he. the red man was fully armed, and will did not know whether his father and the guide were within call or not; but to suffer the indian to ride away with uncle elijah's fine horse was to forfeit his father's confidence and shake his mother's and sisters' belief in the family hero; so he put a bold face upon the matter, and remarked carelessly, as if discussing a genuine transaction: "no; i won't swap." "paleface boy fool!" returned the indian, serenely. now this was scarcely the main point at issue, so will contented himself with replying, quietly but firmly: "you cannot take my horse." the indian condescended to temporize. "paleface horse no good," said he. "good enough for me," replied will, smiling despite the gravity of the situation. the indian shone rather as a liar than a judge of horseflesh. "good enough for me; so you can take your old rack of bones and go." much to will's surprise, the red man dropped the rein, flung himself upon his own pony, and made off. and down fell "lo the poor indian" from the exalted niche that he had filled in will's esteem, for while it was bad in a copper hero to steal horses, it was worse to flee from a boy not yet in his teens. but a few moments later lo went back to his lofty pedestal, for will heard the guide's voice, and realized that it was the sight of a man, and not the threats of a boy, that had sent the indian about his business--if he had any. the guide had returned to escort will to the spot which father, after a search of nearly a week, had discovered, and where he had decided to locate our home. it was in salt creek valley, a fertile blue-grass region, sheltered by an amphitheater range of hills. the old salt lake trail traversed this valley. there were at this time two great highways of western travel, the santa fe and the salt lake trails; later the oregon trail came into prominence. of these the oldest and most historic was the santa fe trail, the route followed by explorers three hundred years ago. it had been used by indian tribes from time, to white men, immemorial. at the beginning of this century it was first used as an artery of commerce. over it zebulon pike made his well-known western trip, and from it radiated his explorations. the trail lay some distance south of leavenworth. it ran westward, dipping slightly to the south until the arkansas river was reached; then, following the course of this stream to bent's fort, it crossed the river and turned sharply to the south. it went through raton pass, and below las vegas it turned west to santa fe. exploration along the line of the salt lake trail began also with this century. it became a beaten highway at the time of the mormon exodus from nauvoo to their present place of abode. the trail crossed the missouri river at leavenworth, and ran northerly to the platte, touching that stream at fort kearny. with a few variations it paralleled the platte to its junction with the sweetwater, and left this river valley to run through south pass to big sandy creek, turning south to follow this little stream. at fort bridger it turned westward again, passed echo canon, and a few miles farther on ran into salt lake city. over this trail journeyed thousands of gold-hunters toward california, hopeful and high-spirited on the westerly way, disappointed and depressed, the large majority of them, on the back track. freighting outfits, cattle trains, emigrants--nearly all the western travel--followed this track across the new land. a man named rively, with the gift of grasping the advantage of location, had obtained permission to establish a trading-post on this trail three miles beyond the missouri, and as proximity to this depot of supplies was a manifest convenience, father's selection of a claim only two miles distant was a wise one. the kansas-nebraska bill, which provided for the organizing of those two territories and opened them for settlement, was passed in may. 1854. this bill directly opposed the missouri compromise, which restricted slavery to all territory south of 36'0 30" north latitude. a clause in the new bill provided that the settlers should decide for themselves whether the new territories were to be free or slave states. already hundreds of settlers were camped upon the banks of the missouri, waiting the passage of the bill before entering and acquiring possession of the land. across the curtain of the night ran a broad ribbon of dancing camp-fires, stretching for miles along the bank of the river. none too soon had father fixed upon his claim. the act allowing settlers to enter was passed in less than a week afterward. besides the pioneers intending actual settlement, a great rush was made into the territories by members of both political parties. these became the gladiators, with kansas the arena, for a bitter, bloody contest between those desiring and those opposing the extension of slave territory. having already decided upon his location, father was among the first, after the bill was passed, to file a claim and procure the necessary papers, and shortly afterward he had a transient abiding-place prepared for us. whatever mother may have thought of the one-roomed cabin, whose chinks let in the sun by day and the moon and stars by night, and whose carpet was nature's greenest velvet, life in it was a perennial picnic for the children. meantime father was at work on our permanent home, and before the summer fled we were domiciled in a large double-log house--rough and primitive, but solid and comfort-breeding. this same autumn held an episode so deeply graven in my memory that time has not blurred a dine of it. jane, our faithful maid of all work, who went with us to our western home, had little time to play the governess. household duties claimed her every waking hour, as mother was delicate, and the family a large one; so turk officiated as both guardian and playmate of the children. one golden september day eliza and i set out after wild flowers, accompanied by turk and mother's caution not to stray too far, as wild beasts, 'twas said, lurked in the neighboring forest; but the prettiest flowers were always just beyond, and we wandered afield until we reached a fringe of timber half a mile from the house, where we tarried under the trees. meantime mother grew alarmed, and will was dispatched after the absent tots. turk, as we recalled, had sought to put a check upon our wanderings, and when we entered the woods his restlessness increased. suddenly he began to paw up the carpet of dry leaves, and a few moments later the shrill scream of a panther echoed through the forest aisles. eliza was barely six years old, and i was not yet four. we clung to each other in voiceless terror. then from afar came a familiar whistle--will's call to his dog. that heartened us, babes as we were, for was not our brother our reliance in every emergency? rescue was at hand; but turk continued tearing up the leaves, after signaling his master with a loud bark. then, pulling at our dresses, he indicated the refuge he had dug for us. here we lay down, and the dog covered us with the leaves, dragging to the heap, as a further screen, a large dead branch. then, with the heart of a lion, he put himself on guard. from our leafy covert we could see the panther's tawny form come gliding through the brush. he saw turk, and crouched for a spring. this came as an arrow, but turk dodged it; and then, with a scream such as i never heard from dog before or since, our defender hurled himself upon the foe. turk was powerful, and his courage was flawless, but he was no match for the panther. in a few moments the faithful dog lay stunned and bleeding from one stroke of the forest-rover's steel-shod paw. the cruel beast had scented other prey, and dismissing turk, he paced to and fro, seeking to locate us. we scarcely dared to breathe, and every throb of our frightened little hearts was a prayer that will would come to us in time. at last the panther's roving eyes rested upon our inadequate hiding-place, and as he crouched for the deadly leap we hid our faces. but turk had arisen. wounded as he was, he yet made one last heroic effort to save us by again directing the panther's attention to himself. the helpless, hopeless ordeal of agony was broken by a rifle's sharp report. the panther fell, shot through the heart, and out from the screen of leaves rushed two hysterical little girls, with pallid faces drowned in tears, who clung about a brother's neck and were shielded in his arms. will, himself but a child, caressed and soothed us in a most paternal fashion; and when the stone of sobs was passed we turned to turk. happily his injuries were not fatal, and he whined feebly when his master reached him. "bravo! good dog!" cried will. "you saved them, turk! you saved them!" and kneeling beside our faithful friend, he put his arms about the shaggy neck. dear old turk! if there be a land beyond the sky for such as thou, may the snuggest corner and best of bones be thy reward! chapter iii. -the shadow of partisan strife. owing to the conditions, already spoken of, under which kansas was settled, all classes were represented in its population. honest, thrifty farmers and well-to-do traders leavened a lump of shiftless ne'er-do-wells, lawless adventurers, and vagabonds of all sorts and conditions. if father at times questioned the wisdom of coming to this new and untried land, he kept his own counsel, and set a brave face against the future. he had been prominent in political circles in iowa, and had filled positions of public trust; but he had no wish to become involved in the partisan strife that raged in kansas. he was a free soil man, and there were but two others in that section who did not believe in slavery. for a year he kept his political views to himself; but it became rumored about that he was an able public speaker, and the pro-slavery men naturally ascribed to him the same opinions as those held by his brother elijah, a pronounced pro-slavery man; so they regarded father as a promising leader in their cause. he had avoided the issue, and had skillfully contrived to escape declaring for one side or the other, but on the scroll of his destiny it was written that he should be one of the first victims offered on the sacrificial altar of the struggle for human liberty. the post-trader's was a popular rendezvous for all the settlers round. it was a day in the summer of '55 that father visited the store, accompanied, as usual, by will and turk. among the crowd, which was noisy and excited, he noted a number of desperadoes in the pro-slavery faction, and noted, too, that uncle elijah and our two free soil neighbors, mr. hathaway and mr. lawrence, were present. father's appearance was greeted by a clamor for a speech. to speak before that audience was to take his life in his hands; yet in spite of his excuses he was forced to the chair. it was written! there was no escape! father walked steadily to the dry-goods box which served as a rostrum. as he passed mr. hathaway, the good old man plucked him by the sleeve and begged him to serve out platitudes to the crowd, and to screen his real sentiments. but father was not a man that dealt in platitudes. "friends," said he, quietly, as he faced his audience and drew himself to his full height,--"friends, you are mistaken in your man. i am sorry to disappoint you. i have no wish to quarrel with you. but you have forced me to speak, and i can do no less than declare my real convictions. i am, and always have been, opposed to slavery. it is an institution that not only degrades the slave, but brutalizes the slave-holder, and i pledge you my word that i shall use my best endeavors--yes, that i shall lay down my life, if need be--to keep this curse from finding lodgment upon kansas soil. it is enough that the fairest portions of our land are already infected with this blight. may it spread no farther. all my energy and my ability shall swell the effort to bring in kansas as a free soil state." up to this point the crowd had been so dumfounded by his temerity that they kept an astonished silence. now the storm broke. the rumble of angry voices swelled into a roar of fury. an angry mob surrounded the speaker. several desperadoes leaped forward with deadly intent, and one, charles dunn by name, drove his knife to the hilt into the body of the brave man who dared thus openly to avow his principles. as father fell, will sprang to him, and turning to the murderous assailant, cried out in boyhood's fury: "you have killed my father! when i'm a man i'll kill you!" the crowd slunk away, believing father dead. the deed appalled them; they were not yet hardened to the lawlessness that was so soon to put the state to blush. mr. hathaway and will then carried father to a hiding-place in the long grass by the wayside. the crowd dispersed so slowly that dusk came on before the coast was clear. at length, supported by will, father dragged his way homeward, marking his tortured progress with a trail of blood. this path was afterward referred to in the early history of kansas as "the cody bloody trail." it was such wild scenes as these that left their impress on the youth and fashioned the cody of later years--cool in emergency, fertile in resource, swift in decision, dashing and intrepid when the time for action came. our troubles were but begun. father's convalescence was long and tedious; he never recovered fully. his enemies believed him dead, and for a while we kept the secret guarded; but as soon as he was able to be about persecution began. about a month after the tragedy at rively's, will ran in one evening with the warning that a band of horsemen were approaching. suspecting trouble, mother put some of her own clothes about father, gave him a pail, and bade him hide in the cornfield. he walked boldly from the house, and sheltered by the gathering dusk, succeeded in passing the horsemen unchallenged. the latter rode up to the house and dismounted. "where's cody?" asked the leader. he was informed that father was not at home. "lucky for him!" was the frankly brutal rejoinder. "we'll make sure work of the killing next time." disappointed in their main intention, the marauders revenged themselves in their own peculiar way by looting the house of every article that took their fancy; then they sat down with the announced purpose of waiting the return of their prospective victim. fearing the effect of the night air upon father, though it was yet summer, mother made a sign to will, who slipped from the room, and guided by turk, carried blankets to the cornfield, returning before his absence had been remarked. the ruffians soon tired of waiting, and rode away, after warning mother of the brave deed they purposed to perform. father came in for the night, returning to his covert with the dawn. in expectation of some such raid, we had secreted a good stock of provisions; but as soon as the day was up will was dispatched to rively's store to reconnoiter, under pretext of buying groceries. keeping eyes and ears open, he learned that father's enemies were on the watch for him; so the cornfield must remain his screen. after several days, the exposure and anxiety told on his strength. he decided to leave home and go to fort leavenworth, four miles distant. when night fell he returned to the house, packed a few needed articles, and bade us farewell. will urged that he ride prince, but he regarded his journey as safer afoot. it was a sad parting. none of us knew whether we should ever again see our father. "i hope," he said to mother, "that these clouds will soon pass away, and that we may have a happy home once more." then, placing his hands on will's head, "you will have to be the man of the house until my return," he said. "but i know i can trust my boy to watch over his mother and sisters." with such responsibilities placed upon his shoulders, such confidence reposed in him, small wonder that will should grow a man in thought and feeling before he grew to be one in years. father reached fort leavenworth in safety, but the quarrel between the pro-slavery party and the free soilers waxed more bitter, and he decided that security lay farther on; so he took passage on an up-river boat to doniphan, twenty miles distant. this was then a mere landing-place, but he found a small band of men in camp cooking supper. they were part of colonel jim lane's command, some three hundred strong, on their way west from indiana. colonel lane was an interesting character. he had been a friend to elijah lovejoy, who was killed, in 1836, for maintaining an anti-slavery newspaper in illinois. the kansas contest speedily developed the fact that the actual settlers sent from the north by the emigrant-aid societies would enable the free state party to outnumber the ruffians sent in by the southerners; and when the pro-slavery men were driven to substituting bullets for ballots, colonel lane recruited a band of hardy men to protect the anti-slavery settlers, and incidentally to avenge the murder of lovejoy. the meeting of father and lane's men was a meeting of friends, and he chose to cast his lot with theirs. shortly afterward he took part in "the battle of hickory point," in which the pro-slavery men were defeated with heavy loss; and thenceforward the name of jim lane was a terror to the lawless and a wall of protection to our family. the storm and stress of battle had drawn heavily on what little strength was left to father, and relying for safety upon the proximity of colonel lane and his men, he returned to us secretly by night, and was at once prostrated on a bed of sickness. this proved a serious strain upon our delicate mother, for during father's absence a little brother had been added to our home, and not only had she, in addition to the care of baby charlie, the nursing of a sick man, but she was constantly harassed by apprehensions for his safety as well. chapter iv. -persecution continues. mother's fears were well grounded. a few days after father had returned home, a man named sharpe, who disgraced the small office of justice of the peace, rode up to our house, very much the worse for liquor, and informed mother that his errand was to "search the house for that abolition husband of yours." the intoxicated ruffian then demanded something to eat. while mother, with a show of hospitality, was preparing supper for him, the amiable mr. sharpe killed time in sharpening his bowie-knife on the sole of his shoe. "that," said he to will, who stood watching him, "that's to cut the heart out of that free state father of yours!" and he tested the edge with brutally suggestive care. will's comment was to take down his rifle and place himself on the staircase leading up to father's room. there was trouble in that quarter for mr. sharpe, if he attempted to ascend those stairs. but the justice, as mother surmised, had no notion that father was at home, else he would not have come alone. he ate heartily of the supper, which will hoped would choke him, and passing from drowsiness to drunken slumber, soon tumbled from his chair. this so confused him that he forgot his pretended errand, and shambled out of the house. he was not so drunk that he could not tell a good bit of horseflesh, and he straightway took a fancy to prince, the pet pony of the family. an unwritten plank in the platform of the pro-slavery men was that the free soil party had no rights they were bound to respect, and sharpe remarked to will, with a malicious grin: "that's a nice pony of yours, sonny. guess i'll take him along with me." and he proceeded to exchange the saddle from the back of his own horse to that of prince. "you old coward!" muttered will, bursting with wrath. "i'll get even with you some day." the justice was a tall, burly fellow, and he cut so ridiculous a figure as he rode away on prince's back, his heels almost touching the ground, that will laughed outright as he thought of a plan to save his pony. a shrill whistle brought turk to the scene, and receiving his cue, the dog proceeded to give sharpe a very bad five minutes. he would nip at one of the dangling legs, spring back out of reach of the whip with a triumphant bark, then repeat the performance with the other leg. this little comedy had a delighted spectator in will, who had followed at a safe distance. just as sharpe made one extra effort to reach turk, the boy whistled a signal to prince, who responded with a bound that dumped his rider in the dust. here turk stood over him and showed his teeth. "call off your dog, bub!" the justice shouted to will, "and you may keep your little sheep, for he's no good, anyway." "that's a bargain!" cried will, restored to good humor; and helping the vanquished foe upon his own steed, he assured him that he need not fear turk so long as he kept his word. sharpe departed, but we were far from being rid of him. about a fortnight later we were enjoying an evening with father, who was now able to come downstairs. he was seated in a big arm-chair before the open fire, with his family gathered round him, by his side our frail, beautiful mother, with baby charlie on her knee, martha and julia, with their sewing, and will, back of mother's chair, tenderly smoothing the hair from her brow, while he related spiritedly some new escapade of turk. suddenly he checked his narrative, listened for a space, and announced: "there are some men riding on the road toward the house. we'd better be ready for trouble." mother, equal to every emergency, hurriedly disposed her slender forces for defense. martha and julia were directed to help father to bed; that done, to repair to the unfurnished front room above stairs; will was instructed to call the hired man and jane, who was almost as large and quite as strong as the average man; and the three were armed and given their cue. they were all handy with their weapons, but mother sought to win by strategy, if possible. she bade the older girls don heavy boots, and gave them further instructions. by this time the horsemen had reached the gate. their leader was the redoubtable justice sharpe. he rode up to the door, and rapped with the but of his riding-whip. mother threw up the window overhead. "who's there? and what do you want?" she demanded. "we want that old abolition husband of yours, and, dead or alive, we mean to have him!" "all right, mr. sharpe," was the steady answer. "i'll ask colonel lane and his men to wait on you." the hired man, who had served in the mexican war, here gave a sharp word of command, which was responded to by trampling of heavy boots upon the bare floor. then, calling a halt, the pretended colonel lane advanced to the window, and shouted to the horsemen: "set foot inside that gate and my men will fire on you!" sharpe, an arrant coward, had retreated at the first sound of a man's voice, and after a short parley with his nonplused companions, he led them away--outwitted by a woman. as a sort of consolation prize, sharpe again made off with prince; but will's sorrow in the morning was short-lived, for the sagacious little creature slipped his halter and came flying home before the forenoon was half spent. after this experience, father decided that, for our sakes as well as for his own, he must again leave home, and as soon as he recovered a measure of his strength he went to grasshopper falls, thirty-five miles west of leavenworth. here he erected a sawmill, and hoped that he had put so many miles between him and his enemies that he might be allowed to pursue a peaceful occupation. he made us occasional visits, so timing his journey that he reached home after nightfall, and left again before the sun was up. one day when we were looking forward to one of these visits, our good friend mr. hathaway made his appearance about eleven o'clock. "it is too bad to be the bearer of ill tidings," said he, "but the news of your husband's expected visit has been noised about in some way, and another plot to kill him is afoot. some of his enemies are camped at big stranger's creek, and intend to shoot him as he passes there." then followed a long and anxious consultation, which ended without any plan of rescue. all of which had been overheard by will, who was confined to his bed with an attack of ague. in him, he decided, lay the only hope for father's safety; so, dressing, he presented his fever-flushed face to mother. as he held out a handkerchief, "tie it tight around my head, mother," said he; "then it won't ache so hard." a remonstrance against his getting out of bed brought out the fact that he contemplated riding to grasshopper falls! he was almost too weak to stand, a storm threatened, and thirty miles lay between him and father; yet he was not to be dissuaded from his undertaking. so julia and martha saddled prince and helped the ague-racked courier to his saddle. the plunge into the open air and the excitement of the start encouraged will to believe that he could hold out. as he settled down to his long, hard ride he reflected that it was not yet noon, and that father would not set out until late in the day. prince seemed to discern that something extraordinary was afoot, and swung along at a swift, steady gait. big stranger's creek cut the road half-way to the falls, and will approached it before the afternoon was half gone. the lowering sky darkened the highway, and he hoped to pass the ambush unrecognized; but as he came up to the stream he made out a camp and campers, one of whom called out carelessly to him as he passed: "are you all right on the goose?"--the cant phrase of the pro-slavery men. "never rode a goose in my life, gentlemen," was the reply. "that's cody's boy!" shouted another voice; and the word "halt!" rang out just as will had galloped safely past the camp. will's answer was to drive the spurs into prince and dart ahead, followed by a rain of bullets. he was now well out of range, and the pony still strong and fleet. the chase was on, and in the thrill of it will forgot his weakness. a new strength came with the rush of air and the ring of hoofs, and "i'll reach the falls in time!" was his heartening thought, as pursurer and pursued sped through the forests, clattered over bridges, and galloped up hill and down. then broke the long-impending storm, and the hard road became the bed of a muddy stream. the pursuit was abandoned, and this stimulus removed, will felt the chills and weakness coming on again. he was drenched to the skin, and it was an effort to keep his saddle, but he set his teeth firmly in his resolve to accomplish his heroic purpose. at last! a welcome light gleamed between the crystal bars of the rain. his mission was accomplished. his ride had been longer by ten miles than that famous gallop of the friend of his after years--phil sheridan. like sheridan, he reached the goal in time, for father was just mounting his horse. but the ride proved too much for his strength, and will collapsed. father started with him, a few days later, for topeka, which was headquarters for the free state party. father acquainted mother of their safety, and explained that he had gone to topeka because he feared his life was no longer safe at grasshopper falls. party strife in kansas was now at its height. thousands came into the territory from adjacent slave states simply to vote, and the pro-slavery party elected a legislature, whose first meeting was held at le compton. this election the free soilers declared illegal, because of fraudulent voting, and assembling at topeka in the winter of 1855-56, they framed a constitution excluding slavery, and organized a rival government. of this first free-soil legislature father was a member. thenceforth war was the order of the day, and in the fall of 1856 a military governor was appointed, with full authority to maintain law and order in kansas. recognizing the good work effected by the emigrant-aid societies, and realizing that in a still larger northern emigration to kansas lay the only hope of its admission as a free state, father went to ohio in the following spring, to labor for the salvation of the territory he had chosen for his home. here his natural gift of oratory had free play, and as the result of his work on the stump he brought back to kansas sixty families, the most of whom settled in the vicinity of grasshopper falls, now valley falls. this meant busy times for us, for with that magnificent disregard for practical matters that characterizes many men of otherwise great gifts, father had invited each separate family to make headquarters at his home until other arrangements could be perfected. as a result, our house overflowed, while the land about us was dotted with tents; but these melted away, as one by one the families selected claims and put up cabins. among the other settlers was judge delahay, who, with his family, located at leavenworth, and began the publishing of the first abolition newspaper in kansas. the appointing of the military governor was the means of restoring comparative tranquillity; but hundreds of outrages were committed, and the judge and his newspaper came in for a share of suffering. the printing-office was broken into, and the type and press thrown into the missouri river. undaunted, the judge procured a new press, and the paper continued. a semi-quiet now reigned in the territory; father resumed work at the sawmill, and we looked forward to a peaceful home and the joy of being once more permanently united. but it was not to be. the knife wound had injured father's lung. with care and nursing it might have healed, but constant suffering attended on the life that persecution had led him, and in the spring of '57 he again came home, and took to his bed for the last time. all that could be was done, but nothing availed. after a very short illness he passed away--one of the first martyrs in the cause of freedom in kansas. the land of his adoption became his last, long resting-place. his remains now lie on pilot knob, which overlooks the beautiful city of leavenworth. his death was regretted even by his enemies, who could not help but grant a tribute of respect to a man who had been upright, just, and generous to friend and foe. chapter v. -the "boy extra." at this sorrowful period mother was herself almost at death's door with consumption, but far from sinking under the blow, she faced the new conditions with a steadfast calm, realizing that should she, too, be taken, her children would be left without a protector, and at the mercy of the enemies whose malignity had brought their father to an untimely end. her indomitable will opposed her bodily weakness. "i will not die," she told herself, "until the welfare of my children is assured." she was needed, for our persecution continued. hardly was the funeral over when a trumped-up claim for a thousand dollars, for lumber and supplies, was entered against our estate. mother knew the claim was fictitious, as all the bills had been settled, but the business had been transacted through the agency of uncle elijah, and father had neglected to secure the receipts. in those bitter, troublous days it too often happened that brother turned against brother, and elijah retained his fealty to his party at the expense of his dead brother's family. this fresh affliction but added fuel to the flame of mother's energy. our home was paid for, but father's business had been made so broken and irregular that our financial resources were of the slenderest, and should this unjust claim for a thousand dollars be allowed, we would be homeless. the result of mother's study of the situation was, "if i had the ready money, i should fight the claim." "you fight the claim, and i'll get the money," will replied. mother smiled, but will continued: "russell, majors & waddell will give me work. jim willis says i am capable of filling the position of 'extra.' if you'll go with me and ask mr. majors for a job, i'm sure he'll give me one." russell, majors & waddell were overland freighters and contractors, with headquarters at leavenworth. to will's suggestion mother entered a demurrer, but finally yielded before his insistence. mr. majors had known father, and was more than willing to aid us, but will's youth was an objection not lightly overridden. "what can a boy of your age do?" he asked, kindly. "i can ride, shoot, and herd cattle," said will; "but i'd rather be an 'extra' on one of your trains.' "but that is a man's work, and is dangerous besides." mr. majors hesitated. "but i'll let you try it one trip, and if you do a man's work, i'll give you a man's pay." so will's name was put on the company roll, and he signed a pledge that illustrates better than a description the character and disposition of mr. majors. "i, william f. cody," it read, "do hereby solemnly swear, before the great and living god, that during my engagement with, and while i am in the employ of, russell, majors & waddell, i will, under no circumstances, use profane language, that i will not quarrel or fight with any other employee of the firm, and that in every respect i will conduct myself honestly, be faithful to my duties, and so direct all my acts as to win the confidence of my employers. so help me god!" mr majors employed many wild and reckless men, but the language of the pledge penetrated to the better nature of them all. they endeavored, with varying success, to live up to its conditions, although most of them held that driving a bull-team constituted extenuating circumstances for an occasional expletive. the pledge lightened mother's heart; she knew that will would keep his word; she felt, too, that a man that required such a pledge of his employees was worthy of their confidence and esteem. the train was to start in a day, and all of us were busy with the preparations for will's two months' trip. the moment of parting came, and it was a trying ordeal for mother, so recently bereaved of husband. will sought to soothe her, but the younger sisters had better success, for with tears in our eyes we crowded about him, imploring him to "run if he saw any indians." 'tis but a step from tears to smiles; the situation was relieved, and will launched his life bark amid adieus of hope and confidence and love. his fortitude lasted only till he was out of sight of the house; but youth is elastic, the plains lay before him, and mother and sisters were to be helped; so he presented a cheerful face to his employers. that night the bed of the "boy extra" was a blanket under a wagon; but he slept soundly, and was ready when the train started with the dawn. the "bull-train" took its name from the fact that each of the thirty-five wagons making up a full train was hauled by several yoke of oxen, driven by one man, known as a bullwhacker. this functionary's whip cracked like a rifle, and could be heard about as far. the wagons resembled the ordinary prairie-schooner, but were larger and more strongly built; they were protected from the weather by a double covering of heavy canvas, and had a freight capacity of seven thousand pounds. besides the bullwhackers there were cavallard drivers (who cared for the loose cattle), night herders, and sundry extra hands, all under the charge of a chief wagon-master, termed the wagon-boss, his lieutenants being the boss of the cattle train and the assistant wagon-master. the men were disposed in messes, each providing its own wood and water, doing its own cooking, and washing up its own tin dinner service, while one man in each division stood guard. special duties were assigned to the "extras," and will's was to ride up and down the train delivering orders. this suited his fancy to a dot, for the oxen were snail-gaited, and to plod at their heels was dull work. kipling tells us it is quite impossible to "hustle the east"; it were as easy, as will discovered, to hustle a bull-train. from the outset the "boy extra" was a favorite with the men. they liked his pluck in undertaking such work, and when it was seen that he took pride in executing orders promptly, he became a favorite with the bosses as well. in part his work was play to him; he welcomed an order as a break in the monotony of the daily march, and hailed the opportunity of a gallop on a good horse. the world of will's fancy was bounded by the hazy rim where plain and sky converge, and when the first day's journey was done, and he had staked out and cared for his horse, he watched with fascinated eyes the strange and striking picture limned against the black hills and the sweeping stretch of darkening prairie. everything was animation; the bullwhackers unhitching and disposing of their teams, the herders staking out the cattle, and--not the least interesting--the mess cooks preparing the evening meal at the crackling camp-fires, with the huge, canvas-covered wagons encircling them like ghostly sentinels; the ponies and oxen blinking stupidly as the flames stampeded the shadows in which they were enveloped; and more weird than all, the buckskin-clad bullwhackers, squatted around the fire, their beards glowing red in its light, their faces drawn in strange black and yellow lines, while the spiked grasses shot tall and sword-like over them. it was wonderful--that first night of the "boy extra." but will discovered that life on the plains is not all a supper under the stars when the sparks fly upward; it has its hardships and privations. there were days, as the wagons dragged their slow lengths along, when the clouds obscured the sky and the wind whistled dismally; days when torrents fell and swelled the streams that must be crossed, and when the mud lay ankle-deep; days when the cattle stampeded, and the round-up meant long, extra hours of heavy work; and, hardest but most needed work of all, the eternal vigil 'gainst an indian attack. will did not share the anxiety of his companions. to him a brush with indians would prove that boyhood's dreams sometimes come true, and in imagination he anticipated the glory of a first encounter with the "noble red man," after the fashion of the heroes in the hair-lifting western tales he had read. he was soon to learn, as many another has learned, that the indian of real life is vastly different from the indian of fiction. he refuses to "bite the dust" at sight of a paleface, and a dozen of them have been known to hold their own against as many white men. some twenty miles west of fort kearny a halt was made for dinner at the bank of a creek that emptied into the platte river. no signs of indians had been observed, and there was no thought of special danger. nevertheless, three men were constantly on guard. many of the trainmen were asleep under the wagons while waiting dinner, and will was watching the maneuvers of the cook in his mess. suddenly a score of shots rang out from the direction of a neighboring thicket, succeeded by a chorus of savage yells. will saw the three men on the lookout drop in their tracks, and saw the indians divide, one wing stampeding the cattle, the other charging down upon the camp. the trainmen were old frontiersmen, and although taken wholly by surprise, they lined up swiftly in battle array behind the wagons, with the bosses, bill and frank mccarthy, at their head, and the "boy extra" under the direction of the wagon-master. a well-placed volley of rifle-balls checked the indians, and they wheeled and rode away, after sending in a scattering cloud of arrows, which wounded several of the trainmen. the decision of a hasty council of war was, that a defensive stand would be useless, as the indians outnumbered the whites ten to one, and red reinforcements were constantly coming up, until it seemed to will as if the prairie were alive with them. the only hope of safety lay in the shelter of the creek's high bank, so a run was made for it. the indians charged again, with the usual accompaniment of whoops, yells, and flying arrows; but the trainmen had reached the creek, and from behind its natural breastwork maintained a rifle fire that drove the foe back out of range. to follow the creek and river to fort kearny was not accounted much of a chance for escape, but it was the only avenue that lay open; so, with a parting volley to deceive the besiegers into thinking that the fort was still held, the perilous and difficult journey was begun. the indians quickly penetrated the ruse, and another charge had to be repulsed. besides the tiresome work of wading, there were wounded men to help along, and a ceaseless watch to keep against another rush of the reds. it was a trying ordeal for a man, doubly so for a boy like will; but he was encouraged to coolness and endurance by a few words from frank mccarthy, who remarked, admiringly, "well, billy, you didn't scare worth a cent." after a few miles of wading the little party issued out upon the platte river. by this time the wounded men were so exhausted that a halt was called to improvise a raft. on this the sufferers were placed, and three or four men detailed to shove it before them. in consideration of his youth, will was urged to get upon the raft, but he declined, saying that he was not wounded, and that if the stream got too deep for him to wade, he could swim. this was more than some of the men could do, and they, too, had to be assisted over the deep places. thus wore the long and weary hours away, and though the men, who knew how hard a trip it was, often asked, "how goes it, billy?" he uttered no word of complaint. but half a day's wading, without rest or food, gradually weighted his heels, and little by little he lagged behind his companions. the moon came out and silvered tree and river, but the silent, plodding band had no eyes for the glory of the landscape. will had fallen behind some twenty rods, but in a moment fatigue was forgotten, the blood jumped in his veins, for just ahead of him the moonlight fell upon the feathered head-dress of an indian chief, who was peering over the bank. motionless, he watched the head, shoulders, and body of the brave come into view. the indian supposed the entire party ahead, and will made no move until the savage bent his bow. then he realized, with a thumping heart, that death must come to one of his comrades or the indian. even in direst necessity it is a fearful thing to deliberately take a human life, but will had no time for hesitation. there was a shot, and the indian rolled down the bank into the river. his expiring yell was answered by others. the reds were not far away. frank mccarthy, missing will, stationed guards, and ran back to look for him. he found the lad hauling the dead warrior ashore, and seizing his hand, cried out: "well done, my boy; you've killed your first indian, and done it like a man!" will wanted to stop and bury the body, but being assured that it was not only an uncustomary courtesy, but in this case quite impossible, he hastened on. as they came up with the waiting group mccarthy called out: "pards, little billy has killed his first redskin!" the announcement was greeted with cheers, which grated on will's ears, for his heart was sick, and the cheers seemed strangely out of place. little time, however, was afforded for sentiment of any sort. enraged at the death of their scout, the indians made a final charge, which was repulsed, like the others, and after this bill mccarthy took the lead, with frank at the rear, to prevent further straggling of the forces. it was a haggard-faced band that came up to fort kearny with the dawn. the wounded men were left at the post, while the others returned to the wrecked bull-train under escort of a body of troops. they hoped to make some salvage, but the cattle had either been driven away or had joined one of the numerous herds of buffalo; the wagons and their freight had been burned, and there was nothing to do but bury the three pickets, whose scalped and mutilated bodies were stretched where they had fallen. then the troops and trainmen parted company, the former to undertake a bootless quest for the red marauders, the latter to return to leavenworth, their occupation gone. the government held itself responsible for the depredations of its wards, and the loss of the wagons and cattle was assumed at washington. chapter vi. -family defender and household tease. the fame to which byron woke one historic morning was no more unexpected to him than that which now greeted will. the trainmen had not been over-modest in their accounts of his pluck; and when a newspaper reporter lent the magic of his imagination to the plain narrative, it became quite a story, headed in display type, "the boy indian slayer." but will was speedily concerned with other than his own affairs, for as soon as his position with the freighters was assured, mother engaged a lawyer to fight the claim against our estate. this legal light was john c. douglass, then unknown, unhonored, and unsung, but talented and enterprising notwithstanding. he had just settled in leavenworth, and he could scarcely have found a better case with which to storm the heights of fame--the dead father, the sick mother, the helpless children, and relentless persecution, in one scale; in the other, an eleven-year-old boy doing a man's work to earn the money needed to combat the family's enemies. douglass put his whole strength into the case. he knew as well as we that our cause was weak; it hung by a single thread--a missing witness, mr. barnhart. this man had acted as bookkeeper when the bills were paid, but he had been sent away, and the prosecution--or persecution--had thus far succeeded in keeping his where-abouts a secret. to every place where he was likely to be lawyer douglass had written; but we were as much in the dark as ever when the morning for the trial of the suit arrived. the case had excited much interest, and the court-room was crowded, many persons having been drawn thither by a curiosity to look upon "the boy indian slayer." there was a cheerful unanimity of opinion upon the utter hopelessness of the cody side of the case. not only were prominent and wealthy men arrayed against us, but our young and inexperienced lawyer faced the heaviest legal guns of the leavenworth bar. our only witnesses were a frail woman and a girl of eighteen, though by their side, with his head held high, was the family protector, our brave young brother. against us were might and malignity; upon our side, right and the high courage with which christianity steels the soul of a believer. mother had faith that the invisible forces of the universe were fighting for our cause. she and martha swore to the fact that all the bills had been settled; and after the opposition had rested its case, lawyer douglass arose for the defense. his was a magnificent plea for the rights of the widow and the orphan, and was conceded to be one of the finest speeches ever heard in a kansas court-room; but though all were moved by our counsel's eloquence--some unto tears by the pathos of it--though the justice of our cause was freely admitted throughout the court-room, our best friends feared the verdict. but the climax was as stunning to our enemies as it was unexpected. as lawyer douglass finished his last ringing period, the missing witness, mr. barnhart, hurried into the court-room. he had started for leavenworth upon the first intimation that his presence there was needed, and had reached it just in time. he took the stand, swore to his certain knowledge that the bills in question had been paid, and the jury, without leaving their seats, returned a verdict for the defense. then rose cheer upon cheer, as our friends crowded about us and offered their congratulations. our home was saved, and lawyer douglass had won a reputation for eloquence and sterling worth that stood undimmed through all his long and prosperous career. the next ripple on the current of our lives was sister martha's wedding day. possessed of remarkable beauty, she had become a belle, and as young ladies were scarce in kansas at that time, she was the toast of all our country round. but her choice had fallen on a man unworthy of her. of his antecedents we knew nothing; of his present life little more, save that he was fair in appearance and seemingly prosperous. in the sanction of the union will stood aloof. joined to a native intuition were the sharpened faculties of a lad that lived beyond his years. almost unerring in his insight, he disliked the object of our sister's choice so thoroughly that he refused to be a witness of the nuptials. this dislike we attributed to jealousy, as brother and sister worshiped each other, but the sequel proved a sad corroboration of his views. nature seemed to join her protest to will's silent antagonism. a terrific thunder-storm came up with the noon hour of the wedding. so deep and sullen were the clouds that we were obliged to light the candles. when the wedding pair took their places before hymen's altar, a crash of thunder rocked the house and set the casements rattling. the couple had their home awaiting them in leavenworth, and departed almost immediately after the ceremony. the cares and responsibilities laid upon our brother's shoulders did not quench his boyish spirits and love of fun. not buffalo bill's! he gave us a jack-o'-lantern scare once upon a time, which i don't believe any of us will ever forget. we had never seen that weird species of pumpkin, and will embroidered a blood-and-thunder narrative. "the pumpkins all rise up out of the ground," said he, "on fire, with the devil's eyes, and their mouths open, like blood-red lions, and grab you, and go under the earth. you better look out!" "that ain't so!" all of us little girls cried; "you know it's a fib. ain't it, mother?" and we ran as usual to mother. "will, you mustn't tell the children such tales. of course they're just fibs," said mother. "so there!" we cried, in triumph. but will had a "so there" answer for us a few nights later. we were coming home late one evening, and found the gate guarded by mad-looking yellow things, all afire, and grinning hideously like real live men in the moon dropped down from the sky. "jack-o'-lanterns!" screamed eliza, grabbing may by the hand, and starting to run. i began to say my prayers, of course, and cry for mother. all at once the heads moved! even turk's tail shot between his legs, and he howled in fright. we saw the devil's eyes, the blood-red lion's mouths, and all the rest, and set up such a chorus of wild yells that the whole household rushed to our rescue. while we were panting out our story, we heard will snickering behind the door. "so there, smarties! you'll believe what i tell you next time. you bet--ter--had!" but he liked best to invade our play-room and "work magic" on our dolls. mother had set aside one apartment in our large log house for a play-room, and here each one of our doll families dwelt in peace and harmony, when will wasn't around. but there was tragedy whenever he came near. he would scalp the mother dolls, and tie their babies to the bedposts, and would storm into their pasteboard-box houses at night, after we had fixed them all in order, and put the families to standing on their heads. he was a dreadful tease. it was in this play-room that the germ of his wild west took life. he formed us into a regular little company--turk and the baby, too--and would start us in marching order for the woods. he made us stick horses and wooden tomahawks, spears, and horsehair strings, so that we could be cowboys, indians, bullwhackers, and cavalrymen. all the scenes of his first freighting trip were acted out in the woods of salt creek valley. we had stages, robbers, "hold-ups," and most ferocious indian battles. will was always the "principal scalper," however, and we had few of our feathers left after he was on the warpath. we were so little we couldn't reach his feathers. he always wore two long shiny ones, which had been the special pride of our black rooster, and when he threw a piece of an old blanket gotten from the leavenworth barracks around his shoulders, we considered him a very fine general indeed. all of us were obedient to the letter on "show days," and scarcely ever said "now, stop," or "i'll tell mother on you!" but during one of these exciting performances will came to a short stop. "i believe i'll run a show when i get to be a man," said he. "that fortune lady said you'd got to be president of the united states," said eliza. "how could ze presiman won a show?" asked may. "how could that old fortune-teller know what i'm going to be?" will would answer, disdainfully. "i rather guess i can have a show, in spite of all the fortune-tellers in the country. i'll tell you right now, girls, i don't propose to be president, but i do mean to have a show!" such temerity in disputing one's destiny was appalling; and though our ideas of destiny were rather vague, we could grasp one dreadful fact: will had refused to be president of the united states! so we ran crying to mother, and burying our faces in her lap, sobbed out: "oh, mother! will says he ain't going to be president. don't he have to be?" still, in spite of will's fine scorn of fortune-tellers, the prophecy concerning his future must have been sometimes in his mind. this was shown in an episode that the writer is in duty bound, as a veracious chronicler, to set down. our neighbor, mr. hathaway, had a son, eugene, of about will's age, and the two were fast friends. one day, when will was visiting at eugene's house, the boys introduced themselves to a barrel of hard cider. temperance sentiment had not progressed far enough to bring hard cider under the ban, and mr. hathaway had lately pressed out a quantity of the old-fashioned beverage. the boys, supposing it a harmless drink, took all they desired--much more than they could carry. they were in a deplorable condition when mr. hathaway found them; and much distressed, the good old man put eugene to bed and brought will home. the family hero returned to us with a flourish of trumpets. he stood up in the wagon and sang and shouted; and when mr. hathaway reproved him, "don't talk to me," was his lofty rejoinder. "you forget that i am to be president of the united states." there is compensation for everything. will never touched cider again; and never again could he lord it over his still admiring but no longer docile sisters. if he undertook to boss or tease us more than to our fancy, we would subdue him with an imitation of his grandiloquent, "you forget that i am to be president of the united states." indeed, so severe was this retaliation that we seldom saw him the rest of the day. but he got even with us when "preacher day" came around. like "little breeches" father, will never did go in much on religion, and when the ministers assembled for "quarterly meeting" at our house, we never knew what to expect from him. mother was a methodist, and as our log house was larger than the others in the valley, it fell to our lot to entertain the preachers often. we kept our preparations on the quiet when will was home, but he always managed to find out what was up, and then trouble began. his first move was to "sick" turk on the yellow-legged chickens. they were our best ones, and the only thing we had for the ministers to eat. then will would come stalking in: "say, mother, just saw all the yellow-legged chickens a-scooting up the road. methodist preachers must be in the wind, for the old hens are flying like sixty!" "now, will, you call turk off, and round up those chickens right away." "catch meself!" and will would dance around and tease so he nearly drove us all distracted. it was with the greatest difficulty that mother could finally prevail upon him to round up the chickens. that done, he would tie up the pump-handle, milk the cows dry, strew the path to the gate with burrs and thistles, and stick up a sign, "thorney is the path and stickery the way that leedith unto the kingdom of heaven. amen!" then when mother had put a nice clean valance, freshly starched and ruffled, around the big four-poster bed in the sitting-room, will would daub it up with smearcase, and just before the preachers arrived, sneak in under it, and wait for prayers. mother always desired us to file in quietly, but we couldn't pass the bed without our legs being pinched; so we "hollered," but were afraid to tell mother the reason before the ministers. we had to bear it, but we snickered ourselves when the man will called "elder green persimmon," because when he prayed his mouth went inside out, came mincing into the room, and as he passed the valance and got a pinch, jerked out a sour-grape sneeze: "mercy on us! i thought i was bitten by that fierce dog of yours, mrs. cody; but it must have been a burr." then the "experiences" would begin. will always listened quietly, until the folks began telling how wicked they had been before they got religion; then he would burst in with a vigorous "amen!" the elders did not know will's voice; so they would get warmed up by degree as the amens came thicker and faster. when he had worked them all up to a red-hot pitch, will would start that awful snort of his that always made us double up with giggles, and with a loud cockle-doodle-doo! would bolt from the bed like a lightning flash and make for the window. so "preacher day," as will always called it, became the torment of our lives. to tell the truth, will always was teasing us, but if he crooked his finger at us we would bawl. we bawled and squalled from morning till night. yet we fairly worshiped him, and cried harder when he went away than when he was home. chapter vii. -indian encounter and school-day incidents. will was not long at home. the mormons, who were settled in utah, rebelled when the government, objecting to the quality of justice meted out by brigham young, sent a federal judge to the territory. troops, under the command of general albert sidney johnston, were dispatched to quell the insurrection, and russell, majors & waddell contracted to transport stores and beef cattle to the army massing against the mormons in the fall of 1857. the train was a large one, better prepared against such an attack as routed the mccarthy brothers earlier in the summer; yet its fate was the same. will was assigned to duty as "extra" under lew simpson, an experienced wagon-master, and was subject to his orders only. there was the double danger of mormons and indians, so the pay was good. forty dollars a month in gold looked like a large sum to an eleven-year-old. will's second departure was quite as tragic as the first. we girls, as before, were loud in our wailings, and offered to forgive him the depredations in the doll-house and all his teasings, if only he would not go away and be scalped by the indians. mother said little, but her anxious look, as she recalled the perils of the former trip, spoke volumes. he carried with him the memory of the open-mouthed admiration of little charlie, to whom "brother will" was the greatest hero in the world. turk's grief at the parting was not a whit less than ours, and the faithful old fellow seemed to realize that in will's absence the duty of the family protector devolved on him; so he made no attempt to follow will beyond the gate. the train made good progress, and more than half the journey to fort bridger was accomplished without a setback. when the rockies were reached, a noon halt was made near green river, and here the men were surrounded and overcome by a large force of danites, the "avenging angels" of the mormon church, who had "stolen the livery of the court of heaven to serve the devil in." these were responsible for the atrocious mountain meadow massacre, in june of this same year, though the wily "saints" had planned to place the odium of an unprovoked murder of innocent women and children upon the indians, who had enough to answer for, and in this instance were but the tools of the mormon church. brigham young repudiated his accomplice, and allowed john d. lee to become the scapegoat. the dying statement of this man is as pathetic as cardinal wolsey's arraignment of henry viii. "a victim must be had," said he, "and i am that victim. for thirty years i studied to make brigham young's will my law. see now what i have come to this day. i have been sacrificed in a cowardly, dastardly manner. i do not fear death. i cannot go to a worse place than i am now in." john d. lee deserved his fate, but brigham young was none the less a coward. the danites spared the lives of the trainmen, but they made sad havoc of the supplies. these they knew to be intended for the use of the army opposed to brigham young. they carried off all the stores they could handle, drove with them or stampeded the cattle, and burned the wagons. the trainmen were permitted to retain one wagon and team, with just enough supplies to last them to army headquarters. it was a disheartened, discomfited band that reached fort bridger. the information that two other trains had been destroyed added to their discouragement, for that meant that they, in common with the other trainmen and the soldiers at the fort, must subsist on short rations for the winter. there were nearly four hundred of these trainmen, and it was so late in the season that they had no choice but to remain where they were until spring opened. it was an irksome winter. the men at the fort hauled their firewood two miles; as the provisions dwindled, one by one the oxen were slaughtered, and when this food supply was exhausted, starvation reared its gaunt form. happily the freighters got word of the situation, and a relief team reached the fort before the spring was fairly opened. as soon as practicable the return journey was undertaken. at fort laramie two large trains were put in charge of lew simpson, as brigade wagon-master, and will was installed as courier between the two caravans, which traveled twenty miles apart--plenty of elbow room for camping and foraging. one morning, simpson, george woods, and will, who were in the rear train, set out for the forward one, mounted upon mules, and armed, as the trainmen always were, with rifle, knife, and a brace of revolvers. about half of the twenty miles had been told off when the trio saw a band of indians emerge from a clump of trees half a mile away and sweep toward them. flight with the mules was useless; resistance promised hardly more success, as the indians numbered a full half-hundred: but surrender was death and mutilation. "shoot the mules, boys!" ordered simpson, and five minutes later two men and a boy looked grimly over a still palpitating barricade. the defense was simple; rifles at range, revolvers for close quarters, knives at the last. the chief, easily distinguished by his feathered head-dress, was assigned to will. already his close shooting was the pride of the frontiersmen. simpson's coolness steadied the lad, who realized that the situation was desperate. the indians came on with the rush and scream of the march wind. "fire!" said simpson, and three ponies galloped riderless as the smoke curled from three rifle barrels. dismayed by the fall of their chief, the redskins wheeled and rode out of range. will gave a sigh of relief. "load up again, billy!" smiled simpson. "they'll soon be back." "they've only three or four rifles," said woods. there had been little lead in the cloud of arrows. "here they come!" warned simpson, and the trio ran their rifles out over the dead mules. three more riderless ponies; but the indians kept on, supposing they had drawn the total fire of the whites. a revolver fusillade undeceived them, and the charging column wavered and broke for cover. simpson patted will on the shoulder as they reloaded. "you're a game one, billy!" said he. "you bet he is," echoed woods, coolly drawing an arrow from his shoulder. "how is that, lew--poisoned?" will waited breathless for the decision, and his relief was as great as woods's when simpson, after a critical scrutiny, answered "no." the wound was hastily dressed, and the little company gave an undivided attention to the foe, who were circling around their quarry, hanging to the off sides of their ponies and firing under them. with a touch of the grim humor that plain life breeds, will declared that the mules were veritable pincushions, so full of arrows were they stuck. the besieged maintained a return fire, dropping pony after pony, and occasionally a rider. this proved expensive sport to the indians, and the whole party finally withdrew from range. there was a long breathing spell, which the trio improved by strengthening their defense, digging up the dirt with their knives and piling it upon the mules. it was tedious work, but preferable to inactivity and cramped quarters. two hours went by, and the plan of the enemy was disclosed. a light breeze arose, and the indians fired the prairie. luckily the grass near the trail was short, and though the heat was intense and the smoke stifling, the barricade held off the flame. simpson had kept a close watch, and presently gave the order to fire. a volley went through the smoke and blaze, and the yell that followed proved that it was not wasted. this last ruse failing, the indians settled down to their favorite game--waiting. a thin line of them circled out of range; ponies were picketed and tents pitched; night fell, and the stars shot out. as woods was wounded, he was excused from guard duty, will and simpson keeping watch in turn. will took the first vigil, and, tired though he was, experienced no difficulty in keeping awake, but he went soundly to sleep the moment he was relieved. he was wakened by a dream that turk was barking to him, and vaguely alarmed, he sat up to find simpson sleeping across his rifle. the midnight hush was unbroken, and the darkness lay thick upon the plain, but shapes blacker than night hovered near, and will laid his hand on simpson's shoulder. the latter was instantly alive, and woods was wakened. a faint click went away on the night breeze, and a moment later three jets of flame carried warning to the up-creeping foe that the whites were both alive and on the alert. there was no more sleep within the barricade. the dawn grew into day, and anxious eyes scanned the trail for reinforcements--coming surely, but on what heavy and slow-turning wheels! noon came and passed. the anxious eyes questioned one another. had the rear train been overcome by a larger band of savages? but suddenly half a dozen of the indians were seen to spring up with gestures of excitement, and spread the alarm around the circle. "they hear the cracking of the bull-whips," said simpson. the indians who had seen the first team pass, and had assumed that simpson and his companions were straggling members of it, did not expect another train so soon. there was "mounting in hot haste," and the indians rode away in one bunch for the distant foothills, just as the first ox-team broke into view. and never was there fairer picture to more appreciative eyes than those same lumbering, clumsy animals, and never sweeter music than the harsh staccato of the bullwhips. when hunger was appeased, and woods's wound properly dressed, will, for the second time, found himself a hero among the plainsmen. his nerve and coolness were dwelt upon by simpson, and to the dream that waked him in season was ascribed the continued life on earth of the little company. will, however, was disposed to allow turk the full credit for the service. the remainder of the trip was devoid of special incident, and as will neared home he hurried on in advance of the train. his heart beat high as he thought of the dear faces awaiting him, unconscious that he was so near. but the home toward which he was hastening with beating heart and winged heels was shadowed by a great grief. sister martha's married life, though brief, had amply justified her brother's estimate of the man into whose hands she had given her life. she was taken suddenly ill, and it was not until several months later that will learned that the cause of her sickness was the knowledge that had come to her of the faithless nature of her husband. the revelation was made through the visit of one of mr. c----'s creditors, who, angered at a refusal to liquidate a debt, accused mr. c----of being a bigamist, and threatened to set the law upon him. the blow was fatal to one of martha's pure and affectionate nature, already crushed by neglect and cruelty. all that night she was delirious, and her one thought was "willie," and the danger he was in--not alone the physical danger, but the moral and spiritual peril that she feared lay in association with rough and reckless men. she moaned and tossed, and uttered incoherent cries; but as the morning broke the storm went down, and the anxious watchers fancied that she slept. suddenly she sat up, the light of reason again shining in her eyes, and with a joyous cry, "tell mother willie's saved! willie's saved!" she fell back on her pillow, and her spirit passed away. on her face was the peace that the world can neither give nor take away. the veil of the unknown had been drawn aside for a space. she had "sent her soul through the invisible," and it had found the light that lit the last weary steps through the valley of the shadow. mr. c---had moved from leavenworth to johnson county, twenty-five miles away, and as there were neither telegraph nor mail facilities, he had the body sent home, himself accompanying it. thus our first knowledge of martha's sickness came when her lifeless clay was borne across our threshold, the threshold that, less than a year before, she had crossed a bright and bonny bride. dazed by the shock, we longed for will's return before we must lay his idolized sister forever in her narrow cell. all of the family, mr. c---included, were gathered in the sitting-room, sad and silent, when turk suddenly raised his head, listened a second, and bounded out of doors. "will is coming!" cried mother, and we all ran to the door. turk was racing up the long hill, at the top of which was a moving speck that the dog knew to be his master. his keen ears had caught the familiar whistle half a mile away. when turk had manifested his joy at the meeting, he prepared will for the bereavement that awaited him; he put his head down and emitted a long and repeated wail. will's first thought was for mother, and he fairly ran down the hill. the girls met him some distance from the house, and sobbed out the sad news. and when he had listened, the lad that had passed unflinching through two indian fights, broke down, and sobbed with the rest of us. "did that rascal, c----, have anything to do with her death?" he asked, when the first passion of grief was over. julia, who knew no better at the time, replied that mr. c----was the kindest of husbands, and was crushed with sorrow at his loss; but spite of the assurance, will, when he reached the house, had neither look nor word for him. he just put his arms about mother's neck, and mingled his grief with her words of sympathy and love. martha was shortly after laid by father's side, and as we stood weeping in that awful moment when the last spadeful of earth completes the sepulture, will, no longer master of himself, stepped up before mr. c----: "murderer," he said, "one day you shall answer to me for the death of her who lies there!" when will next presented himself at mr. majors's office, he was told that his services had been wholly satisfactory, and that he could have work at any time he desired. this was gratifying, but a sweeter pleasure was to lay his winter's wages in mother's lap. through his help, and her business ability, our pecuniary affairs were in good condition. we were comfortably situated, and as salt creek valley now boasted of a schoolhouse, mother wished will to enter school. he was so young when he came west that his school-days had been few; nor was the prospect of adding to their number alluring. after the excitement of life on the plains, going to school was dull work; but will realized that there was a world beyond the prairie's horizon, and he entered school, determined to do honest work. our first teacher was of the good, old-fashioned sort. he taught because he had to live. he had no love for his work, and knew nothing of children. the one motto he lived up to was, "spare the rod and spoil the child." as will was a regular tartar in the schoolroom, he, more than all the other scholars, made him put his smarting theory into practice. almost every afternoon was attended with the dramatic attempt to switch will. the schoolroom was separated into two grand divisions, "the boys on teacher's side," and those "on the cody side." the teacher would send his pets out to get switches, and part of our division--we girls, of course--would begin to weep; while those who had spunk would spit on their hands, clench their fists, and "dare 'em to bring them switches in!" those were hot times in old salt creek valley! one morning turk, too, was seized with educational ambition, and accompanied will to school. we tried to drive him home, but he followed at a distance, and as we entered the schoolhouse, he emerged from the shrubbery by the roadside and crept under the building. alas for the scholars, and alas for the school! another ambitious dog reposed beneath the temple of learning. will, about that time, was having a bad quarter of an hour. an examination into his knowledge, or lack of it, was under way, and he was hard pressed. had he been asked how to strike a trail, locate water, or pitch a tent, his replies would have been full and accurate, but the teacher's queries seemed as foolish as the "reeling and writhing, ambition, distraction, uglification, and derision" of the mock turtle in "alice in wonderland." turk effected an unexpected rescue. snarls were heard beneath the schoolhouse; then savage growls and yelps, while the floor resounded with the whacks of the canine combatants. with a whoop that would not have disgraced an indian, will was out of doors, shouting, "eat him up, turk! eat him up!" the owner of the opposing dog was one steve gobel. 'twixt him and will a good-sized feud existed. steve was also on the scene, with a defiant, "sic 'em, nigger!" and the rest of the school followed in his wake. of the twisting, yelping bundle of dog-flesh that rolled from under the schoolhouse it was difficult to say which was turk and which nigger. eliza and i called to turk, and wept because he would not hear. the teacher ordered the children back to their studies, but they were as deaf as turk; whereat the enraged pedagogue hopped wildly about, flourishing a stick and whacking every boy that strayed within reach of it. nigger soon had enough of the fight, and striking his tail-colors, fled yelping from the battle-ground. his master, steve gobel, a large youth of nineteen or twenty years, pulled off his coat to avenge upon will the dog's defeat, but the teacher effected a solomon-like compromise by whipping both boys for bringing their dogs to school, after which the interrupted session was resumed. but gobel nursed his wrath, and displayed his enmity in a thousand small ways. will paid no attention to him, but buckled down to his school work. will was a born "lady's man," and when miss mary hyatt complicated the feud 'twixt him and steve, it hurried to its climax. mary was older than will, but she plainly showed her preference for him over master gobel. steve had never distinguished himself in an indian fight; he was not a hero, but just a plain boy. now, indeed, was will's life unendurable; "patience had had its perfect work." he knew that a boy of twelve, however strong and sinewy, was not a match for an almost full-grown man; so, to balance matters, he secreted on his person an old bowie-knife. when next he met steve, the latter climaxed his bullying tactics by striking the object of his resentment; but he was unprepared for the sudden leap that bore him backward to the earth. size and strength told swiftly in the struggle that succeeded, but will, with a dextrous thrust, put the point of the bowie into the fleshy part of steve's lower leg, a spot where he knew the cut would not be serious. the stricken bully shrieked that he was killed; the children gathered round, and screamed loudly at the sight of blood. "will cody has killed steve gobel!" was the wailing cry, and will, though he knew steve was but pinked, began to realize that frontier styles of combat were not esteemed in communities given up to the soberer pursuits of spelling, arithmetic, and history. steve, he knew, was more frightened than hurt; but the picture of the prostrate, ensanguined youth, and the group of awestricken children, bore in upon his mind the truth that his act was an infraction of the civil code; that even in self-defense, he had no right to use a knife unless his life was threatened. the irate pedagogue was hastening to the scene, and after one glance at him, will incontinently fled. at the road he came upon a wagon train, and with a shout of joy recognized in the "boss" john willis, a wagon-master employed by russell, majors & waddell, and a great friend of the "boy extra." will climbed up behind willis on his horse, and related his escapade to a close and sympathetic listener. "if you say so, billy," was his comment, "i'll go over and lick the whole outfit, and stampede the school." "no, let the school alone," replied will; "but i guess i'll graduate, if you'll let me go along with you this trip." willis readily agreed, but insisted upon returning to the schoolhouse. "i m not going," said he, "to let you be beaten by a bully of a boy, and a yankee school-teacher, with a little learning, but not a bit of sand." his idea of equalizing forces was that he and "little billy" should fight against the pedagogue and steve. will consented, and they rode back to the schoolhouse, on the door of which willis pounded with his revolver butt, and when the door was opened he invited gobel and the "grammar man" to come forth and do battle. but steve had gone home, and the teacher, on seeing the two gladiators, fled, while the scholars, dismissing themselves, ran home in a fright. that night mother received a note from the teacher. he was not hired, he wrote, to teach desperadoes; therefore will was dismissed. but will had already dismissed himself, and had rejoined the larger school whose walls are the blue bowl called the sky. and long after was his name used by the pedagogue to conjure up obedience in his pupils; unless they kissed the rod, they, too, might go to the bad, and follow in will cody's erring footsteps. willis and will had gone but a piece on the road when horsemen were seen approaching. "mr. gobel and the officers are after me," said will. "being after you and gittin' you are two different things," said the wagon-master. "lie low, and i'll settle the men." mr. gobel and his party rode up with the information that they had come to arrest will; but they got no satisfaction from willis. he would not allow them to search the wagons, and they finally rode away. that night, when the camp was pitched, the wagon-master gave will a mule, and accompanied him home. we were rejoiced to see him, especially mother, who was much concerned over his escapade. "oh, will, how could you do such a thing?" she said, sorrowfully. "it is a dreadful act to use a knife on any one." will disavowed any homicidal intentions; but his explanations made little headway against mother's disapproval and her disappointment over the interruption of his school career. as it seemed the best thing to do, she consented to his going with the wagon train under the care of john willis, and the remainder of the night was passed in preparations for the journey. chapter viii. -death and burial of turk. this trip of will's covered only two months, and was succeeded by another expedition, to the new post at fort wallace, at cheyenne pass. meanwhile mother had decided to improve the opportunity afforded by her geographical position, and under her supervision "the valley grove house" was going up. the hotel commanded a magnificent prospect. below lay the beautiful salt creek valley. it derived its name from the saline properties of the little stream that rushed along its pebbly bed to empty its clear waters into the muddy missouri. from the vantage-ground of our location salt creek looked like a silver thread, winding its way through the rich verdure of the valley. the region was dotted with fertile farms; from east to west ran the government road, known as the old salt lake trail, and back of us was cody hill, named for my father. our house stood on the side hill, just above the military road, and between us and the hilltop lay the grove that gave the hotel its name. government hill, which broke the eastern sky-line, hid leavenworth and the missouri river, culminating to the south in pilot knob, the eminence on which my father was buried, also beyond our view. mother's business sagacity was justified in the hotel venture. the trail began its half-mile ascent of cody hill just below our house, and at this point the expedient known as "doubling" was employed. two teams hauled a wagon up the steep incline, the double team returning for the wagon left behind. thus the progress of a wagon train, always slow, became a very snail's pace, and the hotel was insured a full quota of hungry trainmen. will found that his wages were of considerable aid to mother in the large expense incurred by the building of the hotel; and the winter drawing on, forbidding further freighting trips, he planned an expedition with a party of trappers. more money was to be made at this business during the winter than at any other time. the trip was successful, and contained only one adventure spiced with danger, which, as was so often the case, will twisted to his own advantage by coolness and presence of mind. one morning, as he was making the round of his traps, three indians appeared on the trail, each leading a pony laden with pelts. one had a gun; the others carried bows and arrows. the odds were three to one, and the brave with the gun was the most to be feared. this indian dropped his bridle-rein and threw up his rifle; but before it was at his shoulder will had fired, and he fell forward on his face. his companions bent their bows, one arrow passing through will's hat and another piercing his arm--the first wound he ever received. will swung his cap about his head. "this way! here they are!" he shouted to an imaginary party of friends at his back. then with his revolver he wounded another of the indians, who, believing reinforcements were at hand, left their ponies and fled. will took the ponies on the double-quick back to camp, and the trappers decided to pull up stakes at once. it had been a profitable season, and the few more pelts to be had were not worth the risk of an attack by avenging indians; so they packed their outfit, and proceeded to fort laramie. will realized a handsome sum from the sale of his captured furs, besides those of the animals he had himself trapped. at the fort were two men bound east, and impatient to set out, and will, in his haste to reach home, joined forces with them. rather than wait for an uncertain wagon train, they decided to chance the dangers of the road. they bought three ponies and a pack-mule for the camp outfit, and sallied forth in high spirits. although the youngest of the party, will was the most experienced plainsman, and was constantly on the alert. they reached the little blue river without sign of indians, but across the stream will espied a band of them. the redskins were as keen of eye, and straightway exchanged the pleasures of the chase for the more exciting pursuit of human game. but they had the river to cross; and this gave the white men a good start. the pursuit was hot, and grew hotter, but the kindly darkness fell, and under cover of it the trio got safely away. that night they camped in a little ravine that afforded shelter from both indians and weather. a look over the ravine disclosed a cave that promised a snug harbor, and therein will and one of his companions spread their blankets and fell asleep. the third man, whose duty it was to prepare the supper, kindled a fire just inside the cave, and returned outside for a supply of fuel. when he again entered the cave the whole interior was revealed by the bright firelight, and after one look he gave a yell of terror, dropped his firewood, and fled. will and the other chap were on their knees instantly, groping for their rifles, in the belief that the indians were upon them; but the sight that met their eyes was more terror-breeding than a thousand indians. a dozen bleached and ghastly skeletons were gathered with them around the camp-fire, and seemed to nod and sway, and thrust their long-chilled bones toward the cheery blaze. ghastly as it was within the cave, will found it more unpleasant in the open. the night was cold, and a storm threatened. "well," said he to his companions, "we know the worst that's in there now. those old dead bones won't hurt us. let's go back." "not if i know myself, sonny," returned one of the men decidedly, and the other heartily agreed with him, swearing that as it was, he should not be able to close his eyes for a week. so, after a hurried lunch upon the cold provisions, the party mounted their ponies and pushed on. the promised snowstorm materialized, and shortly became a young blizzard, and obliged to dismount and camp in the open prairie, they made a miserable night of it. but it had an end, as all things have, and with the morning they resumed the trail, reaching marysville, on the big blue, after many trials and privations. from here the trail was easier, as the country was pretty well settled, and will reached home without further adventure or misadventure. here there was compensation for hardship in the joy of handing over to mother all his money, realizing that it would lighten her burdens--burdens borne that she might leave her children provided for when she could no longer repel the dread messenger, that in all those years seemed to hover so near that even our childish hearts felt its presence ere it actually crossed the threshold. it was early in march when will returned from his trapping expedition. mother's business was flourishing, though she herself grew frailer with the passing of each day. the summer that came on was a sad one for us all, for it marked turk's last days on earth. one evening he was lying in the yard, when a strange dog came up the road, bounded in, gave turk a vicious bite, and went on. we dressed the wound, and thought little of it, until some horsemen rode up, with the inquiry, "have you seen a dog pass here?" we answered indignantly that a strange dog had passed, and had bitten our dog. "better look out for him, then," warned the men as they rode away. "the dog is mad." consternation seized us. it was dreadful to think of turk going mad--he who had been our playmate from infancy, and who, through childhood's years, had grown more dear to us than many human beings could; but mother knew the matter was serious, and issued her commands. turk must be shut up, and we must not even visit him for a certain space. and so we shut him up, hoping for the best; but it speedily became plain that the poison was working in his veins, and that the greatest kindness we could do him was to kill him. that was a frightful alternative. will utterly refused to shoot him, and the execution was delegated to the hired man, will stipulating that none of his weapons should be used, and that he be allowed to get out of ear-shot. late that afternoon, just before sunset, we assembled in melancholy silence for the funeral. a grave had been dug on the highest point of the eastern extremity of cody hill, and decorated in black ribbons, we slowly filed up the steep path, carrying turk's body on a pine board softened with moss. will led the procession with his hat in his hand, and every now and then his fist went savagely at his eyes. when we reached the grave, we formed around it in a tearful circle, and will, who always called me "the little preacher," told me to say the lord's prayer. the sun was setting, and the brilliant western clouds were shining round about us. there was a sighing in the treetops far below us, and the sounds in the valley were muffled and indistinct. "our father which art in heaven," i whispered softly, as all the children bent their heads, "hallowed be thy name. thy kingdom come, thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven." i paused, and the other children said the rest in chorus. the next day will procured a large block of red bloodstone, which abounds in that country, squared it off, carved the name of turk upon it in large letters, and we placed it at the head of the grave. to us there had been no incongruity in the funeral ceremonials and burial. turk had given us all that dog could give; we, for our part, gave him christian sepulture. our sorrow was sincere. we had lost an honest, loyal friend. for many succeeding days his grave was garlanded with fresh flowers, placed there by loving hands. vale turk! would that our friends of the higher evolution were all as stanch as thou! the burial of turk. only a dog! but the tears fall fast. as we lay him to rest underneath the green sod, where bountiful nature, the sweet summer through, will deck him with daisies and bright goldenrod. the loving thought of a boyish heart marks the old dog's grave with a bloodstone red; the name, carved in letters rough and rude, keeps his memory green, though his life be sped. for the daring young hero of wood and plain, like all who are generous, strong, and brave, has a heart that is loyal and kind and true, and shames not to weep o'er his old friend's grave. only a dog, do you say? but i deem a dog who with faithfulness fills his trust, more worthy than many a man to be given a tribute of love, when but ashes and dust. an unusually good teacher now presided at the schoolhouse in our neighborhood, and will was again persuaded into educational paths. he put in a hard winter's work; but with the coming of spring and its unrest, the swelling of buds and the springing of grass, the return of the birds and the twittering from myriad nests, the spirits of the plains beckoned to him, and he joined a party of gold-hunters on the long trail to pike's peak. the gold excitement was at its apogee in 1860. by our house had passed the historic wagon bearing on its side the classic motto, "pike's peak or bust!" afterward, stranded by the wayside, a whole history of failure and disappointment, borne with grim humor, was told by the addition of the eloquent word, "busted!" for all his adventures, will was only fourteen, and although tall for his age, he had not the physical strength that might have been expected from his hardy life. it was not strange that he should take the gold fever; less so that mother should dread to see him again leave home to face unknown perils; and it is not at all remarkable that upon reaching auraria, now denver, he should find that fortunes were not lying around much more promiscuously in a gold country than in any other. recent events have confirmed a belief that under the excitement of a gold craze men exercise less judgment than at any other time. except in placer mining, which almost any one can learn, gold mining is a science. now and again a nugget worth a fortune is picked up, but the average mortal can get a better livelihood, with half the work, in almost any other field of effort. to become rich a knowledge of ores and mining methods is indispensable. but will never reached the gold-fields. almost the first person he met on the streets of julesberg was george chrisman, who had been chief wagon-master for russell, majors & waddell. will had become well acquainted with chrisman on the various expeditions he had made for the firm. this man was located at julesberg as agent for the pony express line, which was in process of formation. this line was an enterprise of russell, majors & waddell. mr. russell met in washington the senator from california. this gentleman knew that the western firm of contractors was running a daily stagecoach from the missouri river to sacramento, and he urged upon mr. russell the desirability of operating a pony express line along the same route. there was already a line known as the "butterfield route," but this was circuitous; the fastest time ever made on it was twenty-one days. mr. russell laid the matter before his partners. they were opposed to it, as they were sure it would be a losing venture; but the senior member urged the matter so strongly that they consented to try it, for the good of the country, with no expectation of profit. they utilized the stagecoach stations already established, and only about two months were required to put the pony express line in running order. riders received from a hundred and twenty to a hundred and twenty-five dollars a month, but they earned it. in order to stand the life great physical strength and endurance were necessary; in addition, riders must be cool, brave, and resourceful. their lives were in constant peril, and they were obliged to do double duty in case the comrade that was to relieve them had been disabled by outlaws or indians. two hundred and fifty miles was the daily distance that must be made; this constituted an average of a little over ten miles an hour. in the exceedingly rough country this average could not be kept up; to balance it, there were a few places in the route where the rider was expected to cover twenty-five miles an hour. in making such a run, it is hardly necessary to say that no extra weight was carried. letters were written on the finest tissue paper; the charge was at the rate of five dollars for half an ounce. a hundred of these letters would make a bulk not much larger than an ordinary writing-tablet. the mail-pouches were never to carry more than twenty pounds. they were leather bags, impervious to moisture; the letters, as a further protection, were wrapped in oiled silk. the pouches were locked, sealed, and strapped to the rider's side. they were not unlocked during the journey from st. joseph to sacramento. the first trip was made in ten days; this was a saving of eleven days over the best time ever made by the "butterfield route." sometimes the time was shortened to eight days; but an average trip was made in nine. the distance covered in this time was nineteen hundred and sixty-six miles. president buchanan's last presidential message was carried in december, 1860, in a few hours over eight days. president lincoln's inaugural, the following march, was transmitted in seven days and seventeen hours. this was the quickest trip ever made. the pony express line made its worth at once felt. it would have become a financial success but that a telegraph line was put into operation over the same stretch of territory, under the direction of mr. edward creighton. the first message was sent over the wires the 24th of october, 1861. the pony express line had outlived its usefulness, and was at once discontinued. but it had accomplished its main purpose, which was to determine whether the route by which it went could be made a permanent track for travel the year through. the cars of the union pacific road now travel nearly the same old trails as those followed by the daring riders of frontier days. mr. chrisman gave will a cordial greeting. he explained the business of the express line to his young friend, and stated that the company had nearly perfected its arrangements. it was now buying ponies and putting them into good condition, preparatory to beginning operations. he added, jokingly: "it's a pity you're not a few years older, billy. i would give you a job as pony express rider. there's good pay in it." will was at once greatly taken with the idea, and begged so hard to be given a trial that mr. chrisman consented to give him work for a month. if the life proved too hard for him, he was to be laid off at the end of that time. he had a short run of forty-five miles; there were three relay stations, and he was expected to make fifteen miles an hour. the 3d of april, 1860, mr. russell stood ready to receive the mail from a fast new york train at st. joseph. he adjusted the letter-pouch on the pony in the presence of an excited crowd. besides the letters, several large new york papers printed special editions on tissue paper for this inaugural trip. the crowd plucked hairs from the tail of the first animal to start on the novel journey, and preserved these hairs as talismans. the rider mounted, the moment for starting came, the signal was given, and off he dashed. at the same moment sacramento witnessed a similar scene; the rider of that region started on the two thousand mile ride eastward as the other started westward. all the way along the road the several other riders were ready for their initial gallop. will looked forward eagerly to the day when the express line should be set in motion, and when the hour came it found him ready, standing beside his horse, and waiting for the rider whom he was to relieve. there was a clatter of hoofs, and a horseman dashed up and flung him the saddlebags. will threw them upon the waiting pony, vaulted into the saddle, and was off like the wind. the first relay station was reached on time, and will changed with hardly a second's loss of time, while the panting, reeking animal he had ridden was left to the care of the stock-tender. this was repeated at the end of the second fifteen miles, and the last station was reached a few minutes ahead of time. the return trip was made in good order, and then will wrote to us of his new position, and told us that he was in love with the life. chapter ix. -will as pony express rider. after being pounded against a saddle three dashes daily for three months, to the tune of fifteen miles an hour, will began to feel a little loose in his joints, and weary withal, but he was determined to "stick it out." besides the daily pounding, the track of the pony express rider was strewn with perils. a wayfarer through that wild land was more likely to run across outlaws and indians than to pass unmolested, and as it was known that packages of value were frequently dispatched by the pony express line, the route was punctuated by ambuscades. will had an eye out every trip for a hold-up, but three months went by before he added that novelty to his other experiences. one day, as he flew around a bend in a narrow pass, he confronted a huge revolver in the grasp of a man who manifestly meant business, and whose salutation was: "halt! throw up your hands!" most people do, and will's hands were raised reluctantly. the highwayman advanced, saying, not unkindly: "i don't want to hurt you, boy, but i do want them bags." money packages were in the saddlebags, and will was minded to save them if he could, so, as the outlaw reached for the booty, will touched the pony with his foot, and the upshot was satisfactory to an unexpected degree. the plunge upset the robber, and as the pony swept over him he got a vicious blow from one hoof. will wheeled for a revolver duel, but the foe was prostrate, stunned, and bleeding at the head. will disarmed the fellow, and pinioned his arms behind him, and then tied up his broken head. will surmised that the prisoner must have a horse hidden hard by, and a bit of a search disclosed it. when he returned with the animal, its owner had opened his eyes and was beginning to remember a few things. will helped him to mount, and out of pure kindness tied him on; then he straddled his own pony, and towed the dismal outfit along with him. it was the first time that he had been behind on his run, but by way of excuse he offered to mr. chrisman a broken-headed and dejected gentleman tied to a horse's back; and chrisman, with a grin, locked the excuse up for future reference. a few days after this episode will received a letter from julia, telling him that mother was ill, and asking him to come home. he at once sought out mr. chrisman, and giving his reason, asked to be relieved. "i'm sorry your mother is sick," was the answer, "but i'm glad something has occurred to make you quit this life. it's wearing you out, billy, and you're too gritty to give it up without a good reason." will reached home to find mother slightly improved. for three weeks was he content to remain idly at home; then (it was november of 1860) his unquiet spirit bore him away on another trapping expedition, this time with a young friend named david phillips. they bought an ox-team and wagon to transport the traps, camp outfit, and provisions, and took along a large supply of ammunition, besides extra rifles. their destination was the republican river. it coursed more than a hundred miles from leavenworth, but the country about it was reputed rich in beaver. will acted as scout on the journey, going ahead to pick out trails, locate camping grounds, and look out for breakers. the information concerning the beaver proved correct; the game was indeed so plentiful that they concluded to pitch a permanent camp and see the winter out. they chose a hollow in a sidehill, and enlarged it to the dimensions of a decent-sized room. a floor of logs was put in, and a chimney fashioned of stones, the open lower part doing double duty as cook-stove and heater; the bed was spread in the rear, and the wagon sheltered the entrance. a corral of poles was built for the oxen, and one corner of it protected by boughs. altogether, they accounted their winter quarters thoroughly satisfactory and agreeable. the boys had seen no indians on their trip out, and were not concerned in that quarter, though they were too good plainsmen to relax their vigilance. there were other foes, as they discovered the first night in their new quarters. they were aroused by a commotion in the corral where the oxen were confined, and hurrying out with their rifles, they found a huge bear intent upon a feast of beef. the oxen were bellowing in terror, one of them dashing crazily about the inclosure, and the other so badly hurt that it could not get up. phillips, who was in the lead, fired first, but succeeded only in wounding the bear. pain was now added to the savagery of hunger, and the infuriated monster rushed upon phillips. dave leaped back, but his foot slipped on a bit of ice, and he went down with a thud, his rifle flying from his hand as he struck. but there was a cool young head and a steady hand behind him. a ball from will's rifle entered the distended mouth of the onrushing bear and pierced the brain, and the huge mass fell lifeless almost across dave's body. phillips's nerves loosened with a snap, and he laughed for very relief as he seized will's hands. "that's the time you saved my life, old fellow!" said he. "perhaps i can do as much for you sometime." "that's the first bear i ever killed," said will, more interested in that topic than in the one dave held forth on. one of the oxen was found to be mortally hurt, and a bullet ended its misery. will then took his first lesson in the gentle art of skinning a bear. dave's chance to square his account with will came a fortnight later. they were chasing a bunch of elk, when will fell, and discovered that he could not rise. "i'm afraid i've broken my leg," said he, as dave ran to him. phillips had once been a medical student, and he examined the leg with a professional eye. "you're right, billy; the leg's broken," he reported. then he went to work to improvise splints and bind up the leg; and this done, he took will on his back and bore him to the dugout. here the leg was stripped, and set in carefully prepared splints, and the whole bound up securely. the outlook was unpleasant, cheerfully as one might regard it. living in the scoop of a sidehill when one is strong and able to get about and keep the blood coursing is one thing; living there pent up through a tedious winter is quite another. dave meditated as he worked away at the pair of crutches. "tell you what i think i'd better do," said he. "the nearest settlement is some hundred miles away, and i can get there and back in twenty days. suppose i make the trip, get a team for our wagon, and come back for you?" the idea of being left alone and well-nigh helpless struck dismay to will's heart, but there was no help for it, and he assented. dave put matters into shipshape, piled wood in the dugout, cooked a quantity of food and put it where will could reach it without rising, and fetched several days' supply of water. mother, ever mindful of will's education, had put some school-books in the wagon, and dave placed these beside the food and water. when phillips finally set out, driving the surviving ox before him, he left behind a very lonely and homesick boy. during the first day of his confinement will felt too desolate to eat, much less to read; but as he grew accustomed to solitude he derived real pleasure from the companionship of books. perhaps in all his life he never extracted so much benefit from study as during that brief period of enforced idleness, when it was his sole means of making the dragging hours endurable. dave, he knew, could not return in less than twenty days, and one daily task, never neglected, was to cut a notch in the stick that marked the humdrum passage of the days. within the week he could hobble about on his crutches for a short distance; after that he felt more secure. a fortnight passed. and one day, weary with his studies, he fell asleep over his books. some one touched his shoulder, and looking up, he saw an indian in war paint and feathers. "how?" said will, with a show of friendliness, though he knew the brave was on the war-path. half a score of bucks followed at the heels of the first, squeezing into the little dugout until there was barely room for them to sit down. with a sinking heart will watched them enter, but he plucked up spirit again when the last, a chief, pushed in, for in this warrior he recognized an indian that he had once done a good turn. whatever lo's faults, he never forgets a kindness any more than he forgets an injury. the chief, who went by the name of rain-in-the-face, at once recognized will, and asked him what he was doing in that place. will displayed his bandages, and related the mishap that had made them necessary, and refreshed the chief's memory of a certain occasion when a blanket and provisions had drifted his way. rain-in-the-face replied, with proper gravity, that he and his chums were out after scalps, and confessed to designs upon will's, but in consideration of auld lang syne he would spare the paleface boy. auld lang syne, however, did not save the blankets and provisions, and the bedizened crew stripped the dugout almost bare of supplies; but will was thankful enough to see the back of the last of them. two days later a blizzard set in. will took an inventory, and found that, economy considered, he had food for a week; but as the storm would surely delay dave, he put himself on half rations. three weeks were now gone, and he looked for dave momentarily; but as night followed day, and day grew into night again, he was given over to keen anxiety. had phillips lost his way? had he failed to locate the snow-covered dugout? had he perished in the storm? had he fallen victim to indians? these and like questions haunted the poor lad continually. study became impossible, and he lost his appetite for what food there was left; but the tally on the stick was kept. the twenty-ninth day dawned. starvation stalked into the dugout. the wood, too, was nigh gone. but great as was will's physical suffering, his mental distress was greater. he sat before a handful of fire, shivering and hungry, wretched and despondent. hark! was that his name? choking with emotion, unable to articulate, he listened intently. yes; it was his name, and dave's familiar voice, and with all his remaining energy he made an answering call. his voice enabled phillips to locate the dugout, and a passage was cleared through the snow. and when will saw the door open, the tension on his nerves let go, and he wept--"like a girl," as he afterward told us. "god bless you, dave!" he cried, as he clasped his friend around the neck. chapter x. -echoes from sumter. the guns that opened on fort sumter set the country all ablaze. in kansas, where blood had already been shed, the excitement reached an extraordinary pitch. will desired to enlist, but mother would not listen to the idea. my brother had never forgotten the vow made in the post-trader's, and now with the coming of war his opportunity seemed ripe and lawful; he could at least take up arms against father's old-time enemies, and at the same time serve his country. this aspect of the case was presented to mother in glowing colors, backed by most eloquent pleading; but she remained obdurate. "you are too young to enlist, willie," she said. "they would not accept you, and if they did, i could not endure it. i have only a little time to live; for my sake, then, wait till i am no more before you enter the army." this request was not to be disregarded, and will promised that he would not enlist while mother lived. kansas had long been the scene of bitter strife between the two parties, and though there was a preponderance of the free-soil element when it was admitted to the union in 1861, we were fated to see some of the horrors of slavery. suffering makes one wondrous kind; mother had suffered so much herself that the misery of others ever vibrated a chord of sympathy in her breast, and our house became a station on "the underground railway." many a fugitive slave did we shelter, many here received food and clothing, and, aided by mother, a great number reached safe harbors. one old man, named uncle tom, became so much attached to us that he refused to go on. we kept him as help about the hotel. he was with us several months, and we children grew very fond of him. every evening when supper was over, he sat before the kitchen fire and told a breathless audience strange stories of the days of slavery. and one evening, never to be forgotten, uncle tom was sitting in his accustomed place, surrounded by his juvenile listeners, when he suddenly sprang to his feet with a cry of terror. some men had entered the hotel sitting-room, and the sound of their voices drove uncle tom to his own little room, and under the bed. "mrs. cody," said the unwelcome visitors, "we understand that you are harboring our runaway slaves. we propose to search the premises; and if we find our property, you cannot object to our removing it." mother was sorely distressed for the unhappy uncle tom, but she knew objection would be futile. she could only hope that the old colored man had made good his escape. but no! uncle tom lay quaking under his bed, and there his brutal master found him. it is not impossible that there were slaveholders kind and humane, but the bitter curse of slavery was the open door it left for brutality and inhumanity; and never shall i forget the barbarity displayed by the owner of uncle tom before our horrified eyes. the poor slave was so old that his hair was wholly white; yet a rope was tied to it, and, despite our pleadings, he was dragged from the house, every cry he uttered evoking only a savage kick from a heavy riding-boot. when he was out of sight, and his screams out of hearing, we wept bitterly on mother's loving breast. uncle tom again escaped, and made his way to our house, but he reached it only to die. we sorrowed for the poor old slave, but thanked god that he had passed beyond the inhumanity of man. debarred from serving his country as a soldier, will decided to do so in some other capacity, and accordingly took service with a united states freight caravan, transporting supplies to fort laramie. on this trip his frontier training and skill as a marksman were the means of saving a life. in western travel the perils from outlaws and indians were so real that emigrants usually sought the protection of a large wagon-train. several families of emigrants journeyed under the wing of the caravan to which will was attached. when in camp one day upon the bank of the platte river, and the members of the company were busied with preparations for the night's rest and the next day's journey, mamie perkins, a little girl from one of the emigrant families, was sent to the river for a pail of water. a moment later a monster buffalo was seen rushing upon the camp. a chorus of yells and a fusillade from rifles and revolvers neither checked nor swerved him. straight through the camp he swept, like a cyclone, leaping ropes and boxes, overturning wagons, and smashing things generally. mamie, the little water-bearer, had filled her pail and was returning in the track selected by the buffalo. too terrified to move, she watched, with white face and parted lips, the maddened animal sweep toward her, head down and tail up, its hoofs beating a thunderous tattoo on the plain. will had been asleep, but the commotion brought him to his feet, and snatching up his rifle, he ran toward the little girl, aimed and fired at the buffalo. the huge animal lurched, staggered a few yards farther, then dropped within a dozen feet of the terrified child. a shout of relief went up, and while a crowd of praising men gathered about the embryo buffalo-hunter, mamie was taken to her mother. will never relished hearing his praises sung, and as the camp was determined to pedestal him as a hero, he ran away and hid in his tent. upon reaching fort laramie, will's first business was to look up alf slade, agent of the pony express line, whose headquarters were at horseshoe station, twenty miles from the fort. he carried a letter of recommendation from mr. russell, but slade demurred. "you're too young for a pony express rider," said he. "i rode three months a year ago, sir, and i'm much stronger now," said will. "oh, are you the boy rider that was on chrisman's division?" "yes, sir." "all right; i'll try you. if you can't stand it, i 'll give you something easier." will's run was from red buttes, on the north platte, to three crossings, on the sweetwater--seventy-six miles. the wilderness was of the kind that is supposed to howl, and no person fond of excitement had reason to complain of lack of it. one day will arrived at his last station to find that the rider on the next run had been mortally hurt by indians. there being no one else to do it, he volunteered to ride the eighty-five miles for the wounded man. he accomplished it, and made his own return trip on time--a continuous ride of three hundred and twenty-two miles. there was no rest for the rider, but twenty-one horses were used on the run--the longest ever made by a pony express rider. shortly afterward will fell in with california joe, a remarkable frontier character. he was standing beside a group of bowlders that edged the trail when will first clapped eyes on him, and the pony express man instantly reached for his revolver. the stranger as quickly dropped his rifle, and held up his hands in token of friendliness. will drew rein, and ran an interested eye over the man, who was clad in buckskin. california joe, who was made famous in general custer's book, entitled "life on the plains," was a man of wonderful physique, straight and stout as a pine. his red-brown hair hung in curls below his shoulders; he wore a full beard, and his keen, sparkling eyes were of the brightest hue. he came from an eastern family, and possessed a good education, somewhat rusty from disuse. "hain't you the boy rider i has heard of--the youngest rider on the trail?" he queried, in the border dialect. will made an affirmative answer, and gave his name. "waal," said joe, "i guess you've got some money on this trip. i was strikin' fer the big horn, and i found them two stiffs up yonder layin' fer ye. we had a little misunderstandin', and now i has 'em to plant." will thanked him warmly, and begged him not to risk the perils of the big horn; but california joe only laughed, and told him to push ahead. when will reached his station he related his adventure, and the stock-tender said it was "good by, california joe" but will had conceived a better opinion of his new friend, and he predicted his safe return. this confidence was justified by the appearance of california joe, three months later, in the camp of the pony riders on the overland trail. he received a cordial greeting, and was assured by the men that they had not expected to see him alive again. in return he told them his story, and a very interesting story it was. "some time ago," said he (i shall not attempt to reproduce his dialect), "a big gang of gold-hunters went into the big horn country. they never returned, and the general sent me to see if i could get any trace of them. the country is full of indians, and i kept my eye skinned for them, but i wasn't looking for trouble from white men. i happened to leave my revolver where i ate dinner one day, and soon after discovering the loss i went back after the gun. just as i picked it up i saw a white man on my trail. i smelled trouble, but turned and jogged along as if i hadn't seen anything. that night i doubled back over my trail until i came to the camp where the stranger belonged. as i expected, he was one of a party of three, but they had five horses. i'll bet odds, pard billy"--this to will--"that the two pilgrims laying for you belonged to this outfit. "they thought i'd found gold, and were going to follow me until i struck the mine, then do me up and take possession. "the gold is there, too, lots of it. there's silver, iron, copper, and coal, too, but no one will look at them so long as gold is to be had; but those that go for gold will, many of them, leave their scalps behind. "we kept the trail day after day; the men stuck right to me, the chap ahead keeping me in sight and marking out the trail for his pard. when we got into the heart of the indian country i had to use every caution; i steered clear of every smoke that showed a village or camp, and didn't use my rifle on game, depending on the rations i had with me. "at last i came to a spot that showed signs of a battle. skulls and bones were strewn around, and after a look about i was satisfied beyond doubt that white men had been of the company. the purpose of my trip was accomplished; i could safely report that the party of whites had been exterminated by indians. "the question now was, could i return without running into indians? the first thing was to give my white pursuers the slip. "that night i crept down the bed of a small stream, passed their camp, and struck the trail a half mile or so below. "it was the luckiest move i ever made. i had ridden but a short distance when i heard the familiar war-whoop, and knew that the indians had surprised my unpleasant acquaintances and taken their scalps. i should have shared the same fate if i hadn't moved. "but, boys, it is a grand and beautiful country, full of towering mountains, lovely valleys, and mighty trees." about the middle of september the indians became very troublesome along the sweetwater. will was ambushed one day, but fortunately he was mounted on one of the fleetest of the company's horses, and lying flat on the animal's back, he distanced the redskins. at the relay station he found the stock-tender dead, and as the horses had been driven off, he was unable to get a fresh mount; so he rode the same horse to plontz station, twelve miles farther. a few days later the station boss of the line hailed will with the information: "there's injun signs about; so keep your eyes open." "i'm on the watch, boss," was will's answer, as he exchanged ponies and dashed away. the trail ran through a grim wild. it was darkened by mountains, overhung with cliffs, and fringed with monster pines. the young rider's every sense had been sharpened by frontier dangers. each dusky rock and tree was scanned for signs of lurking foes as he clattered down the twilight track. one large bowlder lay in plain view far down the valley, and for a second he saw a dark object appear above it. he kept his course until within rifle-shot, and then suddenly swerved away in an oblique line. the ambush had failed, and a puff of smoke issued from behind the bowlder. two braves, in gorgeous war paint, sprang up, and at the same time a score of whooping indians rode out of timber on the other side of the valley. before will the mountains sloped to a narrow pass; could he reach that he would be comparatively safe. the indians at the bowlder were unmounted, and though they were fleet of foot, he easily left them behind. the mounted reds were those to be feared, and the chief rode a very fleet pony. as they neared the pass will saw that it was life against life. he drew his revolver, and the chief, for his part, fitted an arrow to his bow. will was a shade the quicker. his revolver cracked, and the warrior pitched dead from his saddle. his fall was the signal for a shower of arrows, one of which wounded the pony slightly; but the station was reached on time. the indians were now in evidence all the time. between split rock and three crossings they robbed a stage, killed the driver and two passengers, and wounded lieutenant flowers, the assistant division agent. they drove the stock from the stations, and continually harassed the pony express riders and stage-drivers. so bold did the reds become that the pony riders were laid off for six weeks, though stages were to make occasional runs if the business were urgent. a force was organized to search for missing stock. there were forty men in the party--stage-drivers, express-riders, stock-tenders, and ranchmen; and they were captained by a plainsman named wild bill, who was a good friend of will for many years. he had not earned the sobriquet through lawlessness. it merely denoted his dashing and daring. physically he was well-nigh faultless--tall, straight, and symmetrical, with broad shoulders and splendid chest. he was handsome of face, with a clear blue eye, firm and well-shaped mouth, aquiline nose, and brown, curling hair, worn long upon his shoulders. born of a refined and cultured family, he, like will, seemingly inherited from some remote ancestor his passion for the wild, free life of the plains. at this time wild bill was a well-known scout, and in this capacity served the united states to good purpose during the war. chapter xi. -a short but dashing indian campaign. as will was one of the laid-off riders, he was allowed to join the expedition against the indian depredators, though he was the youngest member of the company. the campaign was short and sharp. the indian trail was followed to powder river, and thence along the banks of the stream the party traveled to within forty miles of the spot where old fort reno now stands; from here the trail ran westerly, at the foot of the mountains, and was crossed by crazy woman's fork, a tributary of the powder. originally this branch stream went by the name of the big beard, because of a peculiar grass that fringed it. on its bank had stood a village of the crow indians, and here a half-breed trader had settled. he bought the red man's furs, and gave him in return bright-colored beads and pieces of calico, paints, and blankets. in a short time he had all the furs in the village; he packed them on ponies, and said good by to his indian friends. they were sorry to see him go, but he told them he would soon return from the land of the paleface, bringing many gifts. months passed; one day the indian sentinels reported the approach of a strange object. the village was alarmed, for the crows had never seen ox, horse, or wagon; but the excitement was allayed when it was found that the strange outfit was the property of the half-breed trader. he had brought with him his wife, a white woman; she, too, was an object of much curiosity to the indians. the trader built a lodge of wood and stones, and exposed all his goods for sale. he had brought beads, ribbons, and brass rings as gifts for all the tribe. one day the big chief visited the store; the trader led him into a back room, swore him to secrecy, and gave him a drink of black water. the chief felt strangely happy. usually he was very dignified and stately; but under the influence of the strange liquid he sang and danced on the streets, and finally fell into a deep sleep, from which he could not be wakened. this performance was repeated day after day, until the indians called a council of war. they said the trader had bewitched their chief, and it must be stopped, or they would kill the intruder. a warrior was sent to convey this intelligence to the trader; he laughed, took the warrior into the back room, swore him to secrecy, and gave him a drink of the black water. the young indian, in his turn, went upon the street, and laughed and sang and danced, just as the chief had done. surprised, his companions gathered around him and asked him what was the matter. "oh, go to the trader and get some of the black water!" said he. they asked for the strange beverage. the trader denied having any, and gave them a drink of ordinary water, which had no effect. when the young warrior awoke, they again questioned him. he said he must have been sick, and have spoken loosely. after this the chief and warrior were both drunk every day, and all the tribe were sorely perplexed. another council of war was held, and a young chief arose, saying that he had made a hole in the wall of the trader's house, and had watched; and it was true the trader gave their friends black water. the half-breed and the two unhappy indians were brought before the council, and the young chief repeated his accusation, saying that if it were not true, they might fight him. the second victim of the black water yet denied the story, and said the young chief lied; but the trader had maneuvered into the position he desired, and he confessed. they bade him bring the water, that they might taste it; but before he departed the young chief challenged to combat the warrior that had said he lied. this warrior was the best spearsman of the tribe, and all expected the death of the young chief; but the black water had palsied the warrior's arm, his trembling hand could not fling true, he was pierced to the heart at the first thrust. the tribe then repaired to the trader's lodge, and he gave them all a drink of the black water. they danced and sang, and then lay upon the ground and slept. after two or three days the half-breed declined to provide black water free; if the warriors wanted it, they must pay for it. at first he gave them a "sleep," as they called it, for one robe or skin, but as the stock of black water diminished, two, then three, then many robes were demanded. at last he said he had none left except what he himself desired. the indians offered their ponies, until the trader had all the robes and all the ponies of the tribe. now, he said, he would go back to the land of the paleface and procure more of the black water. some of the warriors were willing he should do this; others asserted that he had plenty of black water left, and was going to trade with their enemy, the sioux. the devil had awakened in the tribe. the trader's stores and packs were searched, but no black water was found. 'twas hidden, then, said the indians. the trader must produce it, or they would kill him. of course he could not do this. he had sowed the wind; he reaped the whirlwind. he was scalped before the eyes of his horrified wife, and his body mutilated and mangled. the poor woman attempted to escape; a warrior struck her with his tomahawk, and she fell as if dead. the indians fired the lodge. as they did so, a crow squaw saw that the white woman was not dead. she took the wounded creature to her own lodge, bound up her wounds, and nursed her back to strength. but the unfortunate woman's brain was crazed, and could not bear the sight of a warrior. as soon as she could get around she ran away. the squaws went out to look for her, and found her crooning on the banks of the big beard. she would talk with the squaws, but if a warrior appeared, she hid herself till he was gone. the squaws took her food, and she lived in a covert on the bank of the stream for many months. one day a warrior, out hunting, chanced upon her. thinking she was lost, he sought to catch her, to take her back to the village, as all indian tribes have a veneration for the insane; but she fled into the hills, and was never seen afterward. the stream became known as the "place of the crazy woman," or crazy woman's fork, and has retained the name to this day. at this point, to return to my narrative, the signs indicated that reinforcements had reached the original body of indians. the plainsmen were now in the heart of the indian country, the utmost caution was required, and a sharp lookout was maintained. when clear creek, another tributary of the powder, was come up with, an indian camp, some three miles distant, was discovered on the farther bank. a council of war was held. never before had the white man followed the red so far into his domain, and 'twas plain the indian was off his guard; not a scout was posted. at wild bill's suggestion, the attack waited upon nightfall. veiled by darkness, the company was to surprise the indian camp and stampede the horses. the plan was carried out without a hitch. the indians outnumbered the white men three to one, but when the latter rushed cyclonically through the camp, no effort was made to repel them, and by the time the indians had recovered from their surprise the plainsmen had driven off all the horses--those belonging to the reds as well as those that had been stolen. a few shots were fired, but the whites rode scathless away, and unpursued. the line of march was now taken up for sweetwater bridge, and here, four days later, the plainsmen brought up, with their own horses and about a hundred indian ponies. this successful sadly repressed the hostilities for a space. the recovered horses were put back on the road, and the stage-drivers and express-riders resumed their interrupted activity. "billy," said mr. slade, who had taken a great fancy to will--"billy, this is a hard life, and you're too young to stand it. you've done good service, and in consideration of it i'll make you a supernumerary. you'll have to ride only when it's absolutely necessary." there followed for will a period of _dolce far niente_; days when he might lie on his back and watch the clouds drift across the sky; when he might have an eye to the beauty of the woodland and the sweep of the plain, without the nervous strain of studying every tree and knoll that might conceal a lurking redskin. winter closed in, and with it came the memories of the trapping season of 1860-61, when he had laid low his first and last bear. but there were other bears to be killed--the mountains were full of them; and one bracing morning he turned his horse's head toward the hills that lay down the horseshoe valley. antelope and deer fed in the valley, the sage-hen and the jack-rabbit started up under his horse's hoofs, but such small game went by unnoticed. two o'clock passed without a sign of bear, save some tracks in the snow. the wintry air had put a keen edge on will's appetite, and hitching his tired horse, he shot one of the lately scorned sage-hens, and broiled it over a fire that invited a longer stay than an industrious bear-hunter could afford. but nightfall found him and his quarry still many miles asunder, and as he did not relish the prospect of a chaffing from the men at the station, he cast about for a camping-place, finding one in an open spot on the bank of a little stream. two more sage-hens were added to the larder, and he was preparing to kindle a fire when the whinnying of a horse caught his ear. he ran to his own horse to check the certain response, resaddled him, and disposed everything for flight, should it be necessary. then, taking his rifle, he put forth on a reconnoissance. he shortly came upon a bunch of horses, a dozen or more, around a crook of the stream. above them, on the farther bank, shone a light. drawing nearer, he saw that it came from a dugout, and he heard his own language spoken. reassured, he walked boldly up to the door and rapped. silence--followed by a hurried whispering, and the demand: "who's there?" "friend and white man," answered will. the door opened reluctantly, and an ugly-looking customer bade him enter. the invitation was not responded to with alacrity, for eight such villainous-looking faces as the dugout held it would have been hard to match. too late to retreat, there was nothing for it but a determined front, and let wit point the way of escape. two of the men will recognized as discharged teamsters from lew simpson's train, and from his knowledge of their longstanding weakness he assumed, correctly, that he had thrust his head into a den of horsethieves. "who's with you?" was the first query; and this answered, with sundry other information esteemed essential, "where's your horse?" demanded the most striking portrait in the rogues' gallery. "down by the creek," said will. "all right, sonny; we'll go down and get him," was the obliging rejoinder. "oh, don't trouble yourself," said will. "i'll fetch him and put up here over night, with your permission. i'll leave my gun here till i get back." "that's right; leave your gun, you won't need it," said the leader of the gang, with a grin that was as near amiability as his rough, stern calling permitted him. "jim and i will go down with you after the horse." this offer compelled an acquiescence, will consoling himself with the reflection that it is easier to escape from two men than from eight. when the horse was reached, one of the outlaws obligingly volunteered to lead it. "all right," said will, carelessly. "i shot a couple of sage-hens here; i'll take them along. lead away!" he followed with the birds, the second horsethief bringing up the rear. as the dugout was neared he let fall one of the hens, and asked the chap following to pick it up, and as the obliging rear guard stopped, will knocked him senseless with the butt of his revolver. the man ahead heard the blow, and turned, with his hand on his gun, but will dropped him with a shot, leaped on his horse, and dashed off. the sextet in the dugout sprang to arms, and came running down the bank, and likely getting the particulars of the escape from the ruffian by the sage-hen, who was probably only stunned for the moment, they buckled warmly to the chase. the mountain-side was steep and rough, and men on foot were better than on horseback; accordingly will dismounted, and clapping his pony soundly on the flank, sent him clattering on down the declivity, and himself stepped aside behind a large pine. the pursuing party rushed past him, and when they were safely gone, he climbed back over the mountain, and made his way as best he could to the horseshoe. it was a twenty-five mile plod, and he reached the station early in the morning, weary and footsore. he woke the plainsmen, and related his adventure, and mr. slade at once organized a party to hunt out the bandits of the dugout. twenty well-armed stock-tenders, stage-drivers, and ranchmen rode away at sunrise, and, notwithstanding his fatigue, will accompanied them as guide. but the ill-favored birds had flown; the dugout was deserted. will soon tired of this nondescript service, and gladly accepted a position as assistant wagon-master under wild bill, who had taken a contract to fetch a load of government freight from rolla, missouri. he returned with a wagon-train to springfield, in that state, and thence came home on a visit. it was a brief one, however, for the air was too full of war for him to endure inaction. contented only when at work, he continued to help on government freight contracts, until he received word that mother was dangerously ill. then he resigned his position and hastened home. chapter xii. -the mother's last illness. it was now the autumn of 1863, and will was a well-grown young man, tall, strong, and athletic, though not yet quite eighteen years old. our oldest sister, julia, had been married, the spring preceding, to mr. j. a. goodman. mother had been growing weaker from day to day; being with her constantly, we had not remarked the change for the worse; but will was much shocked by the transformation which a few months had wrought. only an indomitable will power had enabled her to overcome the infirmities of the body, and now it seemed to us as if her flesh had been refined away, leaving only the sweet and beautiful spirit. will reached home none too soon, for only three weeks after his return the doctor told mother that only a few hours were left to her, and if she had any last messages, it were best that she communicate them at once. that evening the children were called in, one by one, to receive her blessing and farewell. mother was an earnest christian character, but at that time i alone of all the children appeared religiously disposed. young as i was, the solemnity of the hour when she charged me with the spiritual welfare of the family has remained with me through all the years that have gone. calling me to her side, she sought to impress upon my childish mind, not the sorrow of death, but the glory of the resurrection. then, as if she were setting forth upon a pleasant journey, she bade me good by, and i kissed her for the last time in life. when next i saw her face it was cold and quiet. the beautiful soul had forsaken its dwelling-place of clay, and passed on through the invisible, to wait, a glorified spirit, on the farther shore for the coming of the loved ones whose life-story was as yet unfinished. julia and will remained with her throughout the night. just before death there came to her a brief season of long-lost animation, the last flicker of the torch before darkness. she talked to them almost continuously until the dawn. into their hands was given the task of educating the others of the family, and on their hearts and consciences the charge was graven. charlie, who was born during the early kansas troubles, had ever been a delicate child, and he lay an especial burden on her mind. "if," she said, "it be possible for the dead to call the living, i shall call charlie to me." within the space of a year, charlie, too, was gone; and who shall say that the yearning of a mother's heart for her child was not stronger than the influences of the material world? upon will mother sought to impress the responsibilities of his destiny. she reminded him of the prediction of the fortune-teller, that "his name would be known the world over." "but," said she, "only the names of them that are upright, brave, temperate, and true can be honorably known. remember always that 'he that overcometh his own soul is greater than he who taketh a city.' already you have shown great abilities, but remember that they carry with them grave responsibilities. you have been a good son to me. in the hour of need you have always aided me so that i can die now feeling that my children are not unprovided for. i have not wished you to enlist in the war, partly because i knew you were too young, partly because my life was drawing near its close. but now you are nearly eighteen, and if when i am gone your country needs you in the strife of which we in kansas know the bitterness, i bid you go as soldier in behalf of the cause for which your father gave his life." she talked until sleep followed exhaustion. when she awoke she tried to raise herself in bed. will sprang to aid her, and with the upward look of one that sees ineffable things, she passed away, resting in his arms. oh, the glory and the gladness of a life without a fear; of a death like nature fading in the autumn of the year; of a sweet and dreamless slumber, in a faith triumphant borne, till the bells of easter wake her on the resurrection morn! ah, for such a blessed falling into quiet sleep at last, when the ripening grain is garnered, and the toil and trial past; when the red and gold of sunset slowly changes into gray; ah, for such a quiet passing, through the night into the day! the morning of the 22d day of november, 1863, began the saddest day of our lives. we rode in a rough lumber wagon to pilot knob cemetery, a long, cold, hard ride; but we wished our parents to be united in death as they had been in life, so buried mother in a grave next to father's. the road leading from the cemetery forked a short distance outside of leavenworth, one branch running to that city, the other winding homeward along government hill. when we were returning, and reached this fork, will jumped out of the wagon. "i can't go home when i know mother is no longer there," said he. "i am going to leavenworth to see eugene hathaway. i shall stay with him to-night." we, pitied will--he and mother had been so much to each other--and raised no objection, as we should have done had we known the real purpose of his visit. the next morning, therefore, we were much surprised to see him and eugene ride into the yard, both clothed in, the blue uniforms of united states soldiers. overwhelmed with grief over mother's death, it seemed more than we could bear to see our big brother ride off to war. we threatened to inform the recruiting officers that he was not yet eighteen; but he was too thoroughly in earnest to be moved by our objections. the regiment in which he had enlisted was already ordered to the front, and he had come home to say good by. he then rode away to the hardships, dangers, and privations of a soldier's life. the joy of action balanced the account for him, while we were obliged to accept the usual lot of girlhood and womanhood--the weary, anxious waiting, when the heart is torn with uncertainty and suspense over the fate of the loved ones who bear the brunt and burden of the day. the order sending will's regiment to the front was countermanded, and he remained for a time in fort leavenworth. his western experiences were well known there, and probably for this reason he was selected as a bearer of military dispatches to fort larned. some of our old pro-slavery enemies, who were upon the point of joining the confederate army, learned of will's mission, which they thought afforded them an excellent chance to gratify their ancient grudge against the father by murdering the son. the killing could be justified on the plea of service rendered to their cause. accordingly a plan was made to waylay will and capture his dispatches at a creek he was obliged to ford. he received warning of this plot. on such a mission the utmost vigilance was demanded at all times, and with an ambuscade ahead of him, he was alertness itself. his knowledge of indian warfare stood him in good stead now. not a tree, rock, or hillock escaped his keen glance. when he neared the creek at which the attack was expected, he left the road, and attempted to ford the stream four or five hundred yards above the common crossing, but found it so swollen by recent rains that he was unable to cross; so he cautiously picked his way back to the trail. the assassins' camp was two or three hundred feet away from the creek. darkness was coming on, and he took advantage of the shelter afforded by the bank, screening himself behind every clump of bushes. his enemies would look for his approach from the other direction, and he hoped to give them the slip and pass by unseen. when he reached the point where he could see the little cabin where the men were probably hiding, he ran upon a thicket in which five saddle-horses were concealed. "five to one! i don't stand much show if they see me," he decided as he rode quietly and slowly along, his carbine in his hand ready for use. "there he goes, boys! he's at the ford!" came a sudden shout from the camp, followed by the crack of a rifle. two or three more shots rang out, and from the bound his horse gave will knew one bullet had reached a mark. he rode into the water, then turned in his saddle and aimed like a flash at a man within range. the fellow staggered and fell, and will put spurs to his horse, turning again only when the stream was crossed. the men were running toward the ford, firing as they came, and getting a warm return fire. as will was already two or three hundred yards in advance, pursuers on foot were not to be feared, and he knew that before they could reach and mount their horses he would be beyond danger. much depended on his horse. would the gallant beast, wounded as he was, be able to long maintain the fierce pace he had set? mile upon mile was put behind before the stricken creature fell. will shouldered the saddle and bridle and continued on foot. he soon reached a ranch where a fresh mount might be procured, and was shortly at fort larned. after a few hours' breathing-spell, he left for fort leavenworth with return dispatches. as he drew near the ford, he resumed his sharp lookout, though scarcely expecting trouble. the planners of the ambuscade had been so certain that five men could easily make away with one boy that there had been no effort at disguise, and will had recognized several of them. he, for his part, felt certain that they would get out of that part of the country with all dispatch; but he employed none the less caution in crossing the creek, and his carbine was ready for business as he approached the camp. the fall of his horse's hoofs evoked a faint call from one of the buildings. it was not repeated; instead there issued hollow moans. it might be a trap; again, a fellow-creature might be at death's door. will rode a bit nearer the cabin entrance. "who's there?" he called. "come in, for the love of god! i am dying here alone!" was the reply. "who are you?" "ed norcross." will jumped from his horse. this was the man at whom he had fired. he entered the cabin. "what is the matter?" he asked. "i was wounded by a bullet," moaned norcross, "and my comrades deserted me." will was now within range of the poor fellow lying on the floor. "will cody!" he cried. will dropped on his knee beside the dying man, choking with the emotion that the memory of long years of friendship had raised. "my poor ed!" he murmured. "and it was my bullet that struck you." "it was in defense of your own life, will," said norcross. "god knows, i don't blame you. don't think too hard of me. i did everything i could to save you. it was i who sent you warning. i hoped you might find some other trail." "i didn't shoot with the others," continued norcross, after a short silence. "they deserted me. they said they would send help back, but they haven't." will filled the empty canteen lying on the floor, and rearranged the blanket that served as a pillow; then he offered to dress the neglected wound. but the gray of death was already upon the face of norcross. "never mind, will," he whispered; "it's not worth while. just stay with me till i die." it was not a long vigil. will sat beside his old friend, moistening his pallid lips with water. in a very short time the end came. will disposed the stiffening limbs, crossing the hands over the heart, and with a last backward look went out of the cabin. it was his first experience in the bitterness and savagery of war, and he set a grave and downcast face against the remainder of his journey. as he neared leavenworth he met the friend who had conveyed the dead man's warning message, and to him he committed the task of bringing home the body. his heaviness of spirit was scarcely mitigated by the congratulations of the commander of fort leavenworth upon his pluck and resources, which had saved both his life and the dispatches. there followed another period of inaction, always irritating to a lad of will's restless temperament. meantime, we at home were having our own experiences. we were rejoiced in great measure when sister julia decided that we had learned as much as might be hoped for in the country school, and must thereafter attend the winter and spring terms of the school at leavenworth. the dresses she cut for us, however, still followed the country fashion, which has regard rather to wear than to appearance, and we had not been a day in the city school before we discovered that our apparel had stamped "provincial" upon us in plain, large characters. in addition to this, our brother-in-law, in his endeavor to administer the estate economically, bought each of us a pair of coarse calfskin shoes. to these we were quite unused, mother having accustomed us to serviceable but pretty ones. the author of our "extreme" mortification, totally ignorant of the shy and sensitive nature of girls, only laughed at our protests, and in justice to him it may be said that he really had no conception of the torture he inflicted upon us. we turned to will. in every emergency he was our first thought, and here was an emergency that taxed his powers to an extent we did not dream of. he made answer to our letter that he was no longer an opulent trainman, but drew only the slender income of a soldier, and even that pittance was in arrears. disappointment was swallowed up in remorse. had we reflected how keenly he must feel his inability to help us, we would not have sent him the letter, which, at worst, contained only a sly suggestion of a fine opportunity to relieve sisterly distress. all his life he had responded to our every demand; now allegiance was due his country first. but, as was always the way with him, he made the best of a bad matter, and we were much comforted by the receipt of the following letter: "my dear sisters: "i am sorry that i cannot help you and furnish you with such clothes as you wish. at this writing i am so short of funds myself that if an entire mississippi steamer could be bought for ten cents i couldn't purchase the smokestack. i will soon draw my pay, and i will send it, every cent, to you. so brave it out, girls, a little longer. in the mean time i will write to al. "lovingly, "will." we were comforted, yes; but my last hope was gone, and i grew desperate. i had never worn the obnoxious shoes purchased by my guardian, and i proceeded to dispose of them forever. i struck what i regarded as a famous bargain with an accommodating hebrew, and came into possession of a pair of shiny morocco shoes, worth perhaps a third of what mine had cost. one would say they were designed for shoes, and they certainly looked like shoes, but as certainly they were not wearable. still they were of service, for the transaction convinced my guardian that the truest economy did not lie in the pur-chasing of calfskin shoes for at least one of his charges. a little later he received a letter from will, presenting our grievances and advocating our cause. will also sent us the whole of his next month's pay as soon as he drew it. in february, 1864, sherman began his march through mississippi. the seventh kansas regiment, known as "jennison's jayhawkers," was reorganized at fort leavenworth as veterans, and sent to memphis, tenn., to join general a. j. smith's command, which was to operate against general forrest and cover the retreat of general sturgis, who had been so badly whipped by forrest at cross-roads. will was exceedingly desirous of engaging in a great battle, and through some officers with whom he was acquainted preferred a petition to be transferred to this regiment. the request was granted, and his delight knew no bounds. he wrote to us that his great desire was about to be gratified, that he should soon know what a real battle was like. he was well versed in indian warfare; now he was ambitious to learn, from experience, the superiority of civilized strife--rather, i should say, of strife between civilized people. general smith had acquainted himself with the record made by the young scout of the plains, and shortly after reaching memphis he ordered will to report to headquarters for special service. "i am anxious," said the general, "to gain reliable information concerning the enemy's movements and position. this can only be done by entering the confederate camp. you possess the needed qualities--nerve, coolness, resource--and i believe you could do it." "you mean," answered will, quietly, "that you wish me to go as a spy into the rebel camp." "exactly. but you must understand the risk you run. if you are captured, you will be hanged." "i am ready to take the chances, sir," said will; "ready to go at once, if you wish." general smith's stern face softened into a smile at the prompt response. "i am sure, cody," said he, kindly, "that if any one can go through safely, you will. dodging indians on the plains was good training for the work in hand, which demands quick intelligence and ceaseless vigilance. i never require such service of any one, but since you volunteer to go, take these maps of the country to your quarters and study them carefully. return this evening for full instructions." during the few days his regiment had been in camp, will had been on one or two scouting expeditions, and was somewhat familiar with the immediate environments of the union forces. the maps were unusually accurate, showing every lake, river, creek, and highway, and even the by-paths from plantation to plantation. only the day before, while on a reconnoissance, will had captured a confederate soldier, who proved to be an old acquaintance named nat golden. will had served with nat on one of russell, majors & waddell's freight trains, and at one time had saved the young man's life, and thereby earned his enduring friendship. nat was born in the east, became infected with western fever, and ran away from home in order to become a plainsman. "well, this is too bad," said will, when he recognized his old friend. "i would rather have captured a whole regiment than you. i don't like to take you in as a prisoner. what did you enlist on the wrong side for, anyway?" "the fortunes of war, billy, my boy," laughed nat. "friend shall be turned against friend, and brother against brother, you know. you wouldn't have had me for a prisoner, either, if my rifle hadn't snapped; but i'm glad it did, for i shouldn't want to be the one that shot you." "well, i don't want to see you strung up," said will; "so hand me over those papers you have, and i will turn you in as an ordinary prisoner." nat's face paled as he asked, "do you think i'm a spy, billy?" "i know it." "well," was the reply, "i've risked my life to obtain these papers, but i suppose they will be taken from me anyway; so i might as well give them up now, and save my neck." examination showed them to be accurate maps of the location and position of the union army; and besides the maps, there were papers containing much valuable information concerning the number of soldiers and officers and their intended movements. will had not destroyed these papers, and he now saw a way to use them to his own advantage. when he reported for final instructions, therefore, at general smith's tent, in the evening, will said to him: "i gathered from a statement dropped by the prisoner captured yesterday, that a confederate spy has succeeded in making out and carrying to the enemy a complete map of the position of our regiment, together with some idea of the projected plan of campaign." "ah," said the general; "i am glad that you have put me on my guard. i will at once change my position, so that the information will be of no value to them." then followed full instructions as to the duty required of the volunteer. "when will you set out?" asked the general. "to-night, sir. i have procured my uniform, and have everything prepared for an early start." "going to change your colors, eh?" "yes, for the time being, but not my principles." the general looked at will approvingly. "you will need all the wit, pluck, nerve, and caution of which you are possessed to come through this ordeal safely," said he. "i believe you can accomplish it, and i rely upon you fully. good by, and success go with you!" after a warm hand-clasp, will returned to his tent, and lay down for a few hours' rest. by four o'clock he was in the saddle, riding toward the confederate lines. chapter xiii. -in the secret-service. in common walks of life to play the spy is an ignoble role; yet the work has to be done, and there must be men to do it. there always are such men--nervy fellows who swing themselves into the saddle when their commander lifts his hand, and ride a mad race, with death at the horse's flank every mile of the way. they are the unknown heroes of every war. it was with a full realization of the dangers confronting him that will cantered away from the union lines, his borrowed uniform under his arm. as soon as he had put the outposts behind him, he dismounted and exchanged the blue clothes for the gray. life on the plains had bronzed his face. for aught his complexion could tell, the ardent southern sun might have kissed it to its present hue. then, if ever, his face was his fortune in good part; but there was, too, a stout heart under his jacket, and the light of confidence in his eyes. the dawn had come up when he sighted the confederate outposts. what lay beyond only time could reveal; but with a last reassuring touch of the papers in his pocket, he spurred his horse up to the first of the outlying sentinels. promptly the customary challenge greeted him: "halt! who goes there?" "friend." "dismount, friend! advance and give the countersign!" "haven't the countersign," said will, dropping from his horse, "but i have important information for general forrest. take me to him at once." "are you a confederate soldier?" "not exactly. but i have some valuable news about the yanks, i reckon. better let me see the general." "thus far," he added to himself, "i have played the part. the combination of 'yank' and 'i reckon' ought to establish me as a promising candidate for confederate honors." his story was not only plausible, but plainly and fairly told; but caution is a child of war, and the sentinel knew his business. the pseudo-confederate was disarmed as a necessary preliminary, and marched between two guards to headquarters, many curious eyes (the camp being now astir) following the trio. when forrest heard the report, he ordered the prisoner brought before him. one glance at the general's handsome but harsh face, and the young man steeled his nerves for the encounter. there was no mercy in those cold, piercing eyes. this first duel of wits was the one to be most dreaded. unless confidence were established, his after work must be done at a disadvantage. the general's penetrating gaze searched the young face before him for several seconds. "well, sir," said he, "what do you want with me?" yankee-like, the reply was another question: "you sent a man named nat golden into the union lines, did you not, sir?" "and if i did, what then?" "he is an old friend of mine. he tried for the union camp to verify information that he had received, but before he started he left certain papers with me in case he should be captured." "ah!" said forrest, coldly. "and he was captured?" "yes, sir; but, as i happen to know, he wasn't hanged, for these weren't on him." as he spoke, will took from his pocket the papers he had obtained from golden, and passed them over with the remark, "golden asked me to take them to you." general forrest was familiar with the hapless golden's handwriting, and the documents were manifestly genuine. his suspicion was not aroused. "these are important papers," said he, when he had run his eye over them. "they contain valuable information, but we may not be able to use it, as we are about to change our location. do you know what these papers contain?" "every word," was the truthful reply. "i studied them, so that in case they were destroyed you would still have the information from me." "a wise thing to do," said forrest, approvingly. "are you a soldier?" "i have not as yet joined the army, but i am pretty well acquainted with this section, and perhaps could serve you as a scout." "um!" said the general, looking the now easy-minded young man over. "you wear our uniform." "it's golden's," was the second truthful answer. "he left it with me when he put on the blue." "and what is your name?" "frederick williams." pretty near the truth. only a final "s" and a rearrangement of his given names. "very well," said the general, ending the audience; "you may remain in camp. if i need you, i'll send for you." he summoned an orderly, and bade him make the volunteer scout comfortable at the couriers' camp. will breathed a sigh of relief as he followed at the orderly's heels. the ordeal was successfully passed. the rest was action. two days went by. in them will picked up valuable information here and there, drew maps, and was prepared to depart at the first favorable opportunity. it was about time, he figured, that general forrest found some scouting work for him. that was a passport beyond the lines, and he promised himself the outposts should see the cleanest pair of heels that ever left unwelcome society in the rear. but evidently scouting was a drug in the general's market, for the close of another day found will impatiently awaiting orders in the couriers' quarters. this sort of inactivity was harder on the nerves than more tangible perils, and he about made up his mind that when he left camp it would be without orders, but with a hatful of bullets singing after him. and he was quite sure that his exit lay that way when, strolling past headquarters, he clapped eyes on the very last person that he expected or wished to see--nat golden. and nat was talking to an adjutant-general! there were just two things to do, knock golden on the head, or cut and run. nat would not betray him knowingly, but unwittingly was certain to do so the moment general forrest questioned him. there could be no choice between the two courses open; it was cut and run, and as a preliminary will cut for his tent. first concealing his papers, he saddled his horse and rode toward the outposts with a serene countenance. {illust. caption = "now ride for your lives!"} the same sergeant that greeted him when he entered the lines chanced to be on duty, and of him will asked an unimportant question concerning the outer-flung lines. yet as he rode along he could not forbear throwing an apprehensive glance behind. no pursuit was making, and the farthest picket-line was passed by a good fifty yards. ahead was a stretch of timber. suddenly a dull tattoo of horses' hoofs caught his ear, and he turned to see a small cavalcade bearing down upon him at a gallop. he sank the spurs into his horse's side and plunged into the timber. it was out of the frying-pan into the fire. he ran plump into a half-dozen confederate cavalrymen, guarding two union prisoners. "men, a union spy is escaping!" shouted will. "scatter at once, and head him off. i'll look after your prisoners." there was a ring of authority in the command; it came at least from a petty officer; and without thought of challenging it, the cavalrymen hurried right and left in search of the fugitive. "come," said will, in a hurried but smiling whisper to the dejected pair of union men. "i'm the spy! there!" cutting the ropes that bound their wrists. "now ride for your lives!" off dashed the trio, and not a minute too soon. will's halt had been brief, but it had been of advantage to his pursuers, who, with nat golden at their head, came on in full cry, not a hundred yards behind. here was a race with death at the horse's flanks. the timber stopped a share of the singing bullets, but there were plenty that got by the trees, one of them finding lodgment in the arm of one of the fleeing union soldiers. capture meant certain death for will; for his companions it meant andersonville or libby, at the worst, which was perhaps as bad as death; but will would not leave them, though his horse was fresh, and he could easily have distanced them. of course, if it became necessary, he was prepared to cut their acquaintance, but for the present he made one of the triplicate targets on which the galloping marksmen were endeavoring to score a bull's-eye. the edge of the wood was shortly reached, and beyond--inspiring sight!--lay the outposts of the union army. the pickets, at sight of the fugitives, sounded the alarm, and a body of blue-coats responded. will would have gladly tarried for the skirmish that ensued, but he esteemed it his first duty to deliver the papers he had risked his life to obtain; so, leaving friend and foe to settle the dispute as best they might, he put for the clump of trees where he had hidden his uniform, and exchanged it for the gray, that had served its purpose and was no longer endurable. under his true colors he rode into camp. general forrest almost immediately withdrew from that neighborhood, and after the atrocious massacre at fort pillow, on the 12th of april, left the state. general smith was recalled, and will was transferred, with the commission of guide and scout for the ninth kansas regiment. the indians were giving so much trouble along the line of the old santa fe trail that troops were needed to protect the stagecoaches, emigrants, and caravans traveling that great highway. like nearly all our indian wars, this trouble was precipitated by the injustice of the white man's government of certain of the native tribes. in 1860 colonel a. g. boone, a worthy grandson of the immortal daniel, made a treaty with the comanches, kiowas, cheyennes, and arapahoes, and at their request he was made agent. during his wise, just, and humane administration all of these savage nations were quiet, and held the kindliest feelings toward the whites. any one could cross the plains without fear of molestation. in 1861 a charge of disloyalty was made against colonel boone by judge wright, of indiana, and he succeeded in having the right man removed from the right place. russell, majors & waddell, recognizing his influence over the indians, gave him fourteen hundred acres of land near pueblo, colorado. colonel boone moved there, and the place was named booneville. fifty chieftains from the tribes referred to visited colonel boone in the fall of 1862, and implored him to return to them. he told them that the president had sent him away. they offered to raise money, by selling their horses, to send him to washington, to tell the great father what their agent was doing--that he stole their goods and sold them back again; and they bade the colonel say that there would be trouble unless some one were put in the dishonest man's place. with the innate logic for which the indian is noted, they declared that they had as much right to steal from passing caravans as the agent had to steal from them. no notice was taken of so trifling a matter as an injustice to the indian. the administration had its hands more than full in the attempt to right the wrongs of the negro. in the fall of 1863 a caravan passed along the trail. it was a small one, but the indians had been quiet for so long a time that travelers were beginning to lose fear of them. a band of warriors rode up to the wagon-train and asked for something to eat. the teamsters thought they would be doing humanity a service if they killed a redskin, on the ancient principle that "the only good indian is a dead one." accordingly, a friendly, inoffensive indian was shot. the bullet that reached his heart touched that of every warrior in these nations. every man but one in the wagon-train was slain, the animals driven off, and the wagons burned. the fires of discontent that had been smoldering for two years in the red man's breast now burst forth with volcanic fury. hundreds of atrocious murders followed, with wholesale destruction of property. the ninth kansas regiment, under the command of colonel clark, was detailed to protect the old trail between fort lyon and fort larned, and as guide and scout will felt wholly at home. he knew the indian and his ways, and had no fear of him. his fine horse and glittering trappings were an innocent delight to him; and who will not pardon in him the touch of pride--say vanity--that thrilled him as he led his regiment down the arkansas river? during the summer there were sundry skirmishes with the indians. the same old vigilance, learned in earlier days on the frontier, was in constant demand, and there was many a rough and rapid ride to drive the hostiles from the trail. whatever colonel clark's men may have had to complain of, there was no lack of excitement, no dull days, in that summer. in the autumn the seventh kansas was again ordered to the front, and at the request of its officers will was detailed for duty with his old regiment. general smith's orders were that he should go to nashville. rosecrans was then in command of the union forces in missouri. his army was very small, numbering only about 6,500 men, while the confederate general price was on the point of entering the state with 20,000. this superiority of numbers was so great that general smith received an order countermanding the other, and remained in missouri, joining forces with rosecrans to oppose price. rosecrans's entire force still numbered only 11,000, and he deemed it prudent to concentrate his army around st. louis. general ewing's forces and a portion of general smith's command occupied pilot knob. on monday, the 24th of september, 1864, price advanced against this position, but was repulsed with heavy losses. an adjacent fort in the neighborhood of ironton was assaulted, but the confederate forces again sustained a severe loss. this fort held a commanding lookout on shepard mountain, which the confederates occupied, and their wall-directed fire obliged general ewing to fall back to harrison station, where he made a stand, and some sharp fighting followed. general ewing again fell back, and succeeded in reaching general mcneill, at rolla, with the main body of his troops. this was will's first serious battle, and it so chanced that he found himself opposed at one point by a body of missouri troops numbering many of the men who had been his father's enemies and persecutors nine years before. in the heat of the conflict he recognized more than one of them, and with the recognition came the memory of his boyhood's vow to avenge his father's death. three of those men fell in that battle; and whether or not it was he who laid them low, from that day on he accounted himself freed of his melancholy obligation. after several hard-fought battles, price withdrew from missouri with the remnant of his command--seven thousand where there had been twenty. during this campaign will received honorable mention "for most conspicuous bravery and valuable service upon the field," and he was shortly brought into favorable notice in many quarters. the worth of the tried veterans was known, but none of the older men was in more demand than will. his was seemingly a charmed life. often was he detailed to bear dispatches across the battlefield, and though horses were shot under him--riddled by bullets or torn by shells--he himself went scathless. during this campaign, too, he ran across his old friend of the plains, wild bill. stopping at a farm-house one day to obtain a meal, he was not a little surprised to hear the salutation: "well, billy, my boy, how are you?" he looked around to see a hand outstretched from a coat-sleeve of confederate gray, and as he knew wild bill to be a stanch unionist, he surmised that he was engaged upon an enterprise similar to his own. there was an exchange of chaffing about gray uniforms and blue, but more serious talk followed. "take these papers, billy," said wild bill, passing over a package. "take 'em to general mcneill, and tell him i'm picking up too much good news to keep away from the confederate camp." "don't take too many chances," cautioned will, well knowing that the only chances the other would not take would be the sort that were not visible. colonel hickok, to give him his real name, replied, with a laugh: "practice what you preach, my son. your neck is of more value than mine. you have a future, but mine is mostly past. i'm getting old." at this point the good woman of the house punctuated the colloquy with a savory meal, which the pair discussed with good appetite and easy conscience, in spite of their hostess's refusal to take pay from confederate soldiers. "as long as i have a crust in the house," said she, "you boys are welcome to it." but the pretended confederates paid her for her kindness in better currency than she was used to. they withheld information concerning a proposed visit of her husband and son, of which, during one spell of loquacity, she acquainted them. the bread she cast upon the waters returned to her speedily. the two friends parted company, will returning to the union lines, and colonel hickok to the opposing camp. a few days later, when the confederate forces were closing up around the union lines, and a battle was at hand, two horsemen were seen to dart out of the hostile camp and ride at full speed for the northern lines. for a space the audacity of the escape seemed to paralyze the confederates; but presently the bullets followed thick and fast, and one of the saddles was empty before the rescue party--of which will was one--got fairly under way. as the survivor drew near, will shouted: "it's wild bill, the union scout." a cheer greeted the intrepid colonel hickok, and he rode into camp surrounded by a party of admirers. the information he brought proved of great value in the battle of pilot knob (already referred to), which almost immediately followed. chapter xiv. a rescue and a betrothal. after the battle of pilot knob will was assigned, through the influence of general polk, to special service at military headquarters in st. louis. mrs. polk had been one of mother's school friends, and the two had maintained a correspondence up to the time of mother's death. as soon as mrs. polk learned that the son of her old friend was in the union army, she interested herself in obtaining a good position for him. but desk-work is not a pony express rush, and will found the st. louis detail about as much to his taste as clerking in a dry-goods store. his new duties naturally became intolerable, lacking the excitement and danger-scent which alone made his life worth while to him. one event, however, relieved the dead-weight monotony of his existence; he met louise frederici, the girl who became his wife. the courtship has been written far and wide with blood-and-thunder pen, attended by lariat-throwing and runaway steeds. in reality it was a romantic affair. more than once, while out for a morning canter, will had remarked a young woman of attractive face and figure, who sat her horse with the grace of diana vernon. now, few things catch will's eye more quickly than fine horsemanship. he desired to establish an acquaintance with the young lady, but as none of his friends knew her, he found it impossible. at length a chance came. her bridle-rein broke one morning; there was a runaway, a rescue, and then acquaintance was easy. from war to love, or from love to war, is but a step, and will lost no time in taking it. he was somewhat better than an apprentice to dan cupid. if the reader remembers, he went to school with steve gobel. true, his opportunities to enjoy feminine society had not been many, which; perhaps, accounts for the promptness with which he embraced them when they did arise. he became the accepted suitor of miss louise frederici before the war closed and his regiment was mustered out. the spring of 1865 found him not yet twenty, and he was sensible of the fact that before he could dance at his own wedding he must place his worldly affairs upon a surer financial basis than falls to the lot of a soldier; so, much as he would have enjoyed remaining in st. louis, fortune pointed to wider fields, and he set forth in search of remunerative and congenial employment. first, there was the visit home, where the warmest of welcomes awaited him. during his absence the second sister, eliza, had married a mr. myers, but the rest of us were at the old place, and the eagerness with which we awaited will's home-coming was stimulated by the hope that he would remain and take charge of the estate. before we broached this subject, however, he informed us of his engagement to miss frederici, which, far from awakening jealousy, aroused our delight, julia voicing the sentiment of the family in the comment: "when you're married, will, you will have to stay at home." this led to the matter of his remaining with us to manage the estate--and to the upsetting of our plans. the pay of a soldier in the war was next to nothing, and as will had been unable to put any money by, he took the first chance that offered to better his fortunes. this happened to be a job of driving horses from leavenworth to fort kearny, and almost the first man he met after reaching the fort was an old plains friend, bill trotter. "you're just the chap i've been looking for," said trotter, when he learned that will desired regular work. "i'm division station agent here, but stage-driving is dangerous work, as the route is infested with indians and outlaws. several drivers have been held up and killed lately, so it's not a very enticing job, but the pay's good, and you know the country. if any one can take the stage through, you can. do you want the job?" when a man is in love and the wedding-day has been dreamed of, if not set, life takes on an added sweetness, and to stake it against the marksmanship of indian or outlaw is not, perhaps, the best use to which it may be put. will had come safely through so many perils that it seemed folly to thrust his head into another batch of them, and thinking of louise and the coming wedding-day, his first thought was no. but it was the old story, and there was trotter at his elbow expressing confidence in his ability as a frontiersman--an opinion will fully shared, for a man knows what he can do. the pay was good, and the sooner earned the sooner would the wedding be, and trotter received the answer he expected. the stage line was another of the western enterprises projected by russell, majors & waddell. when gold was discovered on pike's peak there was no method of traversing the great western plain except by plodding ox-team, mule-pack, or stagecoach. a semi-monthly stage line ran from st. joseph to salt lake city, but it was poorly equipped and very tedious, oftentimes twenty-one days being required to make the trip. the senior member of the firm, in partnership with john s. jones, of missouri, established a new line between the missouri river and denver, at that time a straggling mining hamlet. one thousand kentucky mules were bought, with a sufficient number of coaches to insure a daily run each way. the trip was made in six days, which necessitated travel at the rate of a hundred miles a day. the first stage reached denver on may 17, 1859. it was accounted a remarkable achievement, and the line was pronounced a great success. in one way it was; but the expense of equipping it had been enormous, and the new line could not meet its obligations. to save the credit of their senior partner, russell, majors & waddell were obliged to come to the rescue. they bought up all the outstanding obligations, and also the rival stage line between st. joseph and salt lake city. they consolidated the two, and thereby hoped to put the overland stage route on a paying basis. st. joseph now became the starting-point of the united lines. from there the road went to fort kearny, and followed the old salt lake trail, already described in these pages. after leaving salt lake it passed through camp floyd, ruby valley, carson city, placerville, and folsom, and ended in sacramento. the distance from st. joseph to sacramento by this old stage route was nearly nineteen hundred miles. the time required by mail contracts and the government schedule was nineteen days. the trip was frequently made in fifteen, but there were so many causes for detention that the limit was more often reached. each two hundred and fifty miles of road was designated a "division," and was in charge of an agent, who had great authority in his own jurisdiction. he was commonly a man of more than ordinary intelligence, and all matters pertaining to his division were entirely under his control. he hired and discharged employee, purchased horses, mules, harness, and food, and attended to their distribution at the different stations. he superintended the erection of all buildings, had charge of the water supply, and he was the paymaster. there was also a man known as the conductor, whose route was almost coincident with that of the agent. he sat with the driver, and often rode the whole two hundred and fifty miles of his division without any rest or sleep, except what he could catch sitting on the top of the flying coach. the coach itself was a roomy, swaying vehicle, swung on thorough-braces instead of springs. it always had a six-horse or six-mule team to draw it, and the speed was nerve-breaking. passengers were allowed twenty-five pounds of baggage, and that, with the mail, express, and the passengers themselves, was in charge of the conductor. the overland stagecoaches were operated at a loss until 1862. in march of that year russell, majors & waddell transferred the whole outfit to ben holliday. here was a typical frontiersman, of great individuality and character. at the time he took charge of the route the united states mail was given to it. this put the line on a sound financial basis, as the government spent $800,000 yearly in transporting the mail to san francisco. will reported for duty the morning after his talk with trotter, and when he mounted the stage-box and gathered the reins over the six spirited horses, the passengers were assured of an expert driver. his run was from fort kearny to plum creek. the country was sharply familiar. it was the scene of his first encounter with indians. a long and lonely ride it was, and a dismal one when the weather turned cold; but it meant a hundred and fifty dollars a month; and each pay day brought him nearer to st. louis. indian signs there had been right along, but they were only signs until one bleak day in november. he pulled out of plum creek with a sharp warning ringing in his ears. indians were on the war-path, and trouble was more likely than not ahead. lieutenant flowers, assistant division agent, was on the box with him, and within the coach were six well-armed passengers. half the run had been covered, when will's experienced eye detected the promised red men. before him lay a stream which must be forded. the creek was densely fringed with underbrush, and along this the indians were skulking, expecting to cut the stage off at the only possible crossing. perhaps this is a good place to say a word concerning the seemingly extraordinary fortune that has stood by will in his adventures. not only have his own many escapes been of the hairbreadth sort, but he has arrived on the scene of danger at just the right moment to rescue others from extinction. of course, an element of luck has entered into these affairs, but for the most part they simply proved the old saying that an ounce of prevention is better than a pound of cure. will had studied the plains as an astronomer studies the heavens. the slightest disarrangement of the natural order of things caught his eye. with the astronomer, it is a comet or an asteroid appearing upon a field whose every object has long since been placed and studied; with will, it was a feathered headdress where there should have been but tree, or rock, or grass; a moving figure where nature should have been inanimate. when seen, those things were calculated as the astronomer calculates the motion of the objects that he studies. a planet will arrive at a given place at a certain time; an indian will reach a ford in a stream in about so many minutes. if there be time to cross before him, it is a matter of hard driving; if the odds are with the indian, that is another matter. a less experienced observer than will would not have seen the skulking redskins; a less skilled frontiersman would not have apprehended their design; a less expert driver would not have taken the running chance for life; a less accurate marksman would not have picked off an indian with a rifle while shooting from the top of a swinging, jerking stagecoach. will did not hesitate. a warning shout to the passengers, and the whip was laid on, and off went the horses full speed. seeing that they had been discovered, the indians came out into the open, and ran their ponies for the ford, but the stage was there full five hundred yards before them. it was characteristic of their driver that the horses were suffered to pause at the creek long enough to get a swallow of water; then, refreshed, they were off at full speed again. the coach, creaking in every joint, rocked like a captive balloon, the unhappy passengers were hurled from one side of the vehicle to the other, flung into one another's laps, and occasionally, when some uncommon obstacle sought to check the flying coach, their heads collided with its roof. the indians menaced them without, cracked skulls seemed their fate within. will plied the whip relentlessly, and so nobly did the powerful horses respond that the indians gained but slowly on them. there were some fifty redskins in the band, but will assumed that if he could reach the relay station, the two stock-tenders there, with himself, lieutenant flowers, and the passengers, would be more than a match for the marauders. when the pursuers drew within fair rifle range, will handed the reins to the lieutenant, swung round in his seat, and fired at the chief. "there," shouted one of the passengers, "that fellow with the feathers is shot!" and another fusillade from the coach interior drove holes in the air. the relay station was now hard by, and attracted by the firing, the stock-tenders came forth to take a hand in the engagement. disheartened by the fall of their chief, the indians weakened at the sign of reinforcements, and gave up the pursuit. lieutenant flowers and two of the passengers were wounded, but will could not repress a smile at the excited assurance of one of his fares that they (the passengers) had "killed one indian and driven the rest back." the stock-tenders smiled also, but said nothing. it would have been too bad to spoil such a good story. the gravest fears for the safety of the coach had been expressed when it was known that the reds were on the war-path; it was not thought possible that it could get through unharmed, and troops were sent out to scour the country. these, while too late to render service in the adventure just related, did good work during the remainder of the winter. the indians were thoroughly subdued, and will saw no more of them. there was no other adventure of special note until february. just before will started on his run, trotter took him to one side and advised him that a small fortune was going by the coach that day, and extra vigilance was urged, as the existence of the treasure might have become known. "i'll do the best i can," said will; and he had scarcely driven away when he suspected the two ill-favored passengers he carried. the sudden calling away of the conductor, whereby he was left alone, was a suspicious circumstance. he properly decided that it would be wiser for him to hold up his passengers than to let them hold up him, and he proceeded to take time by the forelock. he stopped the coach, jumped down, and examined the harness as if something was wrong; then he stepped to the coach door and asked his passengers to hand him a rope that was inside. as they complied, they looked into the barrels of two cocked revolvers. "hands up!" said will. "what's the matter with you?" demanded one of the pair, as their arms were raised. "thought i'd come in first--that's all," was the answer. the other was not without appreciation of humor. "you're a cute one, youngster," said he, "but you'll find more'n your match down the road, or i miss my guess." "i'll look after that when i get to it," said will. "will you oblige me by tying your friend's hands? thank you. now throw out your guns. that all? all right. let me see your hands." when both outlaws had been securely trussed up and proven to be disarmed, the journey was resumed. the remark dropped by one of the pair was evidence that they were part of the gang. he must reach the relay station before the attack. if he could do that, he had a plan for farther on. the relay station was not far away, and was safely reached. the prisoners were turned over to the stock-tenders, and then will disposed of the treasure against future molestation. he cut open one of the cushions of the coach, taking out part of the filling, and in the cavity thus made stored everything of value, including his own watch and pocketbook; then the filling was replaced and the hole smoothed to a natural appearance. if there were more in the gang, he looked for them at the ford where the indians had sought to cut him off, and he was not disappointed. as he drew near the growth of willows that bordered the road, half a dozen men with menacing rifles stepped out. "halt, or you're a dead man!" was the conventional salutation, in this case graciously received. "well, what do you want?" asked will. "the boodle you carry. fork it over!" "gentlemen," said will, smiling, "this is a case where it takes a thief to catch a thief." "what's that?" cried one of the outlaws, his feelings outraged by the frank description. "not that i'm the thief," continued will, "but your pals were one too many for you this time." "did they rob you?" howled the gang in chorus, shocked by such depravity on the part of their comrades. "if there's anything left in the coach worth having, don't hesitate to take it," offered will, pleasantly. "where's your strong-box?" demanded the outlaws, loath to believe there was no honor among thieves. will drew it forth and exposed its melancholy emptiness. the profanity that ensued was positively shocking. "where did they hold you up?" demanded the leader of the gang. "eight or nine miles back. you'll find some straw in the road. you can have that, too." "were there horses to meet them?" "on foot the last i saw them." "then we can catch 'em, boys," shouted the leader, hope upspringing in his breast. "come, let's be off!" they started for the willows on the jump, and presently returned, spurring their horses. "give them my regards!" shouted will. but only the thud! thud! of horsehoofs answered him. retribution was sweeping like a hawk upon its prey. will pushed along to the end of his run, and handed over his trust undisturbed. fearing that his ruse might have been discovered, he put the "extra vigilance" urged by trotter into the return trip, but the trail was deserted. he picked up the prisoners at the relay station and carried them to fort kearny. if their companions were to discover the sorry trick played upon them, they would have demanded his life as a sacrifice. at the end of this exciting trip he found a letter from miss frederici awaiting him. she urged him to give up the wild life he was leading, return east, and find another calling. this was precisely what will himself had in mind, and persuasion was not needed. in his reply he asked that the wedding-day be set, and then he handed trotter his resignation from the lofty perch of a stage-driver. "i don't like to let you go," objected trotter. "but," said will, "i took the job only in order to save enough money to get married on." "in that case," said trotter, "i have nothing to do but wish you joy." chapter xv. -will as a benedict. when will reached home, he found another letter from miss frederici, who, agreeably to his request, had fixed the wedding-day, march 6, 1866. the wedding ceremony was quietly performed at the home of the bride, and the large number of friends that witnessed it united in declaring that no handsomer couple ever bowed for hymen's benediction. the bridal journey was a trip to leavenworth on a missouri steamer. at that time there was much travel by these boats, and their equipment was first-class. they were sumptuously fitted out, the table was excellent, and except when sectional animosities disturbed the serenity of their decks, a trip on one of them was a very pleasant excursion. the young benedict soon discovered, however, that in war times the "trail of the serpent" is liable to be over all things; even a wedding journey is not exempt from the baneful influence of sectional animosity. a party of excursionists on board the steamer manifested so extreme an interest in the bridal couple that louise retired to a stateroom to escape their rudeness. after her withdrawal, will entered into conversation with a gentleman from indiana, who had been very polite to him, and asked him if he knew the reason for the insolence of the excursion party. the gentleman hesitated a moment, and then answered: "to tell the truth, mr. cody, these men are missourians, and say they recognize you as one of jennison's jayhawkers; that you were an enemy of the south, and are, therefore, an enemy of theirs." will answered, steadily: "i was a soldier during the war, and a scout in the union army, but i had some experience of southern chivalry before that time." and he related to the indianian some of the incidents of the early kansas border warfare, in which he and his father had played so prominent a part. the next day the insolent behavior was continued. will was much inclined to resent it, but his wife pleaded so earnestly with him to take no notice of it that he ignored it. in the afternoon, when the boat landed at a lonely spot to wood up, the missourians seemed greatly excited, and all gathered on the guards and anxiously scanned the riverbank. the roustabouts were just about to make the boat fast, when a party of armed horsemen dashed out of the woods and galloped toward the landing. the captain thought the boat was to be attacked, and hastily gave orders to back out, calling the crew on board at the same time. these orders the negroes lost no time in obeying, as they often suffered severely at the hands of these reckless marauders. the leader of the horsemen rode rapidly up, firing at random. as he neared the steamer he called out, "where is that kansas jayhawker? we have come for him." the other men caught sight of will, and one of them cried, "we know you, bill cody." but they were too late. already the steamer was backing away from the shore, dragging her gang-plank through the water; the negro roustabouts were too much terrified to pull it in. when the attacking party saw their plans were frustrated, and that they were balked of their prey, they gave vent to their disappointment in yells of rage. a random volley was fired at the retreating steamer, but it soon got out of range, and continued on its way up the river. will had prepared himself for the worst; he stood, revolver in hand, at the head of the steps, ready to dispute the way with his foes. there was also a party of old soldiers on board, six or eight in number; they were dressed in civilians' garb, and will knew nothing of them; but when they heard of their comrade's predicament, they hastily prepared to back up the young scout. happily the danger was averted, and their services were not called into requisition. the remainder of the trip was made without unpleasant incident. it was afterward learned that as soon as the missourians became aware of the presence of the union scout on board, they telegraphed ahead to the james and younger brothers that will was aboard the boat, and asked to have a party meet it at this secluded landing, and capture and carry off the young soldier. will feared that louise might be somewhat disheartened by such an occurrence on the bridal trip, but the welcome accorded the young couple on their arrival at leavenworth was flattering enough to make amends for all unpleasant incidents. the young wife found that her husband numbered his friends by the score in his own home; and in the grand reception tendered them he was the lion of the hour. entreated by louise to abandon the plains and pursue a vocation along more peaceful paths, will conceived the idea of taking up the business in which mother had won financial success--that of landlord. the house she had built was purchased after her death by dr. crook, a surgeon in the seventh kansas regiment. it was now for rent, which fact no doubt decided will in his choice of an occupation. it was good to live again under the roof that had sheltered his mother in her last days; it was good to see the young wife amid the old scenes. so will turned boniface, and invited may and me to make our home with him. there was a baby in julia's home, and it had so wound itself around may's heartstrings that she could not be enticed away; but there was never anybody who could supplant will in my heart; so i gladly accepted his invitation. thoreau has somewhere drawn a sympathetic portrait of the landlord, who is supposed to radiate hospitality as the sun throws off heat--as its own reward--and who feeds and lodges men purely from a love of the creatures. yet even such a landlord, if he is to continue long in business, must have an eye to profit, and make up in one corner what he parts with in another. now, will radiated hospitality, and his reputation as a lover of his fellowman got so widely abroad that travelers without money and without price would go miles out of their way to put up at his tavern. socially, he was an irreproachable landlord; financially, his shortcomings were deplorable. and then the life of an innkeeper, while not without its joys and opportunities to love one's fellowman, is somewhat prosaic, and our guests oftentimes remarked an absent, far-away expression in the eyes of landlord cody. he was thinking of the plains. louise also remarked that expression, and the sympathy she felt for his yearnings was accentuated by an examination of the books of the hostelry at the close of the first six months' business. half smiling, half tearful, she consented to his return to his western life. will disposed of the house and settled his affairs, and when all the bills were paid, and sister lou and i cozily ensconced in a little home at leavenworth, we found that will's generous thought for our comfort through the winter had left him on the beach financially. he had planned a freighting trip on his own account, but the acquiring of a team, wagon, and the rest of the outfit presented a knotty problem when he counted over the few dollars left on hand. for the first time i saw disappointment and discouragement written on his face, and i was sorely distressed, for he had never denied me a desire that he could gratify, and it was partly on my account that he was not in better financial condition. i was not yet sixteen; it would be two years more before i could have a say as to the disposition of my own money, yet something must be done at once. i decided to lay the matter before lawyer douglass. surely he could suggest some plan whereby i might assist my brother. i had a half-matured plan of my own, but i was assured that will would not listen to it. mr. douglass had been the legal adviser of the family since he won our first lawsuit, years before. we considered the problem from every side, and the lawyer suggested that mr. buckley, an old friend of the family, had a team and wagon for sale; they were strong and serviceable, and just the thing that will would likely want. i was a minor, but if mr. buckley was willing to accept me as security for the property, there would be no difficulty in making the transfer. mr. buckley proved entirely agreeable to the proposition. will could have the outfit in return for his note with my indorsement. that disposed of, the question of freight to put into the wagon arose. i thought of another old friend of the family, m. e. albright, a wholesale grocer in leavenworth. would he trust will for a load of supplies? he would. thus everything was arranged satisfactorily, and i hastened home to not the easiest task--to prevail upon will to accept assistance at the hands of the little sister who, not so long ago, had employed his aid in the matter of a pair of shoes. but will could really do nothing save accept, and proud and happy, he sallied forth one day as an individual freighter, though not a very formidable rival of russell, majors & waddell. alas for enterprises started on borrowed capital! how many of them end in disaster, leaving their projectors not only penniless, but in debt. our young frontiersman, whose life had been spent in protecting the property of others, was powerless to save his own. wagon, horses, and freight were all captured by indians, and their owner barely escaped with his life. from a safe covert he watched the redskins plunge him into bankruptcy. it took him several years to recover, and he has often remarked that the responsibility of his first business venture on borrowed capital aged him prematurely. the nearest station to the scene of this disaster was junction city, and thither he tramped, in the hope of retrieving his fortunes. there he met colonel hickok, and in the pleasure of the greeting forgot his business ruin for a space. the story of his marriage and his stirring adventures as a landlord and lover of his fellowman were first to be related, and when these were commented upon, and his old friend had learned, too, of the wreck of the freighting enterprise, there came the usual inquiry: "and now, do you know of a job with some money in it?" "there isn't exactly a fortune in it," said wild bill, "but i'm scouting for uncle sam at fort ellsworth. the commandant needs more scouts, and i can vouch for you as a good one." "all right," said will, always quick in decision; "i'll go along with you, and apply for a job at once." he was pleased to have colonel hickok's recommendation, but it turned out that he did not need it, as his own reputation had preceded him. the commandant of the fort was glad to add him to the force. the territory he had to scout over lay between forts ellsworth and fletcher, and he alternated between those points throughout the winter. it was at fort fletcher, in the spring of 1867, that he fell in with the dashing general custer, and the friendship established between them was ended only by the death of the general at the head of his gallant three hundred. this spring was an exceedingly wet one, and the fort, which lay upon the bank of big creek, was so damaged by floods that it was abandoned. a new fort was erected, some distance to the westward, on the south fork of the creek, and was named fort hayes. returning one day from an extended scouting trip, will discovered signs indicating that indians in considerable force were in the neighborhood. he at once pushed forward at all speed to report the news, when a second discovery took the wind out of his sails; the hostiles were between him and the fort. at that moment a party of horsemen broke into view, and seeing they were white men, will waited their approach. the little band proved to be general custer and an escort of ten, en route from fort ellsworth to fort hayes. informed by will that they were cut off by indians, and that the only hope of escape lay in a rapid flank movement, custer's reply was a terse: "lead on, scout, and we'll follow." will wheeled, clapped spurs to his horse, and dashed away, with the others close behind. all hands were sufficiently versed in indian warfare to appreciate the seriousness of their position. they pursued a roundabout trail, and reached the fort without seeing a hostile, but learned from the reports of others that their escape had been a narrow one. custer was on his way to larned, sixty miles distant, and he needed a guide. he requested that will be assigned to the position, so pleased was he by the service already rendered. "the very man i proposed to send with you, general," said the commandant, who knew well the keen desire of the indians to get at "yellow hair," as they called custer. "cody knows this part of the country like a book; he is up to all the indian games, and he is as full of resources as a nut is of meat." at daybreak the start was made, and it was planned to cover the sixty miles before nightfall. will was mounted on a mouse-colored mule, to which he was much attached, and in which he had every confidence. custer, however, was disposed to regard the lowly steed in some disdain. "do you think, cody, that mule can set the pace to reach larned in a day?" he asked. "when you get to larned, general," smiled will, "the mule and i will be with you." custer said no more for a while, but the pace he set was eloquent, and the mouse-colored mule had to run under "forced draught" to keep up with the procession. it was a killing pace, too, for the horses, which did not possess the staying power of the mule. will was half regretting that he had ridden the animal, and was wondering how he could crowd on another pound or two of steam, when, suddenly glancing at custer, he caught a gleam of mischief in the general's eye. plainly the latter was seeking to compel an acknowledgment of error, but will only patted the mouse-colored flanks. fifteen miles were told off; custer's thoroughbred horse was still in fine fettle, but the mule had got the second of its three or four winds, and was ready for a century run. "can you push along a little faster, general?" asked will, slyly. "if that mule of yours can stand it, go ahead," was the reply. to the general's surprise, the long-eared animal did go ahead, and when the party got into the hills, and the traveling grew heavy, it set a pace that seriously annoyed the general's thoroughbred. fifteen miles more were pounded out, and a halt was called for luncheon. the horses needed the rest, but the mouse-colored mule wore an impatient expression. having got its third wind, it wanted to use it. "well, general," said will, when they swung off on the trail again, "what do you think of my mount?" custer laughed. "it's not very handsome," said he, "but it seems to know what it's about, and so does the rider. you're a fine guide, cody. like the indian, you seem to go by instinct, rather than by trails and landmarks." the praise of custer was sweeter to the young scout than that of any other officer on the plains would have been. at just four o'clock the mouse-colored mule jogged into fort larned and waved a triumphant pair of ears. a short distance behind rode custer, on a thoroughly tired thoroughbred, while the escort was strung along the trail for a mile back. "cody," laughed the general, "that remarkable quadruped of yours looks equal to a return trip. our horses are pretty well fagged out, but we have made a quick trip and a good one. you brought us 'cross country straight as the crow flies, and that's the sort of service i appreciate. any time you're in need of work, report to me. i'll see that you're kept busy." it was custer's intention to remain at fort larned for some time, and will, knowing that he was needed at hayes, tarried only for supper and a short rest before starting back. when night fell, he proceeded warily. on the way out he had directed custer's attention to signs denoting the near-by presence of a small band of mounted indians. suddenly a distant light flashed into view, but before he could check his mule it had vanished. he rode back a few paces, and the light reappeared. evidently it was visible through some narrow space, and the matter called for investigation. will dismounted, hitched his mule, and went forward. after he had covered half a mile, he found himself between two sandhills, the pass leading into a little hollow, within which were a large number of indians camped around the fire whose light he had followed. the ponies were in the background. will's position was somewhat ticklish, as, without a doubt, an indian sentinel was posted in the pass; yet it was his duty, as he understood it, to obtain a measurably accurate estimate of the number of warriors in the band. himself a very indian in stealth, he drew nearer the camp-fire, when suddenly there rang out upon the night air--not a rifle-shot, but the unearthly braying of his mule. even in the daylight, amid scenes of peace and tranquillity, the voice of a mule falls short of the not enchanting music of the bagpipe. at night in the wilderness, when every nerve is keyed up to the snapping-point, the sound is simply appalling. will was startled, naturally, but the indians were thrown into dire confusion. they smothered the campfires and scattered for cover, while a sentinel sprang up from behind a rock not twenty feet from will, and was off like a deer. the scout held his ground till he had made a good guess at the number of indians in the party; then he ran for his mule, whose voice, raised in seeming protest, guided him unerringly. as he neared the animal he saw that two mounted indians had laid hold of it, and were trying to induce it to follow them; but the mule, true to tradition and its master, stubbornly refused to budge a foot. it was a comical tableau, but will realized that it was but a step from farce to tragedy. a rifle-shot dropped one of the indians, and the other darted off into the darkness. another bray from the mule, this time a paean of triumph, as will jumped into the saddle, with an arrow from the bow of the wounded indian through his coat-sleeve. he declined to return the fire of the wounded wretch, and rode away into the timber, while all around the sound of indians in pursuit came to his ears. "now, my mouse-colored friend," said will, "if you win this race your name is custer." the mule seemed to understand; at all events, it settled down to work that combined the speed of a racer with the endurance of a buffalo. the indians shortly abandoned the pursuit, as they could not see their game. will reached fort hayes in the early morning, to report the safe arrival of custer at larned and the discovery of the indian band, which he estimated at two hundred braves. the mule received "honorable mention" in his report, and was brevetted a thoroughbred. the colonel prepared to dispatch troops against the indians, and requested will to guide the expedition, if he were sufficiently rested, adding, with a smile: "you may ride your mule if you like." "no, thank you," laughed will. "it isn't safe, sir, to hunt indians with an animal that carries a brass-band attachment." captain george a. armes, of the tenth cavalry, was to command the expedition, which comprised a troop of colored cavalry and a howitzer. as the command lined up for the start, a courier on a foam-splashed horse rode up with the news that the workmen on the kansas pacific railroad had been attacked by indians, six of them killed, and over a hundred horses and mules and a quantity of stores stolen. the troops rode away, the colored boys panting for a chance at the redskins, and captain armes more than willing to gratify them. at nightfall the command made camp near the saline river, at which point it was expected to find the indians. before dawn they were in the saddle again, riding straight across country, regardless of trails, until the river was come up with. will's judgment was again verified by the discovery of a large camp of hostiles on the opposite bank of the stream. the warriors were as quick of eye, and as they greatly outnumbered the soldiers, and were emboldened by the success of their late exploit, they did not wait the attack, but came charging across the river. they were nearly a mile distant, and captain armes had time to plant the howitzer on a little rise of ground. twenty men were left to handle it. the rest of the command advanced to the combat. they were just at the point of attack when a fierce yelling was heard in the rear, and the captain discovered that his retreat to the gun was cut off by another band of reds, and that he was between two fires. his only course was to repulse the enemy in front. if this were done, and the colored gunners did not flee before the overwhelming numbers, he might unite his forces by another charge. the warriors came on with their usual impetuosity, whooping and screaming, but they met such a raking fire from the disciplined troops that they fell back in disorder. just then the men at the howitzer opened fire. the effect of this field-piece on the children of the plains was magical--almost ludicrous. a veritable stampede followed. "follow me!" shouted captain armes, galloping in pursuit; but in their eagerness to give chase the troops fell into such disorder that a bugle-blast recalled them before any further damage was done the flying foe. the indians kept right along, however; they were pretty badly frightened. captain armes was somewhat chagrined that he had no prisoners, but there was consolation in taking back nearly all the horses that had been stolen. these were found picketed at the camp across the river, where likely they had been forgotten by the indians in their flight. shortly after this, will tried his hand at land speculation. during one of his scouting trips to fort harker, he visited ellsworth, a new settlement, three miles from the fort. there he met a man named rose, who had a grading contract for the kansas pacific railroad, near fort hayes. rose had bought land at a point through which the railroad was to run, and proposed staking it out as a town, but he needed a partner in the enterprise. the site was a good one. big creek was hard by, and it was near enough to the fort to afford settlers reasonable security against indian raids. will regarded the enterprise favorably. besides the money sent home each month, he had put by a small sum, and this he invested in the partnership with rose. the town site was surveyed and staked off into lots; a cabin was erected, and stocked with such goods as are needed on the frontier, and the budding metropolis was weighted with the classic name of rome. as an encouragement to settlers, a lot was offered to any one that would agree to erect a building. the proprietors, of course, reserved the choicest lots. rome boomed. two hundred cabins went up in less than sixty days. mr. rose and will shook hands and complimented each other on their penetration and business sagacity. they were coming millionaires, they said. alas! they were but babes in the woods. one day dr. w. e. webb alighted in rome. he was a gentleman of most amiable exterior, and when he entered the store of rose & cody they prepared to dispose of a large bill of goods. but dr. webb was not buying groceries. he chatted a while about the weather and rome, and then suggested that the firm needed a third partner. but this was the last thing the prospective millionaires had in mind, and the suggestion of their visitor was mildly but firmly waived. dr. webb was not a gentleman to insist upon a suggestion. he was locating towns for the kansas pacific railroad, he said, and as rome was well started, he disliked to interfere with it; but, really, the company must have a show. neither mr. rose nor will had had experience with the power of a big corporation, and satisfied that they had the only good site for a town in that vicinity, they declared that the railroad could not help itself. dr. webb smiled pleasantly, and not without compassion. "look out for yourselves," said he, as he took his leave. and within sight of rome he located a new town. the citizens of rome were given to understand that the railroad shops would be built at the new settlement, and that there was really nothing to prevent it becoming the metropolis of kansas. rome became a wilderness. its citizens stampeded to the new town, and mr. rose and will revised their estimate of their penetration and business sagacity. meantime, the home in leavenworth had been gladdened by the birth of a little daughter, whom her father named arta. as it was impossible for will to return for some months, it was planned that the mother, the baby, and i should make a visit to the st. louis home. this was accomplished safely; and while the grandparents were enraptured with the baby, i was enjoying the delight of a first visit to a large city. while the new town of rome was regarded as an assured success by will, he had journeyed to st. louis after his wife and little one. they proceeded with him to the cozy cabin home he had fitted up, while i went back to leavenworth. after the fall of rome the little frontier home was no longer the desirable residence that will's dreams had pictured it, and as rome passed into oblivion the little family returned to st. louis. chapter xvi. -how the sobriquet of "buffalo bill" was won. in frontier days a man had but to ask for work to get it. there was enough and to spare for every one. the work that paid best was the kind that suited will, it mattered not how hard or dangerous it might be. at the time rome fell, the work on the kansas pacific railroad was pushing forward at a rapid rate, and the junior member of the once prosperous firm of rose & cody saw a new field of activity open for him--that of buffalo-hunting. twelve hundred men were employed on the railroad construction, and goddard brothers, who had undertaken to board the vast crew, were hard pressed to obtain fresh meat. to supply this indispensable, buffalo-hunters were employed, and as will was known to be an expert buffalo-slayer, goddard brothers were glad to add him to their "commissary staff." his contract with them called for en average of twelve buffaloes daily, for which he was to receive five hundred dollars a month. it was "good pay," the desired feature, but the work was hard and hazardous. he must first scour the country for his game, with a good prospect always of finding indians instead of buffalo; then, when the game was shot, he must oversee its cutting and dressing, and look after the wagons that transported it to the camp where the workmen messed. it was while working under this contract that he acquired the sobriquet of "buffalo bill." it clung to him ever after, and he wore it with more pride than he would have done the title of prince or grand duke. probably there are thousands of people to-day who know him by that name only. at the outset he procured a trained buffalo-hunting horse, which went by the unconventional name of "brigham," and from the government he obtained an improved breech-loading needle-gun, which, in testimony of its murderous qualities, he named "lucretia borgia." buffaloes were usually plentiful enough, but there were times when the camp supply of meat ran short. during one of these dull spells, when the company was pressed for horses, brigham was hitched to a scraper. one can imagine his indignation. a racer dragging a street-car would have no more just cause for rebellion than a buffalo-hunter tied to a work implement in the company of stupid horses that never had a thought above a plow, a hay-rake, or a scraper. brigham expostulated, and in such plain language, that will, laughing, was on the point of unhitching him, when a cry went up--the equivalent of a whaler's "there she blows!"--that a herd of buffaloes was coming over the hill. brigham and the scraper parted company instantly, and will mounted him bareback, the saddle being at the camp, a mile away. shouting an order to the men to follow him with a wagon to take back the meat, he galloped toward the game. there were other hunters that day. five officers rode out from the neighboring fort, and joined will while waiting for the buffaloes to come up. they were recent arrivals in that part of the country, and their shoulder-straps indicated that one was a captain and the others were lieutenants. they did not know "buffalo bill." they saw nothing but a good-looking young fellow, in the dress of a working man, astride a not handsome horse, which had a blind bridle and no saddle. it was not a formidable-looking hunting outfit, and the captain was disposed to be a trifle patronizing. "hello!" he called out. "i see you're after the same game we are." "yes, sir," returned will. "our camp's out of fresh meat." the officer ran a critical eye over brigham. "do you expect to run down a buffalo with a horse like that?" said he. "why," said will, innocently, "are buffaloes pretty speedy?" "speedy? it takes a fast horse to overhaul those animals on the open prairie." "does it?" said will; and the officer did not see the twinkle in his eye. nothing amuses a man more than to be instructed on a matter that he knows thoroughly, and concerning which his instructor knows nothing. probably every one of the officers had yet to shoot his first buffalo. "come along with us," offered the captain, graciously. "we're going to kill a few for sport, and all we care for are the tongues and a chunk of the tenderloin; you can have the rest." "thank you," said will. "i'll follow along." there were eleven buffaloes in the herd, and the officers started after them as if they had a sure thing on the entire number. will noticed that the game was pointed toward a creek, and understanding "the nature of the beast," started for the water, to head them off. as the herd went past him, with the military quintet five hundred yards in the rear, he gave brigham's blind bridle a twitch, and in a few jumps the trained hunter was at the side of the rear buffalo; lucretia borgia spoke, and the buffalo fell dead. without even a bridle signal, brigham was promptly at the side of the next buffalo, not ten feet away, and this, too, fell at the first shot. the maneuver was repeated until the last buffalo went down. twelve shots had been fired; then brigham, who never wasted his strength, stopped. the officers had not had even a shot at the game. astonishment was written on their faces as they rode up. "gentlemen," said will, courteously, as he dismounted, "allow me to present you with eleven tongues and as much of the tenderloin as you wish." "by jove!" exclaimed the captain, "i never saw anything like that before. who are you, anyway?" "bill cody's my name." "well, bill cody, you know how to kill buffalo, and that horse of yours has some good running points, after all." "one or two," smiled will. captain graham--as his name proved to be--and his companions were a trifle sore over missing even the opportunity of a shot, but they professed to be more than repaid for their disappointment by witnessing a feat they had not supposed possible in a white man--hunting buffalo without a saddle, bridle, or reins. will explained that brigham knew more about the business than most two-legged hunters. all the rider was expected to do was to shoot the buffalo. if the first shot failed, brigham allowed another; if this, too, failed, brigham lost patience, and was as likely as not to drop the matter then and there. it was this episode that fastened the name of "buffalo bill" upon will, and learning of it, the friends of billy comstock, chief of scouts at fort wallace, filed a protest. comstock, they said, was cody's superior as a buffalo hunter. so a match was arranged to determine whether it should be "buffalo bill" cody or "buffalo bill" comstock. the hunting-ground was fixed near sheridan, kansas, and quite a crowd of spectators was attracted by the news of the contest. officers, soldiers, plainsmen, and railroadmen took a day off to see the sport, and one excursion party, including many ladies, among them louise, came up from st. louis. referees were appointed to follow each man and keep a tally of the buffaloes slain. comstock was mounted on his favorite horse, and carried a henry rifle of large caliber. brigham and lucretia went with will. the two hunters rode side by side until the first herd was sighted and the word given, when off they dashed to the attack, separating to the right and left. in this first trial will killed thirty-eight and comstock twenty-three. they had ridden miles, and the carcasses of the dead buffaloes were strung all over the prairie. luncheon was served at noon, and scarcely was it over when another herd was sighted, composed mainly of cows with their calves. the damage to this herd was eighteen and fourteen, in favor of cody. in those days the prairies were alive with buffaloes, and a third herd put in an appearance before the rifle-barrels were cooled. in order to give brigham a share of the glory, will pulled off saddle and bridle, and advanced bareback to the slaughter. that closed the contest. score, sixty-nine to forty-eight. comstock's friends surrendered, and cody was dubbed "champion buffalo hunter of the plains." the heads of the buffaloes that fell in this hunt were mounted by the kansas pacific company, and distributed about the country, as advertisements of the region the new road was traversing. meanwhile, will continued hunting for the kansas pacific contractors, and during the year and a half that he supplied them with fresh meat he killed four thousand two hundred and eighty buffaloes. but when the railroad reached sheridan it was decided to build no farther at that time, and will was obliged to look for other work. the indians had again become so troublesome that a general war threatened all along the border, and general p. h. sheridan came west to personally direct operations. he took up his quarters at fort leavenworth, but the indian depredations becoming more widespread, he transferred his quarters to fort hayes, then the terminus of the kansas pacific railroad. will was then in the employ of the quartermaster's department at fort larned, but was sent with an important dispatch to general sheridan announcing that the indians near larned were preparing to decamp. the distance between larned and hayes was sixty-five miles, through a section infested with indians, but will tackled it, and reached the commanding general without mishap. shortly afterward it became necessary to send dispatches from fort hayes to fort dodge. ninety-five miles of country lay between, and every mile of it was dangerous ground. fort dodge was surrounded by indians, and three scouts had lately been killed while trying to get dispatches through, but will's confidence in himself or his destiny was unshakable, and he volunteered to take the dispatches, as far, at least, as the indians would let him. "it is a dangerous undertaking," said general sheridan, "but it is most important that the dispatches should go through; so, if you are willing to risk it, take the best horse you can find, and the sooner you start the better." within an hour the scout was in the saddle. at the outset will permitted his horse to set his own pace, for in case of pursuit he should want the animal fresh enough to at least hold his own. but no pursuit materialized, and when the dawn came up he had covered seventy miles, and reached a station on coon creek, manned by colored troops. here he delivered a letter to major cox, the officer in command, and after eating breakfast, took a fresh horse, and resumed his journey before the sun was above the plain. fort dodge was reached, the dispatches delivered by nine o'clock, and will turned in for a needed sleep. when he awoke, he was assured by john austin, chief of the scouts at dodge, that his coming through unharmed from fort hayes was little short of a miracle. he was also assured that a journey to his own headquarters, fort larned, would be even more ticklish than his late ride, as the hostiles were especially thick in that direction. but the officer in command at dodge desired to send dispatches to larned, and as none of the other scouts were willing to take them, will volunteered his services. "larned's my headquarters," said he, "and i must go there anyway; so if you'll give me a good horse, i'll take your dispatches." "we haven't a decent horse left," said the officer; "but you can take your pick of some fine government mules." will made a gesture of despair. another race on mule-back with indians was not an inviting prospect. there were very few mules like unto his quondam mouse-colored mount. but he succumbed to the inevitable, picked out the most enterprising looking mule in the bunch, and set forth. and neither he nor the mule guessed what was in store for each of them. at coon creek will dismounted for a drink of water, and the mule embraced the opportunity to pull away, and start alone on the wagon-trail to larned. will did not suspect that he should have any trouble in overtaking the capricious beast, but at the end of a mile he was somewhat concerned. he had threatened and entreated, raged and cajoled. 'twas all wasted. the mule was as deaf to prayer as to objurgation. it browsed contentedly along the even tenor of its way, so near and yet so far from the young man, who, like "panting time, toil'd after it in vain." and larned much more than twenty miles away. what the poet calls "the golden exhalations of the dawn" began to warm the gray of the plain. the sun was in the roots of the grass. four miles away the lights of larned twinkled. the only blot on a fair landscape was the mule--in the middle distance. but there was a wicked gleam in the eye of the footsore young man in the foreground. boom! the sunrise gun at the fort. the mule threw back its head, waved its ears, and poured forth a song of triumph, a loud, exultant bray. crack! will's rifle. down went the mule. it had made the fatal mistake of gloating over its villainy. never again would it jeopardize the life of a rider. it had been a thirty-five-mile walk, and every bone in will's body ached. his shot alarmed the garrison, but he was soon on the ground with the explanation; and after turning over his dispatches, he sought his bed. during the day general hazen returned, under escort, from fort harker, with dispatches for sheridan, and will offered to be the bearer of them. an army mule was suggested, but he declined to again put his life in the keeping of such an animal. a good horse was selected, and the journey made without incident. general sheridan was roused at daylight to receive the scout's report and praised will warmly for having undertaken and safely accomplished three such long and dangerous rides. "in all," says general sheridan, in his memoirs, "cody rode three hundred and fifty miles in less than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage was more than enough to convince me that his services would be extremely valuable in the campaign; so i retained him at fort hayes until the battalion of fifth cavalry arrived, and then made him chief of scouts for that regiment." chapter xvii. -satanta, chief of the kiowas. within plain view of fort larned lay a large camp of kiowas and comanches. they were not yet bedaubed with war paint, but they were as restless as panthers in a cage, and it was only a matter of days when they would whoop and howl with the loudest. the principal chief of the kiowas was satanta, a powerful and resourceful warrior, who, because of remarkable talents for speech-making, was called "the orator of the plains." satanta was short and bullet-headed. hatred for the whites swelled every square inch of his breast, but he had the deep cunning of his people, with some especially fine points of treachery learned from dealings with dishonest agents and traders. there probably never was an indian so depraved that he could not be corrupted further by association with a rascally white man. when the kiowas were friendly with the government, satanta received a guest with all the magnificence the tribe afforded. a carpet was spread for the white man to sit upon, and a folding board was set up for a table. the question of expense never intruded. individually, too, satanta put on a great deal of style. had the opportunity come to him, he would have worn a silk hat with a sack-coat, or a dress suit in the afternoon. as it was, he produced some startling effects with blankets and feathers. it was part of general hazen's mission to fort larned to patch up a treaty with the outraged kiowas and comanches, if it could be brought about. on one warm august morning, the general set out for fort zarah, on a tour of inspection. zarah was on the arkansas, in what is now barton county, kansas. an early start was made, as it was desired to cover the thirty miles by noon. the general rode in a four-mule army ambulance, with an escort of ten foot soldiers, in a four-mule escort wagon. after dinner at zarah the general went on to fort harker, leaving orders for the scout and soldiers to return to larned on the following day. but as there was nothing to do at fort zarah, will determined to return at once; so he trimmed the sails of his mule-ship, and squared away for larned. the first half of the journey was without incident, but when pawnee rock was reached, events began to crowd one another. some forty indians rode out from behind the rock and surrounded the scout. "how? how?" they cried, as they drew near, and offered their hands for the white man's salutation. the braves were in war paint, and intended mischief; but there was nothing to be lost by returning their greeting, so will extended his hand. one warrior seized it and gave it a violent jerk; another caught the mule's bridle; a third pulled the revolvers from the holsters; a fourth snatched the rifle from across the saddle; while a fifth, for a climax, dealt will a blow on the head with a tomahawk that nearly stunned him. then the band started for the arkansas river, lashing the mule, singing, yelling, and whooping. for one supposed to be stolid and taciturn, the indian makes a good deal of noise at times. across the river was a vast throng of warriors, who had finally decided to go on the war-path. will and his captors forded the shallow stream, and the prisoner was conducted before the chiefs of the tribe, with some of whom he was acquainted. his head throbbed from the tomahawking, but his wits were still in working order, and when asked by satanta where he had been, he replied that he had been out searching for "whoa-haws." he knew that the indians had been promised a herd of "whoa-haws," as they termed cattle, and he knew, too, that the herd had not arrived, and that the indians had been out of meat for several weeks; hence he hoped to enlist satanta's sympathetic interest. he succeeded. satanta was vastly interested. where were the cattle? oh, a few miles back. will had been sent forward to notify the indians that an army of sirloin steaks was advancing upon them. satanta was much pleased, and the other chiefs were likewise interested. did general hazen say the cattle were for them? was there a chance that the scout was mistaken? not a chance; and with becoming dignity will demanded a reason for the rough treatment he had received. oh, that was all a joke, satanta explained. the indians who had captured the white chief were young and frisky. they wished to see whether he was brave. they were simply testing him. it was sport--just a joke. will did not offer to argue the matter. no doubt an excellent test of a man's courage is to hit him over the head with a tomahawk. if he lives through it, he is brave as agamemnon. but will insisted mildly that it was a rough way to treat friends; whereupon satanta read the riot act to his high-spirited young men, and bade them return the captured weapons to the scout. the next question was, were there soldiers with the cattle? certainly, replied will; a large party of soldiers were escorting the succulent sirloins. this intelligence necessitated another consultation. evidently hostilities must be postponed until after the cattle had arrived. would will drive the cattle to them? he would be delighted to. did he desire that the chief's young men should accompany him? no, indeed. the soldiers, also, were high-spirited, and they might test the bravery of the chief's young men by shooting large holes in them. it would be much better if the scout returned alone. satanta agreed with him, and will recrossed the river without molestation; but, glancing over his shoulder, he noted a party of ten or fifteen young braves slowly following him. satanta was an extremely cautious chieftain. will rode leisurely up the gentle slope of the river's bank, but when he had put the ridge between him and the indian camp he pointed his mule westward, toward fort larned, and set it going at its best pace. when the indians reached the top of the ridge, from where they could scan the valley, in which the advancing cattle were supposed to be, there was not a horn to be seen, and the scout was flying in an opposite direction. they gave chase, but the mule had a good start, and when it got its second wind--always necessary in a mule--the indian ponies gained but slowly. when ash creek, six miles from larned, was reached, the race was about even, but two miles farther on, the indians were uncomfortably close behind. the sunset gun at the fort boomed a cynical welcome to the man four miles away, flying toward it for his life. at pawnee fork, two miles from the fort, the indians had crept up to within five hundred yards. but here, on the farther bank of the stream, will came upon a government wagon containing half a dozen soldiers and denver jim, a well-known scout. the team was driven among the trees, and the men hid themselves in the bushes, and when the indians came along they were warmly received. two of the reds were killed; the others wheeled and rode back in safety. in 1868 general sheridan had taken command of all the troops in the field. he arranged what is known as the winter expeditions against the kiowas, comanches, southern cheyennes, and arapahoes. he personally commanded the expedition which left fort dodge, with general custer as chief of cavalry. general penrose started for fort lyon, colorado, and general eugene a. carr was ordered from the republican river country, with the fifth cavalry, to fort wallace, kansas. will at this time had a company of forty scouts with general carr's command. he was ordered by general sheridan, when leaving fort lyon, to follow the trail of general penrose's command until it was overtaken. general carr was to proceed to fort lyon, and follow on the trail of general penrose, who had started from there three weeks before, when, as carr ranked penrose, he would then take command of both expeditions. it was the 21st of november when carr's expedition left fort lyon. the second day out they encountered a terrible snow-storm and blizzard in a place they christened "freeze out canon," by which name it is still known. as penrose had only a pack-train and no heavy wagons, and the ground was covered with snow, it was a very difficult matter to follow his trail. but taking his general course, they finally came up with him on the south fork of the canadian river, where they found him and his soldiers in a sorry plight, subsisting wholly on buffalo-meat. their animals had all frozen to death. general carr made what is known as a supply camp, leaving penrose's command and some of his own disabled stock therein. taking with him the fifth cavalry and the best horses and pack-mules, he started south toward the main fork of the canadian river, looking for the indians. he was gone from the supply camp thirty days, but could not locate the main band of indians, as they were farther to the east, where general sheridan had located them, and had sent general custer in to fight them, which he did, in what is known as the great battle of wichita. they had a very severe winter, and returned in march to fort lyon, colorado. in the spring of 1869, the fifth cavalry, ordered to the department of the platte, took up the line of march for fort mcpherson, nebraska. it was a large command, including seventy-six wagons for stores, ambulance wagons, and pack-mules. those chief in authority were colonel royal (afterward superseded by general carr), major brown, and captain sweetman. the average distance covered daily was only ten miles, and when the troops reached the solomon river there was no fresh meat in camp. colonel royal asked will to look up some game. "all right, sir," said will. "will you send a couple of wagons along to fetch in the meat?" "we'll send for the game, cody, when there's some game to send for," curtly replied the colonel. that settled the matter, surely, and will rode away, a trifle ruffled in temper. he was not long in rounding up a herd of seven buffaloes, and he headed them straight for camp. as he drew near the lines, he rode alongside his game, and brought down one after another, until only an old bull remained. this he killed in almost the center of the camp. the charge of the buffaloes had nearly stampeded the picketed horses, and colonel royal, who, with the other officers, had watched the hunt, demanded, somewhat angrily: "what does this mean, cody?" "why," said will, "i thought, sir, i'd save you the trouble of sending after the game." the colonel smiled, though perhaps the other officers enjoyed the joke more than he. at the north fork of the beaver, will discovered a large and fresh indian trail. the tracks were scattered all over the valley, showing that a large village had recently passed that way. will estimated that at least four hundred lodges were represented; that would mean from twenty-five hundred to three thousand warriors, squaws, and children. when general carr (who had taken the command) got the news, he followed down a ravine to beaver creek, and here the regiment went into camp. lieutenant ward and a dozen men were detailed to accompany will on a reconnoissance. they followed beaver creek for twelve miles, and then the lieutenant and the scout climbed a knoll for a survey of the country. one glance took in a large indian village some three miles distant. thousands of ponies were picketed out, and small bands of warriors were seen returning from the hunt, laden with buffalo-meat. "i think, lieutenant," said will, "that we have important business at camp." "i agree with you," said ward. "the quicker we get out of here, the better." when they rejoined the men at the foot of the hill, ward dispatched a courier to general carr, the purpose of the lieutenant being to follow slowly and meet the troops which he knew would be sent forward. the courier rode away at a gallop, but in a few moments came riding back, with three indians at his horse's heels. the little company charged the warriors, who turned and fled for the village. "lieutenant," said will, "give me that note." and as it was passed over, he clapped spurs to his horse and started for the camp. he had proceeded but a short distance when he came upon another party of indians, returning to the village with buffalo-meat. without stopping, he fired a long-range shot at them, and while they hesitated, puzzled by the action, he galloped past. the warriors were not long in recovering from their surprise, and cutting loose their meat, followed; but their ponies were tired from a long hunt, and will's fresh horse ran away from them. when general carr received the lieutenant's dispatch, he ordered the bugler to sound the inspiring "boots and saddles," and, while two companies remained to guard the wagons, the rest of the troops hastened against the indians. three miles out they were joined by lieutenant ward's company, and five miles more brought them within sight of a huge mass of mounted indians advancing up the creek. these warriors were covering the retreat of their squaws, who were packing up and getting ready for hasty flight. general carr ordered a charge on the red line. if it were broken, the cavalry was to continue, and surround the village. the movement was successfully executed, but one officer misunderstood the order, and, charging on the left wing of the hostiles, was speedily hemmed in by some three hundred redskins. reinforcements were dispatched to his relief, but the plan of battle was spoiled, and the remainder of the afternoon was spent in contesting the ground with the indians, who fought for their lodges, squaws, and children with desperate and dogged courage. when night came on, the wagon-trains, which had been ordered to follow, had not put in an appearance, and, though the regiment went back to look for them, it was nine o'clock before they were reached. camp was broken at daybreak, and the pursuit began, but not an indian was in sight. all the day the trail was followed. there was evidence that the indians had abandoned everything that might hinder their flight. that night the regiment camped on the banks of the republican, and the next morning caught a distant glimpse of the foe. about eleven o'clock a charge was made by three hundred mounted warriors, but they were repulsed with considerable loss, and when they discovered that defeat was certain, they evaded further pursuit by breaking up into companies and scattering to all points of the compass. a large number of ponies were collected as trophies of this expedition. chapter xviii. -will made chief of scouts. in due time the fifth cavalry reached fort mcpherson, which became its headquarters while they were fitting out a new expedition to go into the republican river country. at this time general carr recommended to general augur, who was in command of the department, that will be made chief of scouts in the department of the platte. will's fancy had been so taken by the scenery along the line of march that he proceeded to explore the country around mcpherson, the result being a determination to make his future home in the platte valley. shortly after reaching the fort, the scouts' division of the fifth cavalry was reinforced by major frank north and three companies of the celebrated pawnee scouts. these became the most interesting and amusing objects in camp, partly on account of their race, but mainly because of the bizarre dress fashions they affected. my brother, in his autobiography, describes the appearance presented by these scouts during a review of the command by brigadier-general duncan. the regiment made a fine showing, the men being well drilled and thoroughly versed in tactics. the pawnees also showed up well on drill, but their full dress uniforms were calculated to excite even the army horses to laughter. regular cavalry suits had been furnished them, but no two of the pawnees seemed to agree as to the correct manner in which the various articles should be worn. as they lined up for dress parade, some of them wore heavy overcoats, others discarded even pantaloons, content with a breech-clout. some wore large black hats, with brass accouterments, others were bareheaded. many wore the pantaloons, but declined the shirts, while a few of the more original cut the seats from the pantaloons, leaving only leggings. half of them were without boots or moccasins, but wore the clinking spurs with manifest pride. they were a quaint and curious lot, but drilled remarkably well for indians, and obeyed orders. they were devoted to their white chief, major north, who spoke pawnee like a native, and they were very proud of their position in the united states army. good soldiers they made, too--hard riders, crack shots, and desperate fighters. at the close of the parade and review referred to, the officers and the ladies attended an indian dance, given by the pawnees, which climaxed a rather exciting day. the following morning an expedition moved back to the republican river, to curb the high spirits of a band of sioux, who had grown boldly troublesome. this was the sort of service the pawnees welcomed, as they and the sioux were hereditary enemies. at the journey's end, camp was made at the mouth of the beaver, and the sioux were heard from within the hour. a party of them raided the mules that had been taken to the river, and the alarm was given by a herder, who dashed into camp with an arrow sticking in his shoulder. will did not wait to saddle his horse, but the pawnees were as quick as he, and both of them rather surprised the sioux, who did not expect such a swift response. especially were they surprised to find themselves confronted by their tribal foe, the pawnee, and they fell back hastily, closely pressed by will and his red allies. a running fight was kept up for fifteen miles, and when many of the sioux had been stretched upon the plain and the others scattered, the pursuing party returned to camp. will himself, on a fine horse, had been somewhat chagrined at being passed in the chase by a pawnee on an inferior-looking steed. upon inquiring of major north, he found that the swifter horse was, like his own, government property. the pawnee was much attached to his mount, but he was also fond of tobacco, and a few pieces of that commodity, supplemented by some other articles, induced him to exchange horses. will named his new charge "buckskin joe," and rode him for four years. joe proved a worthy successor to brigham for speed, endurance, and intelligence. this was the first adventure that will and the pawnees had pursued together, and they emerged with an increased esteem for each other. not long afterward, will's skill as a buffalo-hunter raised the admiration of the indians to enthusiasm. twenty pawnees that circled around one herd of buffaloes killed only twenty-two, and when the next herd came in view will asked major north to keep the indians in the background while he showed them a thing or two. buckskin joe was a capital buffalo-hunter, and so well did he perform his part that will brought down thirty-six, about one at every shot. the pawnees were delighted. they held it considerable of an achievement to kill two or three of the monarchs of the plains at a single run, and will's feat dazzled them. he was at once pronounced a great chief, and ever after occupied a high place in their regard. moving up the republican river, the troops went into camp on black tail deer fork. scarcely were the tents pitched when a band of indians were seen sweeping toward them at full speed, singing, yelling, and waving lances. the camp was alive in an instant, but the pawnees, instead of preparing for defense, began to sing and yell in unison with the advancing braves. "those are some of our own indians," said major north; "they've had a fight, and are bringing in the scalps." and so it proved. the pawnees reported a skirmish with the sioux, in which a few of the latter had been killed. the next day the regiment set forth upon the trail of the sioux. they traveled rapidly, and plainly gained ground. at every camp the print of a woman's shoe was noted among the tracks of moccasined feet. the band evidently had a white captive in tow, and general carr, selecting the best horses, ordered a forced march, the wagon-trains to follow as rapidly as possible. will, with six pawnees, was to go ahead and locate the hostiles, and send back word, so that a plan of attack might be arranged before the indian village was reached. this village the scouts discovered among the sand-hills at summit springs, a few miles from the south platte river; and while the pawnees remained to watch, will returned to general carr with the news. there was suppressed excitement all along the line, as officers and men prepared for what promised to be a lively scrimmage. the troops moved forward by a circuitous route, and reached a hill overlooking the hostile camp without their presence being dreamed of by the red men. the bugler was ordered to sound the charge, but he was trembling with excitement, and unable to blow a note. "sound the charge, man!" ordered general carr a second time; but the unhappy wight could scarcely hold his horn, much less blow it. quartermaster hays snatched the instrument from the flustered man's hands, and as the call rang out loud and clear the troops rushed to the attack. taken wholly by surprise, the indian village went to pieces in a twinkling. a few of the sioux mounted and rode forward to repel the assault, but they turned back in half a minute, while those that were not mounted scattered for the foothills hard by. the cavalry swept through the village like a prairie fire, and pursued the flying indians until darkness put an end to the chase. by the next morning the bugler had grown calm enough to sound "boots and saddles!" and general carr split his force into companies, as it was discovered that the indians had divided. each company was to follow a separate trail. will made one of a band of two hundred, and for two days they dogged the red man's footsteps. at sunrise of the third day the trail ran into another, showing that the sioux had reunited their forces. this was serious for the little company of regulars, but they went ahead, eager for a meeting with the savages. they had not long to wait. the sun was scarcely an hour high when some six hundred sioux were espied riding in close ranks along the bank of the platte. the indians discovered the troops at the same moment, and at once gave battle. the indian is not a coward, though he frequently declines combat if the odds are not largely in his favor. in this engagement the sioux outnumbered the soldiers three to one, and the latter fell back slowly until they reached a ravine. here they tethered their horses and waited the course of indian events, which, as usual, came in circular form. the sioux surrounded the regulars, and finding them comparatively few in number, made a gallant charge. but bows and arrows are futile against powder and ball, and the warriors reeled back from a scathing fire, leaving a score of their number dead. another charge, another repulse; and then a council of war. this lasted an hour, and evidently evolved a brilliant stratagem, for the sioux divided into two bands, and while one made a show of withdrawing, the other circled around and around the position where the soldiers lay. at a point in this revolving belt of redskins rode a well-mounted, handsome warrior, plainly a chief. it had been will's experience that to lay low a chief was half the battle when fighting indians, but this particular mogul kept just out of rifle-shot. there are, however, as many ways of killing an indian as of killing a cat; so will crawled on hands and knees along the ravine to a point which he thought would be within range of the chief when next he swung around the circle. the calculation was close enough, and when the warrior came loping along, slacking his pace to cross the ravine, will rose and fired. it was a good four hundred yards, but the warrior pitched from his seat, and his pony ran down the ravine into the ranks of the soldiers, who were so elated over the success of the shot that they voted the animal to will as a trophy. the fallen warrior was tall bull, one of the ablest chiefs the sioux ever had. his death so disheartened his braves that they at once retreated. a union of general carr's scattered forces followed, and a few days later an engagement took place in which three hundred warriors and a large number of ponies were captured. some white captives were released, and several hundred squaws made prisoners. among these latter was the amiable widow of tall bull, who, far from cherishing animosity against will as the slayer of her spouse, took pride in the fact that he had fallen under the fire of so great a warrior as "pahaska," long-haired chief, by which name our scout was known among the indians. chapter xix. -army life at fort m'pherson. in the spring of 1870 will proceeded to put into effect the determination of the previous year--to establish a home in the lovely country of the westerly platte. after preparing quarters wherein his family might be comfortable, he obtained a leave of absence and departed for st. louis to fetch his wife and daughter arta, now a beautiful child of three. the fame of "buffalo bill" had extended far beyond the plains, and during his month's sojourn in st. louis he was the object of a great deal of attention. when the family prepared to depart for the frontier home, my sister-in-law wrote to me to ask if i did not wish to accompany them. i should have been delighted to accept the invitation, but at that especial time there were strong attractions for me in my childhood's home; besides, i felt that sister may, who had not enjoyed the pleasure of the st. louis trip, was entitled to the western jaunt. so may made a visit to mcpherson, and a delightful time she had, though she was at first inclined to quarrel with the severe discipline of army life. will ranked with the officers, and as a result may's social companions were limited to the two daughters of general augur, who were also on a visit to the fort. to compensate for the shortage of feminine society, however, there were a number of young unmarried officers. every day had its curious or enlivening incident, and may's letters to me were filled with accounts of the gayety of life at an army post. after several months i was invited to join her. she was enthusiastic over a proposed buffalo-hunt, as she desired to take part in one before her return to leavenworth, and wished me to enjoy the sport with her. in accepting the invitation i fixed a certain day for my arrival at mcpherson, but i was delayed in my journey, and did not reach the fort until three days after the date set. may was much disturbed. she had allowed me three days for recuperation from the journey, and i had arrived on the eve of the buffalo-hunt. naturally, i was too fatigued to rave over buffaloes, and i objected to joining the hunt; and i was encouraged in my objecting by the discovery that my brother was away on a scouting trip. "you don't think of going buffalo-hunting without will, do you?" i asked may. "why," said she, "we can never tell when he will be in camp and when away; he's off scouting nearly all the time. and we can't get up a buffalo-hunt on five minutes' notice; we must plan ahead. our party is all ready to start, and there's a reporter here from an omaha paper to write it up. we can't put it off, and you must go." after that, of course, there was nothing more to be said, and when the hunting-party set forth i made one of it. a gay party it was. for men, there were a number of officers, and the newspaper man, dr. frank powell, now of la crosser for women, the wives of two of the officers, the daughters of general augur, may, and myself. there was sunshine, laughter, and incessant chatter, and when one is young and fond of horseback-riding, and a handsome young officer rides by one's side, physical fatigue is apt to vanish for a time. the fort was soon nothing but a break in the sky-line, and with a sense almost of awe i looked for the first time upon the great american desert. to our left, as we rode eastward, ran the swift and shallow platte, dotted with green-garbed islands. this river washington irving called "the most magnificent and the most useless of streams" "the islands," he wrote, "have the appearance of a labyrinth of groves floating on the waters. their extraordinary position gives an air of youth and loveliness to the whole scene. if to this be added the undulations of the river, the waving of the verdure, the alternations of light and shade, and the purity of the atmosphere, some idea may be formed of the pleasing sensations which the traveler experiences on beholding a scene that seems to have started fresh from the hands of the creator." in sharp contrast was the sandy plain over which we rode. on this grew the short, stubby buffalo-grass, the dust-colored sage-brush, and cactus in rank profusion. over to the right, perhaps a mile away, a long range of foothills ran down to the horizon, with here and there the great canons, through which entrance was effected to the upland country, each canon bearing a historical or legendary name. to my eyes the picture was as beautiful as it was novel. as far as one could see there was no sign of human habitation. it was one vast, untenanted waste, with the touch of infinity the ocean wears. as we began to get into the foothills, one of our equestriennes narrowly escaped a fall. her horse dropped a foot into a prairie-dog's hole, and came to an abrupt stop. the foot was extricated, and i was instructed in the dangers that beset the prairie voyager in these blind traps of the plain. the trail had been ascending at a gentle grade, and we had a slight change of scene--desert hill instead of desert plain. the sand-hills rose in tiers before us, and i was informed that they were formed ages ago by the action of water. what was hard, dry ground to our horses' hoofs was once the bottom of the sea. i was much interested in the geology of my environments; much more so than i should have been had i been told that those strange, weird hills were the haunt of the red man, who was on the war-path, and looking constantly for scalps. but these unpleasant facts were not touched upon by the officers, and in blissful ignorance we pursued the tenor of our way. we were obliged to ride a great distance before we sighted any game, and after twenty miles had been gone over, my temporarily forgotten weariness began to reassert itself. dr. powell proposed that the ladies should do the shooting, but my interest in the hunt had waned. it had been several years since i had ridden a horse, and after the first few miles i was not in a suitable frame of mind or body to enjoy the most exciting hunt. a herd of buffaloes finally came into view, and the party was instantly alive. one old bull was a little apart from the others of the herd, and was singled out for the first attack. as we drew within range, a rifle was given to may, with explicit directions as to its handling. the buffalo has but one vulnerable spot, and it is next to impossible for a novice to make a fatal shot. may fired, and perhaps her shot might be called a good one, for the animal was struck: but it was only wounded and infuriated, and dropping its shaggy head, it rushed toward us. the officers fusilladed the mountain of flesh, succeeding only in rousing it to added fury. another rifle was handed to may, and dr. powell directed its aim; but terrified by the near presence of the charging bull, may discharged it at random. although this is strictly a narrative of facts, exercising the privilege of the novelist, we leave our present heroine in her perilous position, and return, for a space, to the fort. will returned from his scouting trip shortly after the departure of the hunting party, and his first query was: "is nellie here?" "come and gone," replied his wife; and she informed him of the manner in which i had been carried off on the long-talked-of buffalo-hunt. whereupon will gave way to one of his rare fits of passion. the scouting trip had been long and arduous, he was tired and hungry, but also keenly anxious for our safety. he knew what we were ignorant of--that should we come clear of the not insignificant dangers attendant upon a buffalo-hunt, there remained the possibility of capture by indians. "i must go after them at once," said he; and off he went, without thought of rest or food. he did take time, however, to visit the officers' quarters and pour a vial of wrath upon the bewildered head of the inferior who occupied the place of the absent commandant. "didn't you know," cried will, "that my continued absence meant danger in the air? fine idea, to let a party of ladies go beyond the fort on such a foolhardy expedition before i had assured you it was safe to do so! understand, if any harm comes to my sisters, i'll hold the government responsible!" with which tremendous threat he mounted the swiftest horse in camp and rode away before the astonished officer had recovered from his surprise. he was able to track us over the sand-hills, and reached us, in accepted hero fashion, in the very nick of time. the maddened bull buffalo was charging on may, unchecked by a peppering fire from the guns of the officers. all hands were so absorbed by the intense excitement of the moment that the sound of approaching hoof-beats was unnoted. but i heard, from behind us, the crack of a rifle, and saw the buffalo fall dead almost at our feet. the ill-humor of our rescuer dampened the ardor of the welcome we gave him. the long ride on an empty stomach had not smoothed a ripple of his ruffled temper, and we were all properly lectured. we were ordered back to the fort at once, and the command was of such a nature that no one thought of disputing it. the only question was, whether we could make the fort before being cut off by indians. there was no time to be wasted, even in cutting meat from the tongue of the fallen buffalo. will showed us the shortest cut for home, and himself zigzagged ahead of us, on the watch for a danger signal. for my part, i was so worn out that i would as soon be captured by indians, if they would agree to provide me with a wigwam wherein i might lie down and rest; but no indians appeared. five miles from the fort was the ranch of a wealthy bachelor, and at may's request a halt was here called. it was thought that the owner of the ranch might take pity upon my deplorable condition, and provide some sort of vehicle to convey the ladies the remainder of the journey. we were heartily welcomed, and our bachelor host made us extremely comfortable in his cozy apartments, while he ordered supper for the party. will considered that we were within the safety zone, so he continued on to the fort to obtain his postponed rest; and after supper the ladies rode to the fort in a carriage. the next day's omaha paper contained an account of the hunt from dr. powell's graphic pen, and in it may cody received all the glory of the shot that laid the buffalo low. newspaper men are usually ready to sacrifice exact facts to an innate sense of the picturesque. at this time the fort was somewhat concerned over numerous petty crimes among the civilians, and general emory, now chief in authority at the post, requested the county commissioners to appoint will a justice of the peace. this was done, much to the dismay of the new justice, who, as he phrased it, "knew no more of law than a mule knows of singing." but he was compelled to bear the blushing honors thrust upon him, and his sign was posted in a conspicuous place: ------------------------- | william f. cody, | | justice of the peace. | --------------------------*/ almost the first thing he was called upon to do in his new capacity was to perform a wedding ceremony. cold sweat stood upon his brow as he implored our aid in this desperate emergency. the big law book with which he had been equipped at his installation was ransacked in vain for the needed information. the bible was examined more diligently, perhaps, than it had ever been by him before, but the good book was as unresponsive as the legal tome. "remember your own wedding ceremony," was our advice "follow that as nearly as possible." but he shook his head despondently the cool-headed scout and indian fighter was dismayed, and the dignity of the law trembled in the balance. to put an edge on the crisis, nearly the entire fort attended the wedding. all is well, said we, as we watched the justice take his place before the bridal pair with not a sign of trepidation. at the outset his conducting of the ceremony was irreproachable, and we were secretly congratulating ourselves upon his success, when our ears were startled by the announcement: "whom god and buffalo bill hath joined together, let no man put asunder." so far as i am informed, no man has attempted it. before may returned home, will became the very proud father of a son. he had now three children, a second daughter, orra, having been born two years before. the first boy of the family was the object of the undivided interest of the post for a time, and names by the dozen were suggested. major north offered kit carson as an appropriate name for the son of a great scout and buffalo-hunter, and this was finally settled on. my first touch of real anxiety came with an order to will to report at headquarters for assignment to duty. the country was alive with indians, the officer in command informed him, and this intelligence filled me with dread. my sister-in-law had grown accustomed to her husband's excursions into danger-land, and accepted such sallies as incidents of his position. later, i, too, learned this stoical philosophy, but at first my anxiety was so keen that will laughed at me. "don't worry," said he; "the indians won't visit the fort to-night. there's no danger of them scalping you." "but," said i, "it is for you, not for myself, that i am afraid. it is horrible to think of you going out alone among those foothills, which swarm with indians." the fort was on the prairie, but the distant foothills stretched away interminably, and these furnished favorite lurking-places for the redskins. will drew me to a window, and pointed out the third tier of hills, some twelve or fifteen miles away. "i would advise you," said he, "to go to bed and sleep, but if you insist on keeping awake and worrying, i will kindle a blaze on top of that hill at midnight. watch closely. i can send up only one flash, for there will be indian eyes unclosed as well as yours." one may imagine with what a beating heart i stared into the darkness when the hour of twelve drew on. the night was a veil that hid a thousand terrors, but a gauzy veil, to my excited fancy, behind which passed a host of shadowy horsemen with uptossing lances. how could a man ride alone into such a gloomy, terror-haunted domain? the knights of old, who sallied forth in search of dismal ogres and noxious dragons, were not of stouter heart, and they breasted only fancied perils. twelve o'clock! the night had a thousand eyes, but they did not pierce the darkness of the foothills. ah! a thin ribbon of light curled upward for an instant, then vanished. will was safe thus far. but there were many hours--and the darkest--before the dawn, and i carried to my bed the larger share of my forebodings. next day the scout came home to report the exact location of the hostile-sioux. the troops, ready for instant action, were hurled against them, and the indians were thoroughly thrashed. a large number of chiefs were captured, among them "red shirt," an interesting redskin, who afterward traveled with the "wild west." captive chiefs were always esteemed of great interest by the ladies of the fort. to me the braves taken in the last raid were remarkable mainly for economy of apparel and sulkiness of demeanor. this same fall the fort was visited by a gentleman introduced as colonel judson, though the public knows him better as "ned buntline," the story-writer. he desired to accompany the scouts on a certain proposed trip, and major brown informed will that the ulterior motive of the author was to project buffalo bill into a novel as hero. "now, i'd look pretty in a novel, wouldn't i?" said will, sarcastically and blushingly. "yes, i think you would," returned the major, eying the other's splendid proportions critically. whereupon the scout blushed again, and doffed his sombrero in acknowledgment of the compliment, for- "'tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print; a book's a book, although there's nothing in't." a retired naval officer, ned buntline wore a black undress military suit. his face was bronzed and rugged, determined yet kindly; he walked with a slight limp, and carried a cane. he shook will's hand cordially when they were introduced, and expressed great pleasure in the meeting. this was the genesis of a friendship destined to work great changes in buffalo bill's career. during the scouting expedition that followed, the party chanced upon an enormous bone, which the surgeon pronounced the femur of a human body. will understood the indian tongues well enough to be in part possession of their traditions, and he related the sioux legend of the flood. it was taught by the wise men of this tribe that the earth was originally peopled by giants, who were fully three times the size of modern men. they were so swift and powerful that they could run alongside a buffalo, take the animal under one arm, and tear off a leg, and eat it as they ran. so vainglorious were they because of their own size and strength that they denied the existence of a creator. when it lightened, they proclaimed their superiority to the lightning; when it thundered, they laughed. this displeased the great spirit, and to rebuke their arrogance he sent a great rain upon the earth. the valleys filled with water, and the giants retreated to the hills. the water crept up the hills, and the giants sought safety on the highest mountains. still the rain continued, the waters rose, and the giants, having no other refuge, were drowned. the great spirit profited by his former mistake. when the waters subsided, he made a new race of men, but he made them smaller and less strong. this tradition has been handed down from sioux father to sioux son since earliest ages. it shows, at least, as the legends of all races do, that the story of the deluge is history common to all the world. another interesting indian tradition bears evidence of a later origin. the great spirit, they say, once formed a man of clay, and he was placed in the furnace to bake, but he was subjected to the heat too long a time, and came out burnt. of him came the negro race. at another trial the great spirit feared the second clay man might also burn, and he was not left in the furnace long enough. of him came the paleface man. the great spirit was now in a position to do perfect work, and the third clay man was left in the furnace neither too long nor too short a time; he emerged a masterpiece, the _ne plus ultra_ of creation--the noble red man. chapter xx. -pa-has-ka, the long-haired chief. although the glory of killing the buffalo on our hunt was accredited to sister may, to me the episode proved of much more moment. in the spring of 1871 i was married to mr. jester, the bachelor ranchman at whose place we had tarried on our hurried return to the fort. his house had a rough exterior, but was substantial and commodious, and before i entered it, a bride, it was refitted in a style almost luxurious. i returned to leavenworth to prepare for the wedding, which took place at the home of an old friend, thomas plowman, his daughter emma having been my chum in girlhood. in our home near mcpherson we were five miles "in the country." nature in primitive wildness encompassed us, but life's song never ran into a monotone. the prairie is never dull when one watches it from day to day for signs of indians. yet we were not especially concerned, as we were near enough to the fort to reach it on short notice, and besides our home there was another house where the ranchmen lived. with these i had little to do. my especial factotum was a negro boy, whose chief duty was to saddle my horse and bring it to the door, attend me upon my rides, and minister to my comfort generally. poor little chap! he was one of the first of the indians' victims. early one morning john, as he was called, was sent out alone to look after the cattle. during breakfast the clatter of hoofs was heard, and will rode up to inform us that the indians were on the war-path and massed in force just beyond our ranch. back of will were the troops, and we were advised to ride at once to the fort. hastily packing a few valuables, we took refuge at mcpherson, and remained there until the troops returned with the news that all danger was over. upon our return to the ranch we found that the cattle had been driven away, and poor little john was picked up dead on the skirts of the foothills. the redskins had apparently started to scalp him, but had desisted. perhaps they thought his wool would not make a desirable trophy, perhaps they were frightened away. at all events, the poor child's scalp was left to him, though the mark of the knife was plain. shortly after this episode, some capitalists from the east visited my husband. one of them, mr. bent, owned a large share in the cattle-ranches. he desired to visit this ranch, and the whole party planned a hunt at the same time. as there were no banking facilities on the frontier, drafts or bills of exchange would have been of no use; so the money designed for western investment had been brought along in cash. to carry this on the proposed trip was too great a risk, and i was asked banteringly to act as banker. i consented readily, but imagine my perturbation when twenty-five thousand dollars in bank-notes were counted out and left in my care. i had never had the responsibility of so large a sum of money before, and compared to me the man with the elephant on his hands had a tranquil time of it. after considering various methods for secreting the money, i decided for the hair mattress on my bed. this i ripped open, inserted the envelope containing the bank-notes, and sewed up the slit. no one was aware of my trust, and i regarded it safe. a few mornings later i ordered my pony and rode away to visit my nearest neighbor, a mrs. erickson, purposing later to ride to the fort and spend the day with lou, my sister-in-law. when i reached mrs. erickson's house, that good woman came out in great excitement to greet me. "you must come right in, mrs. jester!" said she. "the foothills are filled with indians on the warpath." she handed me her field-glasses, and directed my gaze to the trail below our ranch, over which buffaloes, cattle, and indians passed down to the platte. i could plainly see the warriors tramping along indian-file, their head-feathers waving in the breeze and their blankets flapping about them as they walked. instantly the thought of the twenty-five thousand dollars intrusted to my care flashed across my mind. "oh, mrs. erickson," i exclaimed, "i must return to the ranch immediately!" "you must not do so, mrs. jester; it's as much as your life is worth to attempt it," said she. but i thought only of the money, and notwithstanding warning and entreaty, mounted my horse and flew back on the homeward path, not even daring to look once toward the foothills. when i reached the house, i called to the overseer: "the indians are on the war-path, and the foothills are full of them! have two or three men ready to escort me to the fort by the time i have my valise packed." "why, mrs. jester," was the reply, "there are no indians in sight." "but there are," said i. "i saw them as plainly as i see you, and the ericksons saw them, too." "you have been the victim of a mirage," said the overseer. "look! there are no indians now in view." i scanned the foothills closely, but there was no sign of a warrior. with my field-glasses i searched the entire rim of the horizon; it was tranquillity itself. i experienced a great relief, nevertheless. my nerves were so shaken that i could not remain at home; so i packed a valise, taking along the package of bank-notes, and visited another neighbor, a mrs. mcdonald, a dear friend of many years' standing, who lived nearer the fort. this excellent woman was an old resident of the frontier. after she had heard my story, she related some of her own indian experiences. when she first settled in her present home, there was no fort to which she could flee from indian molestation, and she was often compelled to rely upon her wits to extricate her from dangerous situations. the story that especially impressed me was the following: "one evening when i was alone," said mrs. mcdonald, "i became conscious that eyes were peering at me from the darkness outside my window. flight was impossible, and my husband would not likely reach home for an hour or more. what should i do? a happy thought came to me. you know, perhaps, that indians, for some reason, have a strange fear of a drunken woman, and will not molest one. i took from a closet a bottle filled with a dark-colored liquid, poured out a glassful and drank it. in a few minutes i repeated the dose, and then seemingly it began to take effect. i would try to walk across the room, staggering and nearly falling. i became uproariously 'happy.' i flung my arms above my head, lurched from side to side, sang a maudlin song, and laughed loudly and foolishly. the stratagem succeeded. one by one the shadowy faces at the window disappeared, and by the time my husband and the men returned there was not an indian in the neighborhood. i became sober immediately. molasses and water is not a very intoxicating beverage." i plucked up courage to return to the ranch that evening, and shortly afterward the hunting-party rode up. when i related the story of my fright, mr. bent complimented me upon what he was pleased to call my courage. "you are your brother's own sister," said he. "we'll make you banker again." "thank you, but i do not believe you will," said i. "i have had all the experience i wish for in the banking business in this indian country." upon another occasion indians were approaching the fort from the farther side, but as we were not regarded as in danger, no warning was sent to us. the troops sallied out after the redskins, and the cunning warriors described a circle. to hide their trail they set fire to the prairie, and the hills about us were soon ablaze. the flames spread swiftly, and the smoke rolled upon us in suffocating volume. we retreated to the river, and managed to exist by dashing water upon our faces. here we were found by soldiers sent from the fort to warn settlers of their peril, and at their suggestion we returned to the ranch, saddled horses, and rode through the dense smoke five miles to the fort. it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. in the preceding chapter mention was made of the finding of a remarkable bone. it became famous, and in the summer of 1871 professor marsh, of yale college, brought out a party of students to search for fossils. they found a number, but were not rewarded by anything the most credulous could torture into a human relic. this summer also witnessed an indian campaign somewhat out of the common in several of its details. more than one volume would be required to record all the adventures scout cody had with the children of the plains, most of which had so many points in common that it is necessary to touch upon only those containing incidents out of the ordinary. an expedition, under command of general duncan, was fitted out for the republican river country. duncan was a jolly officer and a born fighter. his brother officers had a story that once on a time he had been shot in the head by a cannon-ball, and that while he was not hurt a particle, the ball glanced off and killed one of the toughest mules in the army. perhaps it was because the pawnees spoke so little english, and spoke that little so badly, that general duncan insisted upon their repeating the english call, which would be something like this: "post number one. nine o'clock. all's well." the pawnee effort to obey was so ludicrous, and provocative of such profanity (which they could express passing well), that the order was countermanded. one afternoon major north and will rode ahead of the command to select a site for the night's camp. they ran into a band of some fifty indians, and were obliged to take the back track as fast as their horses could travel. will's whip was shot from his hand and a hole put through his hat. as they sighted the advance-guard of the command, major north rode around in a circle--a signal to the pawnees that hostiles were near. instantly the pawnees broke ranks and dashed pell-mell to the relief of their white chief. the hostiles now took a turn at retreating, and kept it up for several miles. the troops took up the trail on the following day, and a stern chase set in. in passing through a deserted camp the troops found an aged squaw, who had been left to die. the soldiers built a lodge for her, and she was provided with sufficient rations to last her until she reached the indian heaven, the happy hunting-grounds. she was in no haste, however, to get to her destination, and on their return the troops took her to the fort with them. later she was sent to the spotted tail agency. in september of 1871 general sheridan and a party of friends arrived at the post for a grand hunt. between him and will existed a warm friendship, which continued to the close of the general's life. great preparations were made for the hunt. general emory, now commander of the fort, sent a troop of cavalry to meet the distinguished visitors at the station and escort them to the fort. besides general sheridan, there were in the party leonard and lawrence jerome, carroll livingstone, james gordon bennett, j. g. heckscher, general fitzhugh, schuyler crosby, dr. asch, mr. mccarthy, and other well-known men. when they reached the post they found the regiment drawn up on dress parade; the band struck up a martial air, the cavalry were reviewed by general sheridan, and the formalities of the occasion were regarded as over. it was sheridan's request that will should act as guide and scout for the hunting-party. one hundred troopers under major brown were detailed as escort, and the commissary department fairly bulged. several ambulances were also taken along, for the comfort of those who might weary of the saddle. game was abundant, and rare sport was had. buffalo, elk, and deer were everywhere, and to those of the party who were new to western life the prairie-dog villages were objects of much interest. these villages are often of great extent. they are made up of countless burrows, and so honeycombed is the country infested by the little animals that travel after nightfall is perilous for horses. the dirt is heaped around the entrance to the burrows a foot high, and here the prairie-dogs, who are sociability itself, sit on their hind legs and gossip with one another. owls and rattlesnakes share the underground homes with the rightful owners, and all get along together famously. when the hunting-party returned to mcpherson its members voted will a veritable nimrod--a mighty hunter, and he was abundantly thanked for his masterly guidance of the expedition. that winter a still more distinguished party visited the post--the grand duke alexis and his friends. as many of my readers will recall, the nobleman's visit aroused much enthusiasm in this country. the east had wined and dined him to satiety, but wining and dining are common to all nations, and the grand duke desired to see the wild life of america--the indian in his tepee and the prairie monarch in his domain, as well as the hardy frontiersman, who feared neither savage warrior nor savage beast. the grand duke had hunted big game in eastern lands, and he was a capital shot. general sheridan engineered this expedition also, and, as on the previous occasion, he relied upon will to make it a success. the latter received word to select a good camp on red willow creek, where game was plentiful, and to make all needed arrangements for the comfort and entertainment of the noble party. a special feature suggested by sheridan for the amusement and instruction of the continental guests was an indian war-dance and indian buffalo-hunt. to procure this entertainment it was necessary to visit spotted tail, chief of the sioux, and persuade him to bring over a hundred warriors. at this time there was peace between the sioux and the government, and the dance idea was feasible; nevertheless, a visit to the sioux camp was not without its dangers. spotted tail himself was seemingly sincere in a desire to observe the terms of the ostensible peace between his people and the authorities, but many of the other indians would rather have had the scalp of the long-haired chief than a century of peace. will so timed his trip as to reach the indian camp at dusk, and hitching his horse in the timber, he wrapped his blanket closely about him, so that in the gathering darkness he might easily pass for a warrior. thus invested, he entered the village, and proceeded to the lodge of spotted tail. the conference with the distinguished redskin was made smooth sailing by agent todd randall, who happened to be on hand, and who acted as interpreter. the old chief felt honored by the invitation extended to him, and readily promised that in "ten sleeps" from that night he, with a hundred warriors, would be present at the white man's camp, which was to be pitched at the point where the government trail crossed red willow creek. as spotted tail did not repose a great amount of confidence in his high-spirited young men, he kept will in his own lodge through the night. in the morning the chief assembled the camp, and presenting his guest, asked if his warriors knew him. "it is pa-has-ka, the long-haired chief!" they answered. whereupon spotted tail informed them that he had eaten bread with the long-haired chief, thus establishing a bond of friendship, against violating which the warriors were properly warned. after that will was entirely at his ease, although there were many sullen faces about him. they had long yearned for his scalp, and it was slightly irritating to find it so near and yet so far. chapter xxi. -the hunt of the grand duke alexis. a special train brought the grand duke alexis and party to north platte on january 12, 1872. will was presented to the illustrious visitor by general sheridan, and was much interested in him. he was also pleased to note that general custer made one of the party. will had made all the arrangements, and had everything complete when the train pulled in. as soon as the grand duke and party had breakfasted, they filed out to get their horses or to find seats in the ambulances. all who were mounted were arranged according to rank. will had sent one of his guides ahead, while he was to remain behind to see that nothing was left undone. just as they were to start, the conductor of the grand duke's train came up to will and said that mr. thompson had not received a horse. "what thompson?" asked will. "why, mr. frank thompson, who has charge of the grand duke's train." will looked over the list of names sent him by general sheridan of those who would require saddle-horses, but failed to find that of mr. thompson. however, he did not wish to have mr. thompson or any one else left out. he had following him, as he always did, his celebrated war-horse, "buckskin joe." this horse was not a very prepossessing "insect." he was buckskin in color, and rather a sorry-looking animal, but he was known all over the frontier as the greatest long-distance and best buffalo-horse living. will had never allowed any one but himself to ride this horse, but as he had no other there at the time, he got a saddle and bridle, had it put on old buckskin joe, and told mr. thompson he could ride him until he got where he could get him another. this horse looked so different from the beautiful animals the rest of the party were supplied with that mr. thompson thought it rather discourteous to mount him in such fashion. however, he got on, and will told him to follow up, as he wanted to go ahead to where the general was. as mr. thompson rode past the wagons and ambulances he noticed the teamsters pointing at him, and thinking the men were guying him, rode up to one of them, and said, "am i not riding this horse all right?" mr. thompson felt some personal pride in his horsemanship, as he was a pennsylvania fox-hunter. the driver replied, "yes, sir; you ride all right." "well, then," said thompson, "it must be this horse you are guying." the teamster replied: "guying that horse? not in a thousand years!" "well, then, why am i such a conspicuous object?" "why, sir, are you not the king?" "the king? why did you take me for the king?" "because you are riding that horse. i guess you don't know what horse you are riding, do you? nobody gets to ride that horse but buffalo bill. so when we all saw you riding him we supposed that of course you were the king, for that horse, sir, is buckskin joe." thompson had heard general sheridan telling about buckskin joe on the way out, and how buffalo bill had once run him eighty miles when the indians were after him. thompson told will afterward that he grew about four feet when he found out that he was riding that most celebrated horse of the plains. he at once galloped ahead to overtake will and thank him most heartily for allowing him the honor of such a mount. will told him that he was going to let the grand duke kill his first buffalo on buckskin joe. "well," replied thompson, "i want to ask one favor of you. let me also kill a buffalo on this horse." will replied that nothing would afford him greater pleasure. buckskin joe was covered with glory on this memorable hunt, as both the grand duke of russia and mr. frank thompson, later president of the pennsylvania railroad, killed their first buffalo mounted on his back, and my brother ascribes to old joe the acquisition of mr. frank thompson's name to his list of life friendships. this hunt was an unqualified success, nothing occurring to mar one day of it. spotted tail was true to his promise. he and his hundred braves were on hand, shining in the full glory of war paint and feathers, and the war-dance they performed was of extraordinary interest to the grand duke and his friends. the outlandish contortions and grimaces of the indians, their leaps and crouchings, their fiendish yells and whoops, made up a barbaric jangle of picture and sound not soon to be forgotten. to the european visitors the scene was picturesque rather than ghastly, but it was not a pleasing spectacle to the old indian fighters looking on. there were too many suggestions of bloodshed and massacre in the past, and of bloodshed and massacre yet to come. the indian buffalo-hunt followed the terpsichorean revelry, and all could enjoy the skill and strength displayed by the red huntsmen. one warrior, two-lance by name, performed a feat that no other living indian could do; he sent an arrow entirely through the body of a bull running at full speed. general sheridan desired that the grand duke should carry away with him a knowledge of every phase of life on the frontier, and when the visitors were ready to drive to the railroad station, will was requested to illustrate, for their edification, the manner in which a stagecoach and six were driven over the rocky mountains. will was delighted at the idea; so was alexis at the outset, as he had little idea of what was in store for him. the grand duke and the general were seated in a closed carriage drawn by six horses, and were cautioned to fasten their hats securely on their heads, and to hang onto the carriage; then will climbed to the driver's seat. "just imagine," said he to his passengers, "that fifty indians are after us." and off went the horses, with a jump that nearly spilled the occupants of the coach into the road. the three miles to the station were covered in just ten minutes, and the grand duke had the ride of his life. the carriage tossed like a ship in a gale, and no crew ever clung to a life-line with more desperate grip than did will's passengers to their seats. had the fifty indians of the driver's fancy been whooping behind, he would not have plied the whip more industriously, or been deafer to the groans and ejaculations of his fares. when the carriage finally drew up with another teeth-shaking jerk, and will, sombrero in hand, opened the coach door to inquire of his highness how he had enjoyed the ride, the grand duke replied, with suspicious enthusiasm: "i would not have missed it for a large sum of money; but rather than repeat it, i would return to russia via alaska, swim bering strait, and finish my journey on one of your government mules." this ride completed a trip which the noble party pronounced satisfactory in every detail. the grand duke invited will into his private car, where he received the thanks of the company for his zeal and skill as pilot of a hunting-party. he was also invited by alexis to visit him at his palace should he ever make a journey to russia, and was, moreover, the recipient of a number of valuable souvenirs. at that time will had very little thought of crossing the seas, but he did decide to visit the east, whither he had more than once journeyed in fancy. the indians were comparatively quiet, and he readily obtained a leave of absence. the first stopping-place was chicago, where he was entertained by general sheridan; thence he went to new york, to be kindly received by james gordon bennett, leonard and lawrence jerome, j. g. heckscher, and others, who, it will be recalled, were members of the hunting-party of the preceding year. ned buntline also rendered his sojourn in the metropolis pleasant in many ways. the author had carried out his intention of writing a story of western life with scout cody for the hero, and the result, having been dramatized, was doing a flourishing business at one of the great city's theaters. will made one of a party that attended a performance of the play one evening, and it was shortly whispered about the house that "buffalo bill" himself was in the audience. it is customary to call for the author of a play, and no doubt the author of this play had been summoned before the footlights in due course, but on this night the audience demanded the hero. to respond to the call was an ordeal for which will was unprepared; but there was no getting out of it, and he faced a storm of applause. the manager of the performance, enterprising like all of his profession, offered will five hundred dollars a week to remain in new york and play the part of "buffalo bill," but the offer was declined with thanks. during his stay in the city will was made the guest of honor at sundry luncheons and dinners given by his wealthy entertainers. he found considerable trouble in keeping his appointments at first, but soon caught on to the to him unreasonable hours at which new yorkers dined, supped, and breakfasted. the sense of his social obligations lay so heavily on his mind that he resolved to balance accounts with a dinner at which he should be the host. an inventory of cash on hand discovered the sum of fifty dollars that might be devoted to playing lucullus. surely that would more than pay for all that ten or a dozen men could eat at one meal. "however," he said to himself, "i don't care if it takes the whole fifty. it's all in a lifetime, anyway." in all confidence he hied him to delmonico's, at which famous restaurant he had incurred a large share of his social obligations. he ordered the finest dinner that could be prepared for a party of twelve, and set as date the night preceding his departure for the west. the guests were invited with genuine western hospitality. his friends had been kind to him, and he desired to show them that a man of the west could not only appreciate such things, but return them. the dinner was a thorough success. not an invited guest was absent. the conversation sparkled. quip and repartee shot across the "festive board," and all went merry as a dinner-bell. the host was satisfied, and proud withal. the next morning he approached delmonico's cashier with an air of reckless prodigality. "my bill, please," said he, and when he got it, he looked hard at it for several minutes. it dawned on him gradually that his fifty dollars would about pay for one plate. as he confided to us afterward, that little slip of paper frightened him more than could the prospect of a combat single-handed with a whole tribe of sioux indians. unsophisticated will! there was, as he discovered, a wonderful difference between a dinner at delmonico's and a dinner on the plains. for the one, the four corners of the earth are drawn upon to provide the bill of fare; for the other, all one needs is an ounce of lead and a charge of powder, a bundle of fagots and a match. but it would never do to permit the restaurant cashier to suspect that the royal entertainer of the night before was astonished at his bill; so he requested that the account be forwarded to his hotel, and sought the open air, where he might breathe more freely. there was but one man in new york to whom he felt he could turn in his dilemma, and that was ned buntline. one who could invent plots for stories, and extricate his characters from all sorts of embarrassing situations, should be able to invent a method of escape from so comparatively simple a perplexity as a tavern bill. will's confidence in the wits of his friend was not unfounded. his first great financial panic was safely weathered, but how it was done i do not know to this day. one of will's main reasons for visiting the east was to look up our only living relatives on mother's side--colonel henry r. guss and family, of westchester, pennsylvania. mother's sister, who had married this gentleman, was not living, and we had never met him or any of his family. ned buntline accompanied will on his trip to westchester. to those who have passed through the experience of waiting in a strange drawing-room for the coming of relatives one has never seen, and of whose personality one has but the vaguest idea, there is the uncertainty of the reception. will it be frank and hearty, or reserved and doubtful? during the few minutes succeeding the giving of his and buntline's cards to the servant, will rather wished that the elegant reception-room might be metamorphosed into the western prairie. but presently the entrance to the parlor was brightened by the loveliest girl he had ever looked upon, and following her walked a courtly, elegant gentleman. these were cousin lizzie and uncle henry. there was no doubt of the quality of the welcome; it was most cordial, and will enjoyed a delightful visit with his relatives. for his cousin he conceived an instant affection. the love he had held for his mother--the purest and strongest of his affections--became the heritage of this beautiful girl. chapter xxii. -theatrical experiences. the fifth cavalry at fort mcpherson had been ordered to arizona, and was replaced by the third cavalry under command of general reynolds. upon will's return to mcpherson he was at once obliged to take the field to look for indians that had raided the station during his absence and carried off a considerable number of horses. captain meinhold and lieutenant lawson commanded the company dispatched to recover the stolen property. will acted as guide, and had as an assistant t. b. omohundro, better known by his frontier name of "texas jack." will was not long in finding indian tracks, and accompanied by six men, he went forward to locate the redskin camp. they had proceeded but a short distance when they sighted a small party of indians, with horses grazing. there were just thirteen indians--an unlucky number--and will feared that they might discover the scouting party should it attempt to return to the main command. he had but to question his companions to find them ready to follow wheresoever he might lead, and they moved cautiously toward the indian camp. at the proper moment the seven rushed upon the unsuspecting warriors, who sprang for their horses and gave battle. but the rattle of the rifles brought captain meinhold to the scene, and when the indians saw the reinforcements coming up they turned and fled. six of their number were dead on the plain, and nearly all of the stolen horses were recovered. one soldier was killed, and this was one of the few occasions when will received a wound. and now once more was the versatile plainsman called upon to enact a new role. returning from a long scout in the fall of 1872, he found that his friends had made him a candidate for the nebraska legislature from the twenty-sixth district. he had never thought seriously of politics, and had a well-defined doubt of his fitness as a law-maker. he made no campaign, but was elected by a flattering majority. he was now privileged to prefix the title "honorable" to his name, and later this was supplanted by "colonel"--a title won in the nebraska national guard, and which he claims is much better suited to his attainments. will, unlike his father, had no taste for politics or for political honors. i recall one answer--so characteristic of the man--to some friends who were urging him to enter the political arena. "no," said he, "politics are by far too deep for me. i think i can hold my own in any fair and no foul fight; but politics seem to me all foul and no fair. i thank you, my friends, but i must decline to set out on this trail, which i know has more cactus burs to the square inch than any i ever followed on the plains." meantime ned buntline had been nurturing an ambitious project. he had been much impressed by the fine appearance made by will in the new york theater, and was confident that a fortune awaited the scout if he would consent to enter the theatrical profession. he conceived the idea of writing a drama entitled "the scout of the plains," in which will was to assume the title role and shine as a star of the first magnitude. the bait he dangled was that the play should be made up entirely of frontier scenes, which would not only entertain the public, but instruct it. the bait was nibbled at, and finally swallowed, but there was a proviso that wild bill and texas jack must first be won over to act as "pards" in the enterprise. he telegraphed his two friends that he needed their aid in an important business matter, and went to chicago to meet them. he was well assured that if he had given them an inkling of the nature of the "business matter," neither would put in an appearance; but he relied on ned buntline's persuasive powers, which were well developed. there had never been a time when wild bill and texas jack declined to follow will's lead, and on a certain morning the trio presented themselves at the palmer house in chicago for an interview with colonel judson. the author could scarcely restrain his delight. all three of the scouts were men of fine physique and dashing appearance. it was very possible that they had one or two things to learn about acting, but their inexperience would be more than balanced by their reputation and personal appearance, and the knowledge that they were enacting on the stage mock scenes of what to them had oft been stern reality. "don't shoot, pards!" began will, when the conference opened. "i guess, judson," he continued, after vainly trying to find a diplomatic explanation, "you'd better tell them what we want." buntline opened with enthusiasm, but he did not kindle wild bill and texas jack, who looked as if they might at any moment grab their sombreros and stampede for the frontier. will turned the scale. "we're bound to make a fortune at it," said he. "try it for a while, anyway." the upshot of a long discussion was that the scouts gave a reluctant consent to a much-dreaded venture. will made one stipulation. "if the indians get on the rampage," said he, "we must be allowed leave of absence to go back and settle them." "all right, boys," said buntline; "that shall be put in the contract. and if you're called back into the army to fight redskins, i'll go with you." this reply established the author firmly in the esteem of the scouts. the play was written in four hours (most playwrights allow themselves at least a week), and the actor-scouts received their "parts." buntline engaged a company to support the stellar trio, and the play was widely advertised. when the critical "first night" arrived, none of the scouts knew a line of his part, but each had acquired all the varieties of stage fright known to the profession. buntline had hinted to them the possibility of something of the sort, but they had not realized to what a condition of abject dismay a man may be reduced by the sight of a few hundred inoffensive people in front of a theater curtain. it would have done them no good to have told them (as is the truth) that many experienced actors have touches of stage fright, as well as the unfortunate novice. all three declared that they would rather face a band of war-painted indians, or undertake to check a herd of stampeding buffaloes, than face the peaceful-looking audience that was waiting to criticise their thespian efforts. like almost all amateurs, they insisted on peering through the peep-holes in the curtain, which augmented their nervousness, and if the persuasive colonel judson had not been at their elbows, reminding them that he, also, was to take part in the play, it is more than likely they would have slipped quietly out at the stage door and bought railway passage to the west. presently the curtain rolled up, and the audience applauded encouragingly as three quaking six-footers, clad in buckskin, made their first bow before the footlights. i have said that will did not know a line of his part, nor did he when the time to make his opening speech arrived. it had been faithfully memorized, but oozed from his mind like the courage from bob acres's finger-tips. "evidently," thought buntline, who was on the stage with him, "he needs time to recover." so he asked carelessly: "what have you been about lately, bill?" this gave "the scout of the plains" an inspiration. in glancing over the audience, he had recognized in one of the boxes a wealthy gentleman named milligan, whom he had once guided on a big hunt near mcpherson. the expedition had been written up by the chicago papers, and the incidents of it were well known. "i've been out on a hunt with milligan," replied will, and the house came down. milligan was quite popular, but had been the butt of innumerable jokes because of his alleged scare over the indians. the applause and laughter that greeted the sally stocked the scout with confidence, but confidence is of no use if one has forgotten his part. it became manifest to the playwright-actor that he would have to prepare another play in place of the one he had expected to perform, and that he must prepare it on the spot. "tell us about it, bill," said he, and the prompter groaned. one of the pleasures of frontier life consists in telling stories around the camp-fire. a man who ranks as a good frontiersman is pretty sure to be a good raconteur. will was at ease immediately, and proceeded to relate the story of milligan's hunt in his own words. that it was amusing was attested by the frequent rounds of applause. the prompter, with a commendable desire to get things running smoothly, tried again and again to give will his cue, but even cues had been forgotten. the dialogue of that performance must have been delightfully absurd. neither texas jack nor wild bill was able to utter a line of his part during the entire evening. in the indian scenes, however, they scored a great success; here was work that did not need to be painfully memorized, and the mock red men were slain at an astonishing rate. financially the play proved all that its projectors could ask for. artistically--well, the critics had a great deal of fun with the hapless dramatist. the professionals in the company had played their parts acceptably, and, oddly enough, the scouts were let down gently in the criticisms; but the critics had no means of knowing that the stars of the piece had provided their own dialogue, and poor ned buntline was plastered with ridicule. it had got out that the play was written in four hours, and in mentioning this fact, one paper wondered, with delicate sarcasm, what the dramatist had been doing all that time. buntline had played the part of "gale durg," who met death in the second act, and a second paper, commenting on this, suggested that it would have been a happy consummation had the death occurred before the play was written. a third critic pronounced it a drama that might be begun in the middle and played both ways, or played backward, quite as well as the way in which it had been written. however, nothing succeeds like success. a number of managers offered to take hold of the company, and others asked for entrance to the enterprise as partners. ned buntline took his medicine from the critics with a smiling face, for "let him laugh who wins." the scouts soon got over their stage fright, in the course of time were able to remember their parts, and did fully their share toward making the play as much of a success artistically as it was financially. from chicago the company went to st. louis, thence to cincinnati and other large cities, and everywhere drew large and appreciative houses. when the season closed, in boston, and will had made his preparations to return to nebraska, an english gentleman named medley, presented himself, with a request that the scout act as guide on a big hunt and camping trip through western territory. the pay offered was liberal--a thousand dollars a month and expenses--and will accepted the offer. he spent that summer in his old occupation, and the ensuing winter continued his tour as a star of the drama. wild bill and texas jack consented again to "support" him, but the second season proved too much for the patience of the former, and he attempted to break through the contract he had signed for the season. the manager, of course, refused to release him, but wild bill conceived the notion that under certain circumstances the company would be glad to get rid of him. that night he put his plan into execution by discharging his blank cartridges so near the legs of the dead indians on the stage that the startled "supers" came to life with more realistic yells than had accompanied their deaths. this was a bit of "business" not called for in the play-book, and while the audience was vastly entertained, the management withheld its approval. will was delegated to expostulate with the reckless indian-slayer; but wild bill remarked calmly that he "hadn't hurt the fellows any," and he continued to indulge in his innocent pastime. severe measures were next resorted to. he was informed that he must stop shooting the indians after they were dead, or leave the company. this was what wild bill had hoped for, and when the curtain went up on the next performance he was to be seen in the audience, enjoying the play for the first time since he had been mixed up with it. will sympathized with his former "support," but he had a duty to perform, and faithfully endeavored to persuade the recreant actor to return to the company. persuasion went for nothing, so the contract was annulled, and wild bill returned to his beloved plains. the next season will removed his family to rochester, and organized a theatrical company of his own. there was too much artificiality about stage life to suit one that had been accustomed to stern reality, and he sought to do away with this as much as possible by introducing into his own company a band of real indians. the season of 1875-76 opened brilliantly; the company played to crowded houses, and will made a large financial success. one night in april, when the season was nearing its close, a telegram was handed to him, just as he was about to step upon the stage. it was from his wife, and summoned him to rochester, to the bedside of his only son, kit carson cody. he consulted with his manager, and it was arranged that after the first act he should be excused, that he might catch the train. that first act was a miserable experience, though the audience did not suspect that the actor's heart was almost stopped by fear and anxiety. he caught his train, and the manager, john burke, an actor of much experience, played out the part. it was, too, a miserable ride to rochester, filled up with the gloomiest of forebodings, heightened by memories of every incident in the precious little life now in danger. kit was a handsome child, with striking features and curly hair. his mother always dressed him in the finest clothes, and tempted by these combined attractions, gypsies had carried him away the previous summer. but kit was the son of a scout, and his young eyes were sharp. he marked the trail followed by his captors, and at the first opportunity gave them the slip and got safely home, exclaiming as he toddled into the sobbing family circle, "i tumed back adain, mama; don't cry." despite his anxiety, will smiled at the recollection of the season when his little son had been a regular visitor at the theater. the little fellow knew that the most important feature of a dramatic performance, from a management's point of view, is a large audience. he watched the seats fill in keen anxiety, and the moment the curtain rose and his father appeared on the stage, he would make a trumpet of his little hands, and shout from his box, "good house, papa!" the audience learned to expect and enjoy this bit of by-play between father and son. his duty performed, kit settled himself in his seat, and gave himself up to undisturbed enjoyment of the play. when will reached rochester he found his son still alive, though beyond the reach of medical aid. he was burning up with fever, but still conscious, and the little arms were joyfully lifted to clasp around his father's neck. he lingered during the next day and into the night, but the end came, and will faced a great sorrow of his life. he had built fond hopes for his son, and in a breath they had been swept away. his boyhood musings over the prophecy of the fortune-teller had taken a turn when his own boy was born. it might be kit's destiny to become president of the united states; it was not his own. now, hope and fear had vanished together, the fabric of the dream had dissolved, and left "not a rack behind." little kit was laid to rest in mount hope cemetery, april 24, 1876. he is not dead, but sleeping; not lost, but gone before. he has joined the innumerable company of the white-souled throng in the regions of the blest. he has gone to aid my mother in her mission unfulfilled--that of turning heavenward the eyes of those that loved them so dearly here on earth. chapter xxiii. -the government's indian policy. very glad was the sad-hearted father that the theatrical season was so nearly over. the mummeries of stage life were more distasteful to him than ever when he returned to his company with his crushing grief fresh upon him. he played nightly to crowded houses, but it was plain that his heart was not in his work. a letter from colonel mills, informing him that his services were needed in the army, came as a welcome relief. he canceled his few remaining dates, and disbanded his company with a substantial remuneration. this was the spring of the centennial year. it has also been called the "custer year," for during that summer the gallant general and his heroic three hundred fell in their unequal contest with sitting bull and his warriors. sitting bull was one of the ablest chiefs and fighters the sioux nation ever produced. he got his name from the fact that once when he had shot a buffalo he sprang astride of it to skin it, and the wounded bull rose on its haunches with the indian on its back. he combined native indian cunning with the strategy and finesse needed to make a great general, and his ability as a leader was conceded alike by red and white man. a dangerous man at best, the wrongs his people had suffered roused all his indian cruelty, vindictiveness, hatred, and thirst for revenge. the sioux war of 1876 had its origin, like most of its predecessors and successors, in an act of injustice on the part of the united states government and a violation of treaty rights. in 1868 a treaty had been made with the sioux, by which the black hills country was reserved for their exclusive use, no settling by white men to be allowed. in 1874 gold was discovered, and the usual gold fever was followed by a rush of whites into the indian country. the sioux naturally resented the intrusion, and instead of attempting to placate them, to the end that the treaty might be revised, the government sent general custer into the black hills with instructions to intimidate the indians into submission. but custer was too wise, too familiar with indian nature, to adhere to his instructions to the letter. under cover of a flag of truce a council was arranged. at this gathering coffee, sugar, and bacon were distributed among the indians, and along with those commodities custer handed around some advice. this was to the effect that it would be to the advantage of the sioux if they permitted the miners to occupy the gold country. the coffee, sugar, and bacon were accepted thankfully by lo, but no nation, tribe, or individual since the world began has ever welcomed advice. it was thrown away on lo. he received it with such an air of indifference and in such a stoical silence that general custer had no hope his mission had succeeded. in 1875 general crook was sent into the hills to make a farcical demonstration of the government's desire to maintain good faith, but no one was deceived, the indians least of all. in august custer city was laid out, and in two weeks its population numbered six hundred. general crook drove out the inhabitants, and as he marched triumphantly out of one end of the village the people marched in again at the other. the result of this continued bad faith was inevitable; everywhere the sioux rose in arms. strange as it might seem to one who has not followed the government's remarkable indian policy, it had dispensed firearms to the indians with a generous hand. the government's indian policy, condensed, was to stock the red man with rifles and cartridges, and then provide him with a first-class reason for using them against the whites. during may, june, and july of that year the sioux had received 1,120 remington and winchester rifles and 13,000 rounds of patent ammunition. during that year they received several thousand stands of arms and more than a million rounds of ammunition, and for three years before that they had been regularly supplied with weapons. the sioux uprising of 1876 was expensive for the government. one does not have to go far to find the explanation. will expected to join general crook, but on reaching chicago he found that general carr was still in command of the fifth cavalry, and had sent a request that will return to his old regiment. carr was at cheyenne; thither will hastened at once. he was met at the station by captain charles king, the well-known author, and later serving as brigadier-general at manila, then adjutant of the regiment. as the pair rode into camp the cry went up, "here comes buffalo bill!" three ringing cheers expressed the delight of the troopers over his return to his old command, and will was equally delighted to meet his quondam companions. he was appointed guide and chief of scouts, and the regiment proceeded to laramie. from there they were ordered into the black hills country, and colonel merritt replaced general carr. the incidents of custer's fight and fall are so well known that it is not necessary to repeat them here. it was a better fight than the famous charge of the light brigade at balaklava, for not one of the three hundred came forth from the "jaws of death." as at balaklava, "some one had blundered," not once, but many times, and custer's command discharged the entire debt with their lifeblood. when the news of the tragedy reached the main army, preparations were made to move against the indians in force. the fifth cavalry was instructed to cut off, if possible, eight hundred cheyenne warriors on their way to join the sioux, and colonel wesley merritt, with five hundred men, hastened to hat, or war-bonnet, creek, purposing to reach the trail before the indians could do so. the creek was reached on the 17th of july, and at daylight the following morning will rode forth to ascertain whether the cheyennes had crossed the trail. they had not, but that very day the scout discerned the warriors coming up from the south. colonel merritt ordered his men to mount their horses, but to remain out of sight, while he, with his adjutant, charles king, accompanied will on a tour of observation. the cheyennes came directly toward the troops, and presently fifteen or twenty of them dashed off to the west along the trail the army had followed the night before. through his glass colonel merritt remarked two soldiers on the trail, doubtless couriers with dispatches, and these the indians manifestly designed to cut off. will suggested that it would be well to wait until the warriors were on the point of charging the couriers, when, if the colonel were willing, he would take a party of picked men and cut off the hostile delegation from the main body, which was just coming over the divide. the colonel acquiesced, and will, galloping back to camp, returned with fifteen men. the couriers were some four hundred yards away, and their indian pursuers two hundred behind them. colonel merritt gave the word to charge, and will and his men skurried toward the redskins. in the skirmish that ensued three indians were killed. the rest started for the main band of warriors, who had halted to watch the fight, but they were so hotly pursued by the soldiers that they turned at a point half a mile distant from colonel merritt, and another skirmish took place. here something a little out of the usual occurred--a challenge to a duel. a warrior, whose decorations and war-bonnet proclaimed him a chief, rode out in front of his men, and called out in his own tongue, which will could understand: "i know you, pa-has-ka! come and fight me, if you want to fight!" will rode forward fifty yards, and the warrior advanced a like distance. the two rifles spoke, and the indian's horse fell; but at the same moment will's horse stumbled into a gopher-hole and threw its rider. both duelists were instantly on their feet, confronting each other across a space of not more than twenty paces. they fired again simultaneously, and though will was unhurt, the indian fell dead. the duel over, some two hundred warriors dashed up to recover the chieftain's body and to avenge his death. it was now colonel merritt's turn to move. he dispatched a company of soldiers to will's aid, and then ordered the whole regiment to the charge. as the soldiers advanced, will swung the indian's topknot and war-bonnet which he had secured, and shouted, "the first scalp for custer!" the indians made a stubborn resistance, but as they found this useless, began a retreat toward red cloud agency, whence they had come. the retreat continued for thirty-five miles, the troops following into the agency. the fighting blood of the fifth was at fever heat, and they were ready to encounter the thousands of warriors at the agency should they exhibit a desire for battle. but they manifested no such desire. will learned that the name of the chief he had killed that morning was "yellow hand." he was the son of "cut nose," a leading spirit among the cheyennes. this old chieftain offered will four mules if he would return the war-bonnet and accouterments worn by the young warrior and captured in the fight, but will did not grant the request, much as he pitied cut nose in his grief. the fifth cavalry on the following morning started on its march to join general crook's command in the big horn mountains. the two commands united forces on the 3d of august, and marched to the confluence of the powder river with the yellowstone. here general miles met them, to report that no indians had crossed the stream. no other fight occurred; but will made himself useful in his capacity of scout. there were many long, hard rides, carrying dispatches that no one else would volunteer to bear. when he was assured that the fighting was all over, he took passage, in september, on the steamer "far west," and sailed down the missouri. people in the eastern states were wonderfully interested in the stirring events on the frontier, and will conceived the idea of putting the incidents of the sioux war upon the stage. upon his return to rochester he had a play written for his purpose, organized a company, and opened his season. previously he had paid a flying visit to red cloud agency, and induced a number of sioux indians to take part in his drama. the red men had no such painful experience as wild bill and texas jack. all they were expected to do in the way of acting was what came natural to them. their part was to introduce a bit of "local color," to give a war-dance, take part in a skirmish, or exhibit themselves in some typical indian fashion. at the close of this season will bought a large tract of land near north platte, and started a cattle-ranch. he already owned one some distance to the northward, in partnership with major north, the leader of the pawnee scouts. their friendship had strengthened since their first meeting, ten years before. in this new ranch will takes great pride. he has added to its area until it now covers seven thousand acres, and he has developed its resources to the utmost. twenty-five hundred acres are devoted to alfalfa and twenty-five hundred sown to corn. one of the features of interest to visitors is a wooded park, containing a number of deer and young buffaloes. near the park is a beautiful lake. in the center of the broad tract of land stands the picturesque building known as "scout's rest ranch," which, seen from the foothills, has the appearance of an old castle. the ranch is one of the most beautiful spots that one can imagine, and is, besides, an object-lesson in the value of scientific investigation and experiment joined with persistence and perseverance. when will bought the property he was an enthusiastic believer in the possibilities of nebraska development. his brother-in-law, mr. goodman, was put in charge of the place. the whole platte valley formed part of the district once miscalled the great american desert. it was an idea commonly accepted, but, as the sequel proved, erroneous, that lack of moisture was the cause of lack of vegetation. an irrigating ditch was constructed on the ranch, trees were planted, and it was hoped that with such an abundance of moisture they would spring up like weeds. vain hope! there was "water, water everywhere," but not a tree would grow. will visited his old kansas home, and the sight of tall and stately trees filled him with a desire to transport some of this beauty to his nebraska ranch. "i'd give five hundred dollars," said he, "for every tree i had like that in nebraska!" impressed by the proprietor's enthusiasm for arboreal development, mr. goodman began investigation and experiment. it took him but a short time to acquire a knowledge of the deficiencies of the soil, and this done, the bigger half of the problem was solved. indian legend tells us that this part of our country was once an inland sea. there is authority for the statement that to-day it is a vast subterranean reservoir, and the conditions warrant the assertion. the soil in all the region has a depth only of from one to three feet, while underlying the shallow arable deposit is one immense bedrock, varying in thickness, the average being from three to six feet. everywhere water may be tapped by digging through the thin soil and boring through the rock formation. the country gained its reputation as a desert, not from lack of moisture, but from lack of soil. in the pockets of the foothills, where a greater depth of soil had accumulated from the washings of the slopes above, beautiful little groves of trees might be found, and the islands of the platte river were heavily wooded. everywhere else was a treeless waste. the philosophy of the transformation from sea to plain is not fully understood. the most tenable theory yet advanced is that the bedrock is an alkaline deposit, left by the waters in a gradually widening and deepening margin. on this the prairie wind sifted its accumulation of dust, and the rain washed down its quota from the bank above. in the slow process of countless years the rock formation extended over the whole sea; the alluvial deposit deepened; seeds lodged in it, and the buffalo-grass and sage-brush began to grow, their yearly decay adding to the ever-thickening layer of soil. having learned the secret of the earth, mr. goodman devoted himself to the study of the trees. he investigated those varieties having lateral roots, to determine which would flourish best in a shallow soil. he experimented, he failed, and he tried again. all things come round to him who will but work. many experiments succeeded the first, and many failures followed in their train. but at last, like archimedes, he could cry "eureka! i have found it!" in a very short time he had the ranch charmingly laid out with rows of cottonwoods, box-elder, and other members of the tree family. the ranch looked like an oasis in the desert, and neighbors inquired into the secret of the magic that had worked so marvelous a transformation. the streets of north platte are now beautiful with trees, and adjoining farms grow many more. it is "scout's rest ranch," however, that is pointed out with pride to travelers on the union pacific railroad. mindful of his resolve to one day have a residence in north platte, will purchased the site on which his first residence was erected. his family had sojourned in rochester for several years, and when they returned to the west the new home was built according to the wishes and under the supervision of the wife and mother. to the dwelling was given the name "welcome wigwam." chapter xxiv. -literary work. it was during this period of his life that my brother's first literary venture was made. as the reader has seen, his school-days were few in number, and as he told mr. majors, in signing his first contract with him, he could use a rifle better than a pen. a life of constant action on the frontier does not leave a man much time for acquiring an education; so it is no great wonder that the first sketch will wrote for publication was destitute of punctuation and short of capitals in many places. his attention was directed to these shortcomings, but western life had cultivated a disdain for petty things. "life is too short," said he, "to make big letters when small ones will do; and as for punctuation, if my readers don't know enough to take their breath without those little marks, they'll have to lose it, that's all." but in spite of his jesting, it was characteristic of him that when he undertook anything he wished to do it well. he now had leisure for study, and he used it to such good advantage that he was soon able to send to the publishers a clean manuscript, grammatical, and well spelled, capitalized, and punctuated. the publishers appreciated the improvement, though they had sought after his work in its crude state, and paid good prices for it. our author would never consent to write anything except actual scenes from border life. as a sop to the cerberus of sensationalism, he did occasionally condescend to heighten his effects by exaggeration. in sending one story to the publisher he wrote: "i am sorry to have to lie so outrageously in this yarn. my hero has killed more indians on one war-trail than i have killed in all my life. but i understand this is what is expected in border tales. if you think the revolver and bowie-knife are used too freely, you may cut out a fatal shot or stab wherever you deem it wise." even this story, which one accustomed to border life confessed to be exaggerated, fell far short of the sensational and blood-curdling tales usually written, and was published exactly as the author wrote it. during the summer of 1877 i paid a visit to our relatives in westchester, pennsylvania. my husband had lost all his wealth before his death, and i was obliged to rely upon my brother for support. to meet a widespread demand, will this summer wrote his autobiography. it was published at hartford, connecticut, and i, anxious to do something for myself, took the general agency of the book for the state of ohio, spending a part of the summer there in pushing its sale. but i soon tired of a business life, and turning over the agency to other hands, went from cleveland to visit will at his new home in north platte, where there were a number of other guests at the time. besides his cattle-ranch in the vicinity of north platte, will had another ranch on the dismal river, sixty-five miles north, touching the dakota line. one day he remarked to us: "i'm sorry to leave you to your own resources for a few days, but i must take a run up to my ranch on dismal river." not since our early kansas trip had i had an experience in camping out, and in those days i was almost too young to appreciate it; but it had left me with a keen desire to try it again. "let us all go with you, will," i exclaimed. "we can camp out on the road." our friends added their approval, and will fell in with the suggestion at once. "there's no reason why you can't go if you wish to," said he. will owned numerous conveyances, and was able to provide ways and means to carry us all comfortably. lou and the two little girls, arta and orra, rode in an open phaeton. there were covered carriages, surreys, and a variety of turn-outs to transport the invited guests. several prominent citizens of north platte were invited to join the party, and when our arrangements were completed we numbered twenty-five. will took a caterer along, and made ample provisions for the inner man and woman. we knew, from long experience, that a camping trip without an abundance of food is rather a dreary affair. all of us except will were out for pleasure solely, and we found time to enjoy ourselves even during the first day's ride of twenty-five miles. as we looked around at the new and wild scenes while the tents were pitched for the night, will led the ladies of the party to a tree, saying: "you are the first white women whose feet have trod this region. carve your names here, and celebrate the event." after a good night's rest and a bounteous breakfast, we set out in high spirits, and were soon far out in the foothills. one who has never seen these peculiar formations can have but little idea of them. on every side, as far as the eye can see, undulations of earth stretch away like the waves of the ocean, and on them no vegetation flourishes save buffalo-grass, sage-brush, and the cactus, blooming but thorny. the second day i rode horseback, in company with will and one or two others of the party, over a constant succession of hill and vale; we mounted an elevation and descended its farther side, only to be confronted by another hill. the horseback party was somewhat in advance of those in carriages. from the top of one hill will scanned the country with his field-glass, and remarked that some deer were headed our way, and that we should have fresh venison for dinner. he directed us to ride down into the valley and tarry there, so that we might not startle the timid animals, while he continued part way up the hill and halted in position to get a good shot at the first one that came over the knoll. a fawn presently bounded into view, and will brought his rifle to his shoulder; but much to our surprise, instead of firing, dropped the weapon to his side. another fawn passed him before he fired, and as the little creature fell we rode up to will and began chaffing him unmercifully, one gentleman remarking: "it is difficult to believe we are in the presence of the crack shot of america, when we see him allow two deer to pass by before he brings one down." but to the laughing and chaffing will answered not a word, and recalling the childish story i had heard of his buck fever, i wondered if, at this late date, it were possible for him to have another attack of that kind. the deer was handed over to the commissary department, and we rode on. "will, what was the matter with you just now?" i asked him, privately. "why didn't you shoot that first deer; did you have another attack like you had when you were a little boy?" he rode along in silence for a few moments, and then turned to me with the query: "did you ever look into a deer's eyes?" and as i replied that i had not, he continued: "every one has his little weakness; mine is a deer's eye. i don't want you to say anything about it to your friends, for they would laugh more than ever, but the fact is i have never yet been able to shoot a deer if it looked me in the eye. with a buffalo, or a bear, or an indian, it is different. but a deer has the eye of a trusting child, soft, gentle, and confiding. no one but a brute could shoot a deer if he caught that look. the first that came over the knoll looked straight at me; i let it go by, and did not look at the second until i was sure it had passed me." he seemed somewhat ashamed of his soft-heartedness; yet to me it was but one of many little incidents that revealed a side of his nature the rough life of the frontier had not corrupted. will expected to reach the dismal river on the third day, and at noon of it he remarked that he had better ride ahead and give notice of our coming, for the man who looked after the ranch had his wife with him, and she would likely be dismayed at the thought of preparing supper for so large a crowd on a minute's notice. sister julia's son, will goodman, a lad of fifteen, was of our party, and he offered to be the courier. "are you sure you know the way?" asked his uncle. "oh, yes," was the confident response; "you know i have been over the road with you before, and i know just how to go." "well, tell me how you would go." young will described the trail so accurately that his uncle concluded it would be safe for him to undertake the trip, and the lad rode ahead, happy and important. it was late in the afternoon when we reached the ranch; and the greeting of the overseer was: "well, well; what's all this?" "didn't you know we were coming?" asked will, quickly. "hasn't will goodman been here?" the ranchman shook his head. "haven't seen him, sir," he replied, "since he was here with you before." "well, he'll be along," said will, quietly; but i detected a ring of anxiety in his voice. "go into the house and make yourselves comfortable," he added. "it will be some time before a meal can be prepared for such a supper party." we entered the house, but he remained outside, and mounting the stile that served as a gate, examined the nearer hills with his glass. there was no sign of will, jr.; so the ranchman was directed to dispatch five or six men in as many directions to search for the boy, and as they hastened away on their mission will remained on the stile, running his fingers every few minutes through the hair over his forehead--a characteristic action with him when worried. thinking i might reassure him, i came out and chided him gently for what i was pleased to regard as his needless anxiety. it was impossible for willie to lose his way very long, i explained, without knowing anything about my subject. "see how far you can look over these hills. it is not as if he were in the woods," said i. will looked at me steadily and pityingly for a moment. "go back in the house, nell," said he, with a touch of impatience; "you don't know what you are talking about." that was true enough, but when i returned obediently to the house i repeated my opinion that worry over the absent boy was needless, for it would be difficult, i declared, for one to lose himself where the range of vision was so extensive as it was from the top of one of these foothills. "but suppose," said one of the party, "that you were in the valley behind one of the foothills--what then?" this led to an animated discussion as to the danger of getting lost in this long-range locality, and in the midst of it will walked in, his equanimity quite restored. "it's all right," said he; "i can see the youngster coming along." we flocked to the stile, and discovered a moving speck in the distance. looked at through the field-glasses, it proved to be the belated courier. then we appealed to will to settle the question that had been under discussion. "ladies and gentlemen," he answered, impressively, "if one of you were lost among these foothills, and a whole regiment started out in search of you, the chances are ten to one that you would starve to death, to say the least, before you could be found." to find the way with ease and locate the trail unerringly over an endless and monotonous succession of hills identical in appearance is an ability the indian possesses, but few are the white men that can imitate the aborigine. i learned afterward that it was accounted one of will's great accomplishments as a scout that he was perfectly at home among the frozen waves of the prairie ocean. when the laggard arrived, and was pressed for particulars, he declared he had traveled eight or ten miles when he found that he was off the trail. "i thought i was lost," said he; "but after considering the matter i decided that i had one chance--that was to go back over my own tracks. the marks of my horse's hoofs led me out on the main trail, and your tracks were so fresh that i had no further trouble." "pretty good," said will, patting the boy's shoulder. "pretty good. you have some of the cody blood in you, that's plain." the next day was passed in looking over the ranch, and the day following we visited, at will's solicitation, a spot that he had named "the garden of the gods." our thoughtful host had sent ranchmen ahead to prepare the place for our reception, and we were as surprised and delighted as he could desire. a patch on the river's brink was filled with tall and stately trees and luxuriant shrubs, laden with fruits and flowers, while birds of every hue nested and sang about us. it was a miniature paradise in the midst of a desert of sage-brush and buffalo-grass. the interspaces of the grove were covered with rich green grass, and in one of these nature-carpeted nooks the workmen, under will's direction, had put up an arbor, with rustic seats and table. herein we ate our luncheon, and every sense was pleasured. as it was not likely that the women of the party would ever see the place again, so remote was it from civilization, belonging to the as yet uninhabited part of the western plains, we decided to explore it, in the hope of finding something that would serve as a souvenir. we had not gone far when we found ourselves out of eden and in the desert that surrounded it, but it was the desert that held our great discovery. on an isolated elevation stood a lone, tall tree, in the topmost branches of which reposed what seemed to be a large package. as soon as our imaginations got fairly to work the package became the hidden treasure of some prairie bandit, and while two of the party returned for our masculine forces the rest of us kept guard over the cachet in the treetop. will came up with the others, and when we pointed out to him the supposed chest of gold he smiled, saying that he was sorry to dissipate the hopes which the ladies had built in the tree, but that they were not gazing upon anything of intrinsic value, but on the open sepulcher of some departed brave. "it is a wonder," he remarked, laughingly, "you women didn't catch on to the skeleton in that closet." as we retraced our steps, somewhat crestfallen, we listened to the tale of another of the red man's superstitions. when some great chief, who particularly distinguishes himself on the war-path, loses his life on the battle-field without losing his scalp, he is regarded as especially favored by the great spirit. a more exalted sepulcher than mother earth is deemed fitting for such a warrior. accordingly he is wrapped in his blanket-shroud, and, in his war paint and feathers and with his weapons by his side, he is placed in the top of the highest tree in the neighborhood, the spot thenceforth being sacred against intrusion for a certain number of moons. at the end of that period messengers are dispatched to ascertain if the remains have been disturbed. if they have not, the departed is esteemed a spirit chief, who, in the happy hunting-grounds, intercedes for and leads on to sure victory the warriors who trusted to his leadership in the material world. we bade a reluctant adieu to the idyllic retreat, and threw it many a backward glance as we took our way over the desert that stretched between us and the ranch. here another night was passed, and then we set out for home. the brief sojourn "near to nature's heart" had been a delightful experience, holding for many of us the charm of novelty, and for all recreation and pleasant comradeship. with the opening of the theatrical season will returned to the stage, and his histrionic career continued for five years longer. as an actor he achieved a certain kind of success. he played in every large city of the united states, always to crowded houses, and was everywhere received with enthusiasm. there was no doubt of his financial success, whatever criticisms might be passed on the artistic side of his performance. it was his personality and reputation that interested his audiences. they did not expect the art of sir henry irving, and you may be sure that they did not receive it. will never enjoyed this part of his career; he endured it simply because it was the means to an end. he had not forgotten his boyish dream--his resolve that he would one day present to the world an exhibition that would give a realistic picture of life in the far west, depicting its dangers and privations, as well as its picturesque phases. his first theatrical season had shown him how favorably such an exhibition would be received, and his long-cherished ambition began to take shape. he knew that an enormous amount of money would be needed, and to acquire such a sum he lived for many years behind the footlights. i was present in a leavenworth theater during one of his last performances--one in which he played the part of a loving swain to a would-be charming lassie. when the curtain fell on the last act i went behind the scenes, in company with a party of friends, and congratulated the star upon his excellent acting. "oh, nellie," he groaned, "don't say anything about it. if heaven will forgive me this foolishness, i promise to quit it forever when this season is over." that was the way he felt about the stage, so far as his part in it was concerned. he was a fish out of water the feeble pretensions to a stern reality, and the mock dangers exploited, could not but fail to seem trivial to one who had lived the very scenes depicted. chapter xxv. -first visit to the valley of the big horn. my brother was again bereaved in 1880 by the death of his little daughter orra. at her own request, orra's body was interred in rochester, in beautiful mount hope cemetery, by the side of little kit carson. but joy follows upon sadness, and the summer before will spent his last season on the stage was a memorable one for him. it marked the birth of another daughter, who was christened irma. this daughter is the very apple of her father's eye; to her he gives the affection that is her due, and round her clings the halo of the tender memories of the other two that have departed this life. this year, 1882, was also the one in which will paid his first visit to the valley of the big horn. he had often traversed the outskirts of that region, and heard incredible tales from indians and trappers of its wonders and beauties, but he had yet to explore it himself. in his early experience as pony express rider, california joe had related to him the first story he had heard of the enchanted basin, and in 1875, when he was in charge of a large body of arapahoe indians that had been permitted to leave their reservation for a big hunt, he obtained more details. the agent warned will that some of the indians were dissatisfied, and might attempt to escape, but to all appearances, though he watched them sharply, they were entirely content. game was plentiful, the weather fine, and nothing seemed omitted from the red man's happiness. one night about twelve o'clock will was aroused by an indian guide, who informed him that a party of some two hundred arapahoes had started away some two hours before, and were on a journey northward. the red man does not wear his heart upon his sleeve for government daws to peck at. one knows what he proposes to do after he has done it. the red man is conspicuously among the things that are not always what they seem. pursuit was immediately set on foot, and the entire body of truant warriors were brought back without bloodshed. one of them, a young warrior, came to will's tent to beg for tobacco. the indian--as all know who have made his acquaintance--has no difficulty in reconciling begging with his native dignity. to work may be beneath him, to beg is a different matter, and there is frequently a delightful hauteur about his mendicancy. in this respect he is not unlike some of his white brothers. will gave the young chief the desired tobacco, and then questioned him closely concerning the attempted escape. "surely," said he, "you cannot find a more beautiful spot than this. the streams are full of fish, the grazing is good, the game is plentiful, and the weather is fine. what more could you desire?" the indian drew himself up. his face grew eager, and his eyes were full of longing as he answered, by the interpreter: "the land to the north and west is the land of plenty. there the buffalo grows larger; and his coat is darker. there the bu-yu (antelope) comes in droves, while here there are but few. there the whole region is covered with the short, curly grass our ponies like. there grow the wild plums that are good for my people in summer and winter. there are the springs of the great medicine man, tel-ya-ki-y. to bathe in them gives new life; to drink them cures every bodily ill. "in the mountains beyond the river of the blue water there is gold and silver, the metals that the white man loves. there lives the eagle, whose feathers the indian must have to make his war-bonnet. there, too, the sun shines always. "it is the ijis (heaven) of the red man. my heart cries for it. the hearts of my people are not happy when away from the eithity tugala." the indian folded his arms across his breast, and his eyes looked yearningly toward the country whose delights he had so vividly pictured; then he turned and walked sorrowfully away. the white man's government shut him out from the possession of his earthly paradise. will learned upon further inquiry that eithity tugala was the indian name of the big horn basin. in the summer of 1882 will's party of exploration left the cars at cheyenne, and struck out from this point with horses and pack-mules. will's eyes becoming inflamed, he was obliged to bandage them, and turn the guidance of the party over to a man known as "ready." for days he traveled in a blinded state, and though his eyes slowly bettered, he did not remove the bandage until the big horn basin was reached. they had paused for the midday siesta, and reddy inquired whether it would not be safe to uncover the afflicted eyes, adding that he thought will "would enjoy looking around a bit." off came the bandage, and i shall quote will's own words to describe the scene that met his delighted gaze: "to my right stretched a towering range of snow-capped mountains, broken here and there into minarets, obelisks, and spires. between me and this range of lofty peaks a long irregular line of stately cottonwoods told me a stream wound its way beneath. the rainbow-tinted carpet under me was formed of innumerable brilliant-hued wild flowers; it spread about me in every direction, and sloped gracefully to the stream. game of every kind played on the turf, and bright-hued birds flitted over it. it was a scene no mortal can satisfactorily describe. at such a moment a man, no matter what his creed, sees the hand of the mighty maker of the universe majestically displayed in the beauty of nature; he becomes sensibly conscious, too, of his own littleness. i uttered no word for very awe; i looked upon one of nature's masterpieces. "instantly my heart went out to my sorrowful arapahoe friend of 1875. he had not exaggerated; he had scarcely done the scene justice. he spoke of it as the ijis, the heaven of the red man. i regarded it then, and still regard it, as the mecca of all appreciative humanity." to the west of the big horn basin, hart mountain rises abruptly from the shoshone river. it is covered with grassy slopes and deep ravines; perpendicular rocks of every hue rise in various places and are fringed with evergreens. beyond this mountain, in the distance, towers the hoary head of table mountain. five miles to the southwest the mountains recede some distance from the river, and from its bank castle rock rises in solitary grandeur. as its name indicates, it has the appearance of a castle, with towers, turrets, bastions, and balconies. grand as is the western view, the chief beauty lies in the south. here the carter mountain lies along the entire distance, and the grassy spaces on its side furnish pasturage for the deer, antelope, and mountain sheep that abound in this favored region. fine timber, too, grows on its rugged slopes; jagged, picturesque rock-forms are seen in all directions, and numerous cold springs send up their welcome nectar. it is among the foothills nestling at the base of this mountain that will has chosen the site of his future permanent residence. here there are many little lakes, two of which are named irma and arta, in honor of his daughters. here he owns a ranch of forty thousand acres, but the home proper will comprise a tract of four hundred and eighty acres. the two lakes referred to are in this tract, and near them will proposes to erect a palatial residence. to him, as he has said, it is the mecca of earth, and thither he hastens the moment he is free from duty and obligation. in that enchanted region he forgets for a little season the cares and responsibilities of life. a curious legend is told of one of the lakes that lie on the border of this valley. it is small--half a mile long and a quarter wide--but its depth is fathomless. it is bordered and shadowed by tall and stately pines, quaking-asp and birch trees, and its waters are pure and ice-cold the year round. they are medicinal, too, and as yet almost unknown to white men. will heard the legend of the lake from the lips of an old cheyenne warrior. "it was the custom of my tribe," said the indian, "to assemble around this lake once every month, at the hour of midnight, when the moon is at its full. soon after midnight a canoe filled with the specters of departed cheyenne warriors shot out from the eastern side of the lake and crossed rapidly to the western border; there it suddenly disappeared. "never a word or sound escaped from the specters in the canoe. they sat rigid and silent, and swiftly plied their oars. all attempts to get a word from them were in vain. "so plainly were the canoe and its occupants seen that the features of the warriors were readily distinguished, and relatives and friends were recognized." for years, according to the legend, the regular monthly trip was made, and always from the eastern to the western border of the lake. in 1876 it suddenly ceased, and the indians were much alarmed. a party of them camped on the bank of the lake, and watchers were appointed for every night. it was fancied that the ghostly boatmen had changed the date of their excursion. but in three months there was no sign of canoe or canoeists, and this was regarded as an omen of evil. at a council of the medicine men, chiefs, and wiseacres of the tribe it was decided that the canoeing trip had been a signal from the great spirit--the canoe had proceeded from east to west, the course always followed by the red man. the specters had been sent from the happy hunting-grounds to indicate that the tribe should move farther west, and the sudden disappearance of the monthly signal was augured to mean the extinction of the race. once when will was standing on the border of this lake a sioux warrior came up to him. this man was unusually intelligent, and desired that his children should be educated. he sent his two sons to carlisle, and himself took great pains to learn the white man's religious beliefs, though he still clung to his old savage customs and superstitions. a short time before he talked with will large companies of indians had made pilgrimages to join one large conclave, for the purpose of celebrating the messiah, or "ghost dance." like all religious celebrations among savage people, it was accompanied by the grossest excesses and most revolting immoralities. as it was not known what serious happening these large gatherings might portend, the president, at the request of many people, sent troops to disperse the indians. the indians resisted, and blood was spilled, among the slain being the sons of the indian who stood by the side of the haunted lake. "it is written in the great book of the white man," said the old chief to will, "that the great spirit--the nan-tan-in-chor--is to come to him again on earth. the white men in the big villages go to their council-lodges (churches) and talk about the time of his coming. some say one time, some say another, but they all know the time will come, for it is written in the great book. it is the great and good among the white men that go to these council-lodges, and those that do not go say, 'it is well; we believe as they believe; he will come.' it is written in the great book of the white man that all the human beings on earth are the children of the one great spirit. he provides and cares for them. all he asks in return is that his children obey him, that they be good to one another, that they judge not one another, and that they do not kill or steal. have i spoken truly the words of the white man's book?" will bowed his head, somewhat surprised at the tone of the old chief's conversation. the other continued: "the red man, too, has a great book. you have never seen it; no white man has ever seen it; it is hidden here." he pressed his hand against his heart. "the teachings of the two books are the same. what the great spirit says to the white man, the nan-tan-in-chor says to the red man. we, too, go to our council-lodges to talk of the second coming. we have our ceremony, as the white man has his. the white man is solemn, sorrowful; the red man is happy and glad. we dance and are joyful, and the white man sends soldiers to shoot us down. does their great spirit tell them to do this? "in the big city (washington) where i have been, there is another big book (the federal constitution), which says the white man shall not interfere with the religious liberty of another. and yet they come out to our country and kill us when we show our joy to nan-tan-in-chor. "we rejoice over his second coming; the white man mourns, but he sends his soldiers to kill us in our rejoicing. bah! the white man is false. i return to my people, and to the customs and habits of my forefathers. i am an indian!" the old chief strode away with the dignity of a red caesar, and will, alone by the lake, reflected that every question has two sides to it. the one the red man has held in the case of the commonwealth versus the indian has ever been the tragic side. chapter xxvi. -tour of great britain. it was not until the spring of 1883 that will was able to put into execution his long-cherished plan--to present to the public an exhibition which should delineate in throbbing and realistic color, not only the wild life of america, but the actual history of the west, as it was lived for, fought for, died for, by indians, pioneers, and soldiers. the wigwam village; the indian war-dance; the chant to the great spirit as it was sung over the plains; the rise and fall of the famous tribes; the "forward, march!" of soldiers, and the building of frontier posts; the life of scouts and trappers; the hunt of the buffalo; the coming of the first settlers; their slow, perilous progress in the prairie schooners over the vast and desolate plains; the period of the deadwood stage and the pony express; the making of homes in the face of fire and indian massacre; united states cavalry on the firing-line, "death to the sioux!"--these are the great historic pictures of the wild west, stirring, genuine, heroic. it was a magnificent plan on a magnificent scale, and it achieved instant success. the adventurous phases of western life never fail to quicken the pulse of the east. an exhibition which embodied so much of the historic and picturesque, which resurrected a whole half-century of dead and dying events, events the most thrilling and dramatic in american history, naturally stirred up the interest of the entire country. the actors, too, were historic characters--no weakling imitators, but men of sand and grit, who had lived every inch of the life they pictured. the first presentation was given in may, 1883, at omaha, nebraska, the state will had chosen for his home. since then it has visited nearly every large city on the civilized globe, and has been viewed by countless thousands--men, women, and children of every nationality. it will long hold a place in history. the "grand entrance" alone has never failed to chain the interest of the onlooker. the furious galloping of the indian braves--sioux, arapahoe, brule, and cheyenne, all in war paint and feathers; the free dash of the mexicans and cowboys, as they follow the indians into line at break-neck speed; the black-bearded cossacks of the czar's light cavalry; the riffian arabs on their desert thoroughbreds; a cohort from the "queen's own" lancers; troopers from the german emperor's bodyguard; chasseurs and cuirassiers from the crack cavalry regiments of european standing armies; detachments from the united states cavalry and artillery; south american gauchos; cuban veterans; porto ricans; hawaiians; again frontiersmen, rough riders, texas rangers--all plunging with dash and spirit into the open, each company followed by its chieftain and its flag; forming into a solid square, tremulous with color; then a quicker note to the music; the galloping hoofs of another horse, the finest of them all, and "buffalo bill," riding with the wonderful ease and stately grace which only he who is "born to the saddle" can ever attain, enters under the flash of the lime-light, and sweeping off his sombrero, holds his head high, and with a ring of pride in his voice, advances before his great audience and exclaims: "ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce to you a congress of the rough riders of the world." as a child i wept over his disregard of the larger sphere predicted by the soothsayer; as a woman, i rejoice that he was true to his own ideals, for he sits his horse with a natural grace much better suited to the saddle than to the presidential chair. from the very beginning the "wild west" was an immense success. three years were spent in traveling over the united states; then will conceived the idea of visiting england, and exhibiting to the mother race the wild side of the child's life. this plan entailed enormous expense, but it was carried out successfully. still true to the state of his adoption, will chartered the steamer "state of nebraska," and on march 31, 1886 a living freight from the picturesque new world began its voyage to the old. at gravesend, england, the first sight to meet the eyes of the watchers on the steamer was a tug flying american colors. three ringing cheers saluted the beautiful emblem, and the band on the tug responded with "the star-spangled banner." not to be outdone, the cowboy band on the "state of nebraska" struck up "yankee doodle." the tug had been chartered by a company of englishmen for the purpose of welcoming the novel american combination to british soil. when the landing was made, the members of the wild west company entered special coaches and were whirled toward london. then even the stolidity of the indians was not proof against sights so little resembling those to which they had been accustomed, and they showed their pleasure and appreciation by frequent repetition of the red man's characteristic grunt. major john m. burke had made the needed arrangements for housing the big show, and preparations on a gigantic scale were rapidly pushed to please an impatient london public. more effort was made to produce spectacular effects in the london amphitheater than is possible where a merely temporary staging is erected for one day's exhibition. the arena was a third of a mile in circumference, and provided accommodation for forty thousand spectators. here, as at manchester, where another great amphitheater was erected in the fall, to serve as winter quarters, the artist's brush was called on to furnish illusions. the english exhibited an eager interest in every feature of the exhibition--the indian war-dances, the bucking broncho, speedily subjected by the valorous cowboy, and the stagecoach attacked by indians and rescued by united states troops. the indian village on the plains was also an object of dramatic interest to the english public. the artist had counterfeited the plains successfully. it is the hour of dawn. scattered about the plains are various wild animals. within their tents the indians are sleeping. sunrise, and a friendly indian tribe comes to visit the wakening warriors. a friendly dance is executed, at the close of which a courier rushes in to announce the approach of a hostile tribe. these follow almost at the courier's heels, and a sham battle occurs, which affords a good idea of the barbarity of indian warfare. the victors celebrate their triumph with a wild war-dance. a puritan scene follows. the landing of the pilgrims is shown, and the rescue of john smith by pocahontas. this affords opportunity for delineating many interesting indian customs on festive celebrations, such as weddings and feast-days. again the prairie. a buffalo-lick is shown. the shaggy monsters come down to drink, and in pursuit of them is "buffalo bill," mounted on his good horse "charlie." he has been acting as guide for an emigrant party, which soon appears. camp-fires are lighted, supper is eaten, and the camp sinks into slumber with the dwindling of the fires. then comes a fine bit of stage illusion. a red glow is seen in the distance, faint at first, but slowly deepening and broadening. it creeps along the whole horizon, and the camp is awakened by the alarming intelligence that the prairie is on fire. the emigrants rush out, and heroically seek to fight back the rushing, roaring flames. wild animals, driven by the flames, dash through the camp, and a stampede follows. this scene was extremely realistic. a cyclone was also simulated, and a whole village blown out of existence. the "wild west" was received with enthusiasm, not only by the general public, but by royalty. gladstone made a call upon will, in company with the marquis of lorne, and in return a lunch was tendered to the "grand old man" by the american visitors. in an after-dinner speech, the english statesman spoke in the warmest terms of america. he thanked will for the good he was doing in presenting to the english public a picture of the wild life of the western continent, which served to illustrate the difficulties encountered by a sister nation in its onward march of civilization. the initial performance was before a royal party comprising the prince and princess of wales and suite. at the close of the exhibition the royal guests, at their own request, were presented to the members of the company. unprepared for this contingency, will had forgotten to coach the performers in the correct method of saluting royalty, and when the girl shots of the company were presented to the princess of wales, they stepped forward in true democratic fashion and cordially offered their hands to the lovely woman who had honored them. according to english usage, the princess extends the hand, palm down, to favored guests, and these reverently touch the finger-tips and lift the hand to their lips. perhaps the spontaneity of the american girls' welcome was esteemed a pleasing variety to the established custom. at all events, her highness, true to her breeding, appeared not to notice any breach of etiquette, but took the proffered hands and shook them cordially. the indian camp was also visited, and red shirt, the great chief, was, like every one else, delighted with the princess. through an interpreter the prince expressed his pleasure over the performance of the braves, headed by their great chief, and the princess bade him welcome to england. red shirt had the indian gift of oratory, and he replied, in the unimpassioned speech for which the race is noted, that it made his heart glad to hear such kind words from the great white chief and his beautiful squaw. during the round the prince stopped in at will's private quarters, and took much interest in his souvenirs, being especially pleased with a magnificent gold-hilted sword, presented to will by officers of the united states army in recognition of his services as scout. this was not the only time the exhibition was honored by the visit of royalty. that the prince of wales was sincere in his expression of enjoyment of the exhibition was evidenced by the report that he carried to his mother, and shortly afterward a command came from queen victoria that the big show appear before her. it was plainly impossible to take the "wild west" to court; the next best thing was to construct a special box for the use of her majesty. this box was placed upon a dais covered with crimson velvet trimmings, and was superbly decorated. when the queen arrived and was driven around to the royal box, will stepped forward as she dismounted, and doffing his sombrero, made a low courtesy to the sovereign lady of great britain. "welcome, your majesty," said he, "to the wild west of america!" one of the first acts in the performance is to carry the flag to the front. this is done by a soldier, and is introduced to the spectators as an emblem of a nation desirous of peace and friendship with all the world. on this occasion it was borne directly before the queen's box, and dipped three times in honor of her majesty. the action of the queen surprised the company and the vast throng of spectators. rising, she saluted the american flag with a bow, and her suite followed her example, the gentlemen removing their hats. will acknowledged the courtesy by waving his sombrero about his head, and his delighted company with one accord gave three ringing cheers that made the arena echo, assuring the spectators of the healthy condition of the lungs of the american visitors. the queen's complaisance put the entire company on their mettle, and the performance was given magnificently. at the close queen victoria asked to have will presented to her, and paid him so many compliments as almost to bring a blush to his bronzed cheek. red shirt was also presented, and informed her majesty that he had come across the great water solely to see her, and his heart was glad. this polite speech discovered a streak in indian nature that, properly cultivated, would fit the red man to shine as a courtier or politician. red shirt walked away with the insouciance of a king dismissing an audience, and some of the squaws came to display papooses to the great white lady. these children of nature were not the least awed by the honor done them. they blinked at her majesty as if the presence of queens was an incident of their everyday existence. a second command from the queen resulted in another exhibition before a number of her royal guests. the kings of saxony, denmark, and greece, the queen of the belgians, and the crown prince of austria, with others of lesser rank, illumined this occasion. the deadwood coach was peculiarly honored. this is a coach with a history. it was built in concord, new hampshire, and sent to the pacific coast to run over a trail infested by road agents. a number of times was it held up and the passengers robbed, and finally both driver and passengers were killed and the coach abandoned on the trail, as no one could be found who would undertake to drive it. it remained derelict for a long time, but was at last brought into san francisco by an old stage-driver and placed on the overland trail. it gradually worked its way eastward to the deadwood route, and on this line figured in a number of encounters with indians. again were driver and passengers massacred, and again was the coach abandoned. will ran across it on one of his scouting expeditions, and recognizing its value as an adjunct to his exhibition, purchased it. thereafter the tragedies it figured in were of the mock variety. one of the incidents of the wild west, as all remember, is an indian attack on the deadwood coach. the royal visitors wished to put themselves in the place of the traveling public in the western regions of america; so the four potentates of denmark, saxony, greece, and austria became the passengers, and the prince of wales sat on the box with will. the indians had been secretly instructed to "whoop 'em up" on this interesting occasion, and they followed energetically the letter of their instructions. the coach was surrounded by a demoniac band, and the blank cartridges were discharged in such close proximity to the coach windows that the passengers could easily imagine themselves to be actual western travelers. rumor hath it that they sought refuge under the seats, and probably no one would blame them if they did; but it is only rumor, and not history. when the wild ride was over, the prince of wales, who admires the american national game of poker, turned to the driver with the remark: "colonel, did you ever hold four kings like that before?" "i have held four kings more than once," was the prompt reply; "but, your highness, i never held four kings and the royal joker before." the prince laughed heartily; but will's sympathy went out to him when he found that he was obliged to explain his joke in four different languages to the passengers. in recognition of this performance, the prince of wales sent will a handsome souvenir. it consisted of his feathered crest, outlined in diamonds, and bearing the motto "_ich dien_," worked in jewels underneath. an accompanying note expressed the pleasure of the royal visitors over the novel exhibition. upon another occasion the princess of wales visited the show incognito, first advising will of her intention; and at the close of the performance assured him that she had spent a delightful evening. the set performances of the "wild west" were punctuated by social entertainments. james g. blaine, chauncey m. depew, murat halstead, and other prominent americans were in london at the time, and in their honor will issued invitations to a rib-roast breakfast prepared in indian style. fully one hundred guests gathered in the "wild west's" dining-tent at nine o'clock of june 10, 1887. besides the novel decorations of the tent, it was interesting to watch the indian cooks putting the finishing touches to their roasts. a hole had been dug in the ground, a large tripod erected over it, and upon this the ribs of beef were suspended. the fire was of logs, burned down to a bed of glowing coals, and over these the meat was turned around and around until it was cooked to a nicety. this method of open-air cooking over wood imparts to the meat a flavor that can be given to it in no other way. the breakfast was unconventional. part of the bill of fare was hominy, "wild west" pudding, popcorn, and peanuts. the indians squatted on the straw at the end of the dining-tables, and ate from their fingers or speared the meat with long white sticks. the striking contrast of table manners was an interesting object-lesson in the progress of civilization. the breakfast was a novelty to the americans who partook of it, and they enjoyed it thoroughly. will was made a social lion during his stay in london, being dined and feted upon various occasions. only a man of the most rugged health could have endured the strain of his daily performances united with his social obligations. the london season was triumphantly closed with a meeting for the establishing of a court of arbitration to settle disputes between america and england. after leaving the english metropolis the exhibition visited birmingham, and thence proceeded to its winter headquarters in manchester. arta, will's elder daughter, accompanied him to england, and made a continental tour during the winter. the sojourn in manchester was another ovation. the prominent men of the city proposed to present to will a fine rifle, and when the news of the plan was carried to london, a company of noblemen, statesmen, and journalists ran down to manchester by special car. in acknowledgment of the honor done him, will issued invitations for another of his unique american entertainments. boston pork and beans, maryland fried chicken, hominy, and popcorn were served, and there were other distinctly american dishes. an indian rib-roast was served on tin plates, and the distinguished guests enjoyed--or said they did--the novelty of eating it from their fingers, in true aboriginal fashion. this remarkable meal evoked the heartiest of toasts to the american flag, and a poem, a parody on "hiawatha," added luster to the occasion. the prince of wales was grand master of the free masons of england, which order presented a gold watch to will during his stay in manchester. the last performance in this city was given on may 1, 1887, and as a good by to will the spectators united in a rousing chorus of "for he's a jolly good fellow!" the closing exhibition of the english season occurred at hull, and immediately afterward the company sailed for home on the "persian monarch." an immense crowd gathered on the quay, and shouted a cordial "bon voyage." one sad event occurred on the homeward voyage, the death of "old charlie," will's gallant and faithful horse. he was a half-blood kentucky horse, and had been will's constant and unfailing companion for many years on the plains and in the "wild west." he was an animal of almost human intelligence, extraordinary speed, endurance, and fidelity. when he was quite young will rode him on a hunt for wild horses, which he ran down after a chase of fifteen miles. at another time, on a wager of five hundred dollars that he could ride him over the prairie one hundred miles in ten hours, he went the distance in nine hours and forty-five minutes. when the "wild west" was opened at omaha, charlie was the star horse, and held that position at all the exhibitions in this country and in europe. in london the horse attracted a full share of attention, and many scions of royalty solicited the favor of riding him. grand duke michael of russia rode charlie several times in chase of the herd of buffaloes in the "wild west," and became quite attached to him. on the morning of the 14th will made his usual visit to charlie, between decks. shortly after the groom reported him sick. he grew rapidly worse, in spite of all the care he received, and at two o'clock on the morning of the 17th he died. his death cast an air of sadness over the whole ship, and no human being could have had more sincere mourners than the faithful and sagacious old horse. he was brought on deck wrapped in canvas and covered with the american flag. when the hour for the ocean burial arrived, the members of the company and others assembled on deck. standing alone with uncovered head beside the dead was the one whose life the noble animal had shared so long. at length, with choking utterance, will spoke, and charlie for the first time failed to hear the familiar voice he had always been so prompt to obey: "old fellow, your journeys are over. here in the ocean you must rest. would that i could take you back and lay you down beneath the billows of that prairie you and i have loved so well and roamed so freely; but it cannot be. how often at break of day, the glorious sun rising on the horizon has found us far from human habitation! yet, obedient to my call, gladly you bore your burden on, little heeding what the day might bring, so that you and i but shared its sorrows and pleasures alike. you have never failed me. ah, charlie, old fellow, i have had many friends, but few of whom i could say that. rest entombed in the deep bosom of the ocean! i'll never forget you. i loved you as you loved me, my dear old charlie. men tell me you have no soul; but if there be a heaven, and scouts can enter there, i'll wait at the gate for you, old friend." on this homeward trip will made the acquaintance of a clergyman returning from a vacation spent in europe. when they neared the american coast this gentleman prepared a telegram to send to his congregation. it read simply: "2 john i. 12." chancing to see it, will's interest was aroused, and he asked the clergyman to explain the significance of the reference, and when this was done he said: "i have a religious sister at home who knows the bible so well that i will wire her that message and she will not need to look up the meaning." he duplicated to me, as his return greeting, the minister's telegram to his congregation, but i did not justify his high opinion of my biblical knowledge. i was obliged to search the scriptures to unravel the enigma. as there may be others like me, but who have not the incentive i had to look up the reference, i quote from god's word the message i received: "having many things to write unto you, i would not write with paper and ink; but i trust to come unto you, and speak face to face, that our joy may be full." chapter xxvii. -return of the "wild west" to america. when the "wild west" returned to america from its first venture across seas, the sail up the harbor was described by the new york _world_ in the following words: "the harbor probably has never witnessed a more picturesque scene than that of yesterday, when the 'persian monarch' steamed up from quarantine. buffalo bill stood on the captain's bridge, his tall and striking figure clearly outlined, and his long hair waving in the wind; the gayly painted and blanketed indians leaned over the ship's rail; the flags of all nations fluttered from the masts and connecting cables. the cowboy band played 'yankee doodle' with a vim and enthusiasm which faintly indicated the joy felt by everybody connected with the 'wild west' over the sight of home." will had been cordially welcomed by our english cousins, and had been the recipient of many social favors, but no amount of foreign flattery could change him one hair from an "american of the americans," and he experienced a thrill of delight as he again stepped foot upon his native land. shortly afterward he was much pleased by a letter from william t. sherman--so greatly prized that it was framed, and now hangs on the wall of his nebraska home. following is a copy: "fifth avenue hotel, new york. "colonel wm. f. cody: "_dear sir_: in common with all your countrymen, i want to let you know that i am not only gratified but proud of your management and success. so far as i can make out, you have been modest, graceful, and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the history of civilization on this continent during the past century. i am especially pleased with the compliment paid you by the prince of wales, who rode with you in the deadwood coach while it was attacked by indians and rescued by cowboys. such things did occur in our days, but they never will again. "as nearly as i can estimate, there were in 1865 about nine and one-half million of buffaloes on the plains between the missouri river and the rocky mountains; all are now gone, killed for their meat, their skins, and their bones. this seems like desecration, cruelty, and murder, yet they have been replaced by twice as many cattle. at that date there were about 165,000 pawnees, sioux, cheyennes, and arapahoes, who depended upon these buffaloes for their yearly food. they, too, have gone, but they have been replaced by twice or thrice as many white men and women, who have made the earth to blossom as the rose, and who can be counted, taxed, and governed by the laws of nature and civilization. this change has been salutary, and will go on to the end. you have caught one epoch of this country's history, and have illustrated it in the very heart of the modern world--london, and i want you to feel that on this side of the water we appreciate it. "this drama must end; days, years, and centuries follow fast; even the drama of civilization must have an end. all i aim to accomplish on this sheet of paper is to assure you that i fully recognize your work. the presence of the queen, the beautiful princess of wales, the prince, and the british public are marks of favor which reflect back on america sparks of light which illuminate many a house and cabin in the land where once you guided me honestly and faithfully, in 1865-66, from fort riley to kearny, in kansas and nebraska. "sincerely your friend, "w. t. sherman." having demonstrated to his satisfaction that the largest measure of success lay in a stationary exhibition of his show, where the population was large enough to warrant it, will purchased a tract of land on staten island, and here he landed on his return from england. teamsters for miles around had been engaged to transport the outfit across the island to erastina, the site chosen for the exhibition. and you may be certain that cut meat, american bear, flat iron, and the other indians furnished unlimited joy to the ubiquitous small boy, who was present by the hundreds to watch the unloading scenes. the summer season at this point was a great success. one incident connected with it may be worth the relating. teachers everywhere have recognized the value of the "wild west" exhibition as an educator, and in a number of instances public schools have been dismissed to afford the children an opportunity of attending the entertainment. it has not, however, been generally recognized as a spur to religious progress, yet, while at staten island, will was invited to exhibit a band of his indians at a missionary meeting given under the auspices of a large mission sunday-school. he appeared with his warriors, who were expected to give one of their religious dances as an object-lesson in devotional ceremonials. the meeting was largely attended, and every one, children especially, waited for the exercises in excited curiosity and interest. will sat on the platform with the superintendent, pastor, and others in authority, and close by sat the band of stolid-faced indians. the service began with a hymn and the reading of the scriptures; then, to will's horror, the superintendent requested him to lead the meeting in prayer. perhaps the good man fancied that will for a score of years had fought indians with a rifle in one hand and a prayer-book in the other, and was as prepared to pray as to shoot. at least he surely did not make his request with the thought of embarrassing will, though that was the natural result. however, will held holy things in deepest reverence; he had the spirit of gospel if not the letter; so, rising, he quietly and simply, with bowed head, repeated the lord's prayer. a winter exhibition under roof was given in new york, after which the show made a tour of the principal cities of the united states. thus passed several years, and then arrangements were made for a grand continental trip. a plan had been maturing in will's mind ever since the british season, and in the spring of 1889 it was carried into effect. the steamer "persian monarch" was again chartered, and this time its prow was turned toward the shores of france. paris was the destination, and seven months were passed in the gay capital. the parisians received the show with as much enthusiasm as did the londoners, and in paris as well as in the english metropolis everything american became a fad during the stay of the "wild west." even american books were read--a crucial test of faddism; and american curios were displayed in all the shops. relics from american plain and mountain--buffalo-robes, bearskins, buckskin suits embroidered with porcupine quills, indian blankets, woven mats, bows and arrows, bead-mats, mexican bridles and saddles--sold like the proverbial hot cakes. in paris, also, will became a social favorite, and had he accepted a tenth of the invitations to receptions, dinners, and balls showered upon him, he would have been obliged to close his show. while in this city will accepted an invitation from rosa bonheur to visit her at her superb chateau, and in return for the honor he extended to her the freedom of his stables, which contained magnificent horses used for transportation purposes, and which never appeared in the public performance--percherons, of the breed depicted by the famous artist in her well-known painting of "the horse fair." day upon day she visited the camp and made studies, and as a token of her appreciation of the courtesy, painted a picture of will mounted on his favorite horse, both horse and rider bedecked with frontier paraphernalia. this souvenir, which holds the place of honor in his collection, he immediately shipped home. the wife of a london embassy attache relates the following story: "during the time that colonel cody was making his triumphant tour of europe, i was one night seated at a banquet next to the belgian consul. early in the course of the conversation he asked: "'madame, you haf undoubted been to see ze gr-rand bouf-falo beel?' "puzzled by the apparently unfamiliar name, i asked: "'pardon me, but whom did you say?' "'vy, bouf-falo beel, ze famous bouf-falo beel, zat gr-reat countryman of yours. you must know him.' "after a moment's thought, i recognized the well-known showman's name in its disguise. i comprehended that the good belgian thought his to be one of america's most eminent names, to be mentioned in the same breath with washington and lincoln." after leaving paris, a short tour of southern france was made, and at marseilles a vessel was chartered to transport the company to spain. the spanish grandees eschewed their favorite amusement--the bull-fight--long enough to give a hearty welcome to the "wild west." next followed a tour of italy; and the visit to rome was the most interesting of the experiences in this country. the americans reached the eternal city at the time of pope leo's anniversary celebration, and, on the pope's invitation, will visited the vatican. its historic walls have rarely, if ever, looked upon a more curious sight than was presented when will walked in, followed by the cowboys in their buckskins and sombreros and the indians in war paint and feathers. around them crowded a motley throng of italians, clad in the brilliant colors so loved by these children of the south, and nearly every nationality was represented in the assemblage. some of the cowboys and indians had been reared in the catholic faith, and when the pope appeared they knelt for his blessing. he seemed touched by this action on the part of those whom he might be disposed to regard as savages, and bending forward, extended his hands and pronounced a benediction; then he passed on, and it was with the greatest difficulty that the indians were restrained from expressing their emotions in a wild whoop. this, no doubt, would have relieved them, but it would, in all probability, have stampeded the crowd. when the pope reached will he looked admiringly upon the frontiersman. the world-known scout bent his head before the aged "medicine man," as the indians call his reverence, the papal blessing was again bestowed, and the procession passed on. the thanksgiving mass, with its fine choral accompaniment, was given, and the vast concourse of people poured out of the building. this visit attracted much attention. "i'll take my stalwart indian braves down to the coliseum and the old romans from their graves will all arise to see 'em. praetors and censors will return and hasten through the forum the ghostly senate will adjourn because it lacks a quorum. "and up the ancient appian way will flock the ghostly legions from gaul unto calabria, and from remoter regions; from british bay and wild lagoon, and libyan desert sandy, they'll all come marching to the tune of 'yankee doodle dandy.' "prepare triumphal cars for me, and purple thrones to sit on, for i've done more than julius c.- he could not down the briton! caesar and cicero shall bow and ancient warriors famous, before the myrtle-wreathed brow of buffalo williamus. "we march, unwhipped, through history- no bulwark can detain us- and link the age of grover c. and scipio africanus. i'll take my stalwart indian braves down to the coliseum, and the old romans from their graves will all arise to see 'em." it may be mentioned in passing that will had visited the coliseum with an eye to securing it as an amphitheater for the "wild west" exhibition, but the historic ruin was too dilapidated to be a safe arena for such a purpose, and the idea was abandoned. the sojourn in rome was enlivened by an incident that created much interest among the natives. the italians were somewhat skeptical as to the abilities of the cowboys to tame wild horses, believing the bronchos in the show were specially trained for their work, and that the horse-breaking was a mock exhibition. the prince of sermonetta declared that he had some wild horses in his stud which no cowboys in the world could ride. the challenge was promptly taken up by the daring riders of the plains, and the prince sent for his wild steeds. that they might not run amuck and injure the spectators, specially prepared booths of great strength were erected. the greatest interest and enthusiasm were manifested by the populace, and the death of two or three members of the company was as confidently looked for as was the demise of sundry gladiators in the "brave days of old." but the cowboys laughed at so great a fuss over so small a matter, and when the horses were driven into the arena, and the spectators held their breath, the cowboys, lassos in hand, awaited the work with the utmost nonchalance. the wild equines sprang into the air, darted hither and thither, and fought hard against their certain fate, but in less time than would be required to give the details, the cowboys had flung their lassos, caught the horses, and saddled and mounted them. the spirited beasts still resisted, and sought in every way to throw their riders, but the experienced plainsmen had them under control in a very short time; and as they rode them around the arena, the spectators rose and howled with delight. the display of horsemanship effectually silenced the skeptics; it captured the roman heart, and the remainder of the stay in the city was attended by unusual enthusiasm. beautiful florence, practical bologna, and stately milan, with its many-spired cathedral, were next on the list for the triumphal march. for the venetian public the exhibition had to be given at verona, in the historic amphitheater built by diocletian, a. d. '90. this is the largest building in the world, and within the walls of this representative of old world civilization the difficulties over which new world civilization had triumphed were portrayed. here met the old and new; hoary antiquity and bounding youth kissed each other under the sunny italian skies. the "wild west" now moved northward, through the tyrol, to munich, and from here the americans digressed for an excursion on the "beautiful blue danube." then followed a successful tour of germany. during this continental circuit will's elder daughter, arta, who had accompanied him on his british expedition, was married. it was impossible for the father to be present, but by cablegram he sent his congratulations and check. chapter xxviii. -a tribute to general miles. in view of the success achieved by my brother, it is remarkable that he excited so little envy. now for the first time in his life he felt the breath of slander on his cheek, and it flushed hotly. from an idle remark that the indians in the "wild west" exhibition were not properly treated, the idle gossip grew to the proportion of malicious and insistent slander. the indians being government wards, such a charge might easily become a serious matter; for, like the man who beat his wife, the government believes it has the right to maltreat the red man to the top of its bent, but that no one else shall be allowed to do so. a winter campaign of the "wild west" had been contemplated, but the project was abandoned and winter quarters decided on. in the quaint little village of benfield was an ancient nunnery and a castle, with good stables. here will left the company in charge of his partner, mr. nate salisbury, and, accompanied by the indians for whose welfare he was responsible, set sail for america, to silence his calumniators. the testimony of the red men themselves was all that was required to refute the notorious untruths. few had placed any belief in the reports, and friendly commenters were also active. as the sequel proved, will came home very opportunely. the sioux in dakota were again on the war-path, and his help was needed to subdue the uprising. he disbanded the warriors he had brought back from europe, and each returned to his own tribe and people, to narrate around the camp-fire the wonders of the life abroad, while will reported at headquarters to offer his services for the war. two years previously he had been honored by the commission of brigadier-general of the nebraska national guard, which rank and title were given to him by governor thayer. the officer in command of the indian campaign was general nelson a. miles, who has rendered so many important services to his country, and who, as commander-in-chief of our army, played so large a part in the recent war with spain. at the time of the indian uprising he held the rank of brigadier-general. this brilliant and able officer was much pleased when he learned that he would have will's assistance in conducting the campaign, for he knew the value of his good judgment, cool head, and executive ability, and of his large experience in dealing with indians. the "wild west," which had served as an educator to the people of europe in presenting the frontier life of america, had quietly worked as important educational influences in the minds of the indians connected with the exhibition. they had seen for themselves the wonders of the world's civilization; they realized how futile were the efforts of the children of the plains to stem the resistless tide of progress flowing westward. potentates had delighted to do honor to pa-has-ka, the long-haired chief, and in the eyes of the simple savage he was as powerful as any of the great ones of earth. to him his word was law; it seemed worse than folly for their brethren to attempt to cope with so mighty a chief, therefore their influence was all for peace; and the fact that so many tribes did not join in the uprising may be attributed, in part, to their good counsel and advice. general miles was both able and energetic, and managed the campaign in masterly fashion. there were one or two hard-fought battles, in one of which the great sioux warrior, sitting bull, the ablest that nation ever produced, was slain. this indian had traveled with will for a time, but could not be weaned from his loyalty to his own tribe and a desire to avenge upon the white man the wrongs inflicted on his people. what promised at the outset to be a long and cruel frontier war was speedily quelled. the death of sitting bull had something to do with the termination of hostilities. arrangements for peace were soon perfected, and will attributed the government's success to the energy of its officer in command, for whom he has a most enthusiastic admiration. he paid this tribute to him recently: "i have been in many campaigns with general miles, and a better general and more gifted warrior i have never seen. i served in the civil war, and in any number of indian wars; i have been under at least a dozen generals, with whom i have been thrown in close contact because of the nature of the services which i was called upon to render. general miles is the superior of them all. "i have known phil sheridan, tecumseh sherman, hancock, and all of our noted indian fighters. for cool judgment and thorough knowledge of all that pertains to military affairs, none of them, in my opinion, can be said to excel general nelson a. miles. "ah, what a man he is! i know. we have been shoulder to shoulder in many a hard march. we have been together when men find out what their comrades really are. he is a man, every inch of him, and the best general i ever served under." after miles was put in command of the forces, a dinner was given in his honor by john chamberlin. will was a guest and one of the speakers, and took the opportunity to eulogize his old friend. he dwelt at length on the respect in which the red men held the general, and in closing said: "no foreign invader will ever set foot on these shores as long as general miles is at the head of the army. if they should--just call on me!" the speaker sat down amid laughter and applause. while will was away at the seat of war, his beautiful home in north platte, "welcome wigwam," burned to the ground. the little city is not equipped with much of a fire department, but a volunteer brigade held the flames in check long enough to save almost the entire contents of the house, among which were many valuable and costly souvenirs that could never be replaced. will received a telegram announcing that his house was ablaze, and his reply was characteristic: "save rosa bonheur's picture, and the house may go to blazes." when the frontier war was ended and the troops disbanded, will made application for another company of indians to take back to europe with him. permission was obtained from the government, and the contingent from the friendly tribes was headed by chiefs named long wolf, no neck, yankton charlie, and black heart. in addition to these a company was recruited from among the indians held as hostages by general miles at fort sheridan, and the leaders of these hostile braves were such noted chiefs as short bull, kicking bear, lone bull, scatter, and revenge. to these the trip to alsace-lorraine was a revelation, a fairy-tale more wonderful than anything in their legendary lore. the ocean voyage, with its seasickness, put them in an ugly mood, but the sight of the encampment and the cowboys dissipated their sullenness, and they shortly felt at home. the hospitality extended to all the members of the company by the inhabitants of the village in which they wintered was most cordial, and left them the pleasantest of memories. an extended tour of europe was fittingly closed by a brief visit to england. the britons gave the "wild west" as hearty a welcome as if it were native to their heath. a number of the larger cities were visited, london being reserved for the last. royalty again honored the "wild west" by its attendance, the queen requesting a special performance on the grounds of windsor castle. the requests of the queen are equivalent to commands, and the entertainment was duly given. as a token of her appreciation the queen bestowed upon will a costly and beautiful souvenir. not the least-esteemed remembrance of this london visit was an illuminated address presented by the english workingman's convention. in it the american plainsman was congratulated upon the honors he had won, the success he had achieved, and the educational worth of his great exhibition. a banquet followed, at which will presented an autograph photograph to each member of the association. notwithstanding tender thoughts of home, english soil was left regretfully. to the "wild west" the complacent briton had extended a cordial welcome, and manifested an enthusiasm that contrasted strangely with his usual disdain for things american. a singular coincidence of the homeward voyage was the death of billy, another favorite horse of will's. chapter xxix. -the "wild west" at the world's fair. european army officers of all nationalities regarded my brother with admiring interest. to german, french, italian, or british eyes he was a commanding personality, and also the representative of a peculiar and interesting phase of new world life. recalling their interest in his scenes from his native land, so unlike anything to be found in europe to-day, will invited a number of these officers to accompany him on an extended hunting-trip through western america. all that could possibly do so accepted the invitation. a date was set for them to reach chicago, and from there arrangements were made for a special train to convey them to nebraska. when the party gathered, several prominent americans were of the number. by general miles's order a military escort attended them from chicago, and the native soldiery remained with them until north platte was reached. then the party proceeded to "scout's rest ranch," where they were hospitably entertained for a couple of days before starting out on their long trail. at denver ammunition and supplies were taken on board the train. a french chef was also engaged, as will feared his distinguished guests might not enjoy camp-fare. but a hen in water is no more out of place than a french cook on a "roughing-it" trip. frontier cooks, who understand primitive methods, make no attempt at a fashionable cuisine, and the appetites developed by open-air life are equal to the rudest, most substantial fare. colorado springs, the garden of the gods, and other places in colorado were visited. the foreign visitors had heard stories of this wonderland of america, but, like all of nature's masterpieces, the rugged beauties of this magnificent region defy an adequate description. only one who has seen a sunrise on the alps can appreciate it. the storied rhine is naught but a story to him who has never looked upon it. niagara is only a waterfall until seen from various view-points, and its tremendous force and transcendent beauty are strikingly revealed. the same is true of the glorious wildness of our western scenery; it must be seen to be appreciated. the most beautiful thing about the garden of the gods is the entrance known as the gateway. color here runs riot. the mass of rock in the foreground is white, and stands out in sharp contrast to the rich red of the sandstone of the portals, which rise on either side to a height of three hundred feet. through these giant portals, which in the sunlight glow with ruddy fire, is seen mass upon mass of gorgeous color, rendered more striking by the dazzling whiteness of pike's peak, which soars upward in the distance, a hoary sentinel of the skies. the whole picture is limned against the brilliant blue of the colorado sky, and stands out sharp and clear, one vivid block of color distinctly defined against the other. the name "garden of the gods" was doubtless applied because of the peculiar shape of the spires, needles, and basilicas of rock that rise in every direction. these have been corroded by storms and worn smooth by time, until they present the appearance of half-baked images of clay molded by human hands, instead of sandstone rocks fashioned by wind and weather. each grotesque and fantastic shape has received a name. one is here introduced to the "washerwoman," the "lady of the garden," the "siamese twins," and the "ute god," and besides these may be seen the "wreck," the "baggage room," the "eagle," and the "mushroom." the predominating tone is everywhere red, but black, brown, drab, white, yellow, buff, and pink rocks add their quota to make up a harmonious and striking color scheme, to which the gray and green of clinging mosses add a final touch of picturesqueness. at flagstaff, arizona, the train was discarded for the saddle and the buckboard. and now will felt himself quite in his element; it was a never-failing pleasure to him to guide a large party of guests over plain and mountain. from long experience he knew how to make ample provision for their comfort. there were a number of wagons filled with supplies, three buckboards, three ambulances, and a drove of ponies. those who wished to ride horseback could do so; if they grew tired of a bucking broncho, opportunity for rest awaited them in ambulance or buckboard. the french chef found his occupation gone when it was a question of cooking over a camp-fire; so he spent his time picking himself up when dislodged by his broncho. the daintiness of his menu was not a correct gauge for the daintiness of his language on these numerous occasions. through the grand canon of the colorado will led the party, and the dwellers of the old world beheld some of the rugged magnificence of the new. across rushing rivers, through quiet valleys, and over lofty mountains they proceeded, pausing on the borders of peaceful lakes, or looking over dizzy precipices into yawning chasms. there was no lack of game to furnish variety to their table; mountain sheep, mountain lions, wildcats, deer, elk, antelope, and even coyotes and porcupines, were shot, while the rivers furnished an abundance of fish. it seemed likely at one time that there might be a hunt of bigger game than any here mentioned, for in crossing the country of the navajos the party was watched and followed by mounted indians. an attack was feared, and had the red men opened fire, there would have been a very animated defense; but the suspicious indians were merely on the alert to see that no trespass was committed, and when the orderly company passed out of their territory the warriors disappeared. the visitors were much impressed with the vastness and the undeveloped resources of our country. they were also impressed with the climate, as the thermometer went down to forty degrees below zero while they were on buckskin mountain. nature seemed to wish to aid will in the effort to exhibit novelties to his foreign guests, for she tried her hand at some spectacular effects, and succeeded beyond mortal expectation. she treated them to a few blizzards; and shut in by the mass of whirling, blinding snowflakes, it is possible their thoughts reverted with a homesick longing to the sunny slopes of france, the placid vales of germany, or the foggy mildness of great britain. on the summit of san francisco mountain, the horse of major st. john mildmay lost its footing, and began to slip on the ice toward a precipice which looked down a couple of thousand feet. will saw the danger, brought out his ever-ready lasso, and dexterously caught the animal in time to save it and its rider--a feat considered remarkable by the onlookers. accidents happened occasionally, many adventures were met with, indian alarms were given, and narrow were some of the escapes. on the whole, it was a remarkable trail, and was written about under the heading, "a thousand miles in the saddle with buffalo bill." at salt lake city the party broke up, each going his separate way. all expressed great pleasure in the trip, and united in the opinion that buffalo bill's reputation as guide and scout was a well-deserved one. will's knowledge of indian nature stands him in good stead when he desires to select the quota of indians for the summer season of the "wild west." he sends word ahead to the tribe or reservation which he intends to visit. the red men have all heard of the wonders of the great show; they are more than ready to share in the delights of travel, and they gather at the appointed place in great numbers. will stands on a temporary platform in the center of the group. he looks around upon the swarthy faces, glowing with all the eagerness which the stolid indian nature will permit them to display. it is not always the tallest nor the most comely men who are selected. the unerring judgment of the scout, trained in indian warfare, tells him who may be relied upon and who are untrustworthy. a face arrests his attention--with a motion of his hand he indicates the brave whom he has selected; another wave of the hand and the fate of a second warrior is settled. hardly a word is spoken, and it is only a matter of a few moments' time before he is ready to step down from his exalted position and walk off with his full contingent of warriors following happily in his wake. the "wild west" had already engaged space just outside the world's fair grounds for an exhibit in 1893, and will was desirous of introducing some new and striking feature. he had succeeded in presenting to the people of europe some new ideas, and, in return, the european trip had furnished to him the much-desired novelty. he had performed the work of an educator in showing to old world residents the conditions of a new civilization, and the idea was now conceived of showing to the world gathered at the arena in chicago a representation of the cosmopolitan military force. he called it "a congress of the rough riders of the world." it is a combination at once ethnological and military. to the indians and cowboys were added mexicans, cossacks, and south americans, with regular trained cavalry from germany, france, england, and the united states. this aggregation showed for the first time in 1893, and was an instantaneous success. of it opie read gives a fine description: "morse made the two worlds touch the tips of their fingers together. cody has made the warriors of all nations join hands. "in one act we see the indian, with his origin shrouded in history's mysterious fog; the cowboy--nerve-strung product of the new world; the american soldier, the dark mexican, the glittering soldier of germany, the dashing cavalryman of france, the impulsive irish dragoon, and that strange, swift spirit from the plains of russia, the cossack. "marvelous theatric display, a drama with scarcely a word--europe, asia, africa, america in panoramic whirl, and yet as individualized as if they had never left their own country." in 1893 the horizon of my brother's interests enlarged. in july of that year i was married to mr. hugh a. wetmore, editor of the duluth _press_. my steps now turned to the north, and the enterprising young city on the shore of lake superior became my home. during the long years of my widowhood my brother always bore toward me the attitude of guardian and protector; i could rely upon his support in any venture i deemed a promising one, and his considerate thoughtfulness did not fail when i remarried. he wished to see me well established in my new home; he desired to insure my happiness and prosperity, and with this end in view he purchased the duluth _press_ plant, erected a fine brick building to serve as headquarters for the newspaper venture, and we became business partners in the untried field of press work. my brother had not yet seen the zenith city. so in january of 1894 he arranged to make a short visit to duluth. we issued invitations for a general reception, and the response was of the genuine western kind--eighteen hundred guests assembling in the new duluth _press_ building to bid welcome and do honor to the world-famed buffalo bill. his name is a household word, and there is a growing demand for anecdotes concerning him. as he does not like to talk about himself, chroniclers have been compelled to interview his associates, or are left to their own resources. like many of the stories told about abraham lincoln, some of the current yarns about buffalo bill are of doubtful authority. nevertheless, a collection of those that are authentic would fill a volume. almost every plainsman or soldier who met my brother during the indian campaigns can tell some interesting tale about him that has never been printed. during the youthful season of redundant hope and happiness many of his ebullitions of wit were lost, but he was always beloved for his good humor, which no amount of carnage could suppress. he was not averse to church-going, though he was liable even in church to be carried away by the rollicking spirit that was in him. instance his visit to the little temple which he had helped to build at north platte. his wife and sister were in the congregation, and this ought not only to have kept him awake, but it should have insured perfect decorum on his part. the opening hymn commenced with the words, "oh, for a thousand tongues to sing," etc. the organist, who played "by ear," started the tune in too high a key to be followed by the choir and congregation, and had to try again. a second attempt ended, like the first, in failure. "oh, for a thousand tongues to sing, my blest--" came the opening words for the third time, followed by a squeak from the organ, and a relapse into painful silence. will could contain himself no longer, and blurted out: "start it at five hundred, and mebbe some of the rest of us can get in." another church episode occurred during the visit of the "wild west" to the atlanta exposition. a locally celebrated colored preacher had announced that he would deliver a sermon on the subject of abraham lincoln. a party of white people, including my brother, was made up, and repaired to the church to listen to the eloquent address. not wishing to make themselves conspicuous, the white visitors took a pew in the extreme rear, but one of the ushers, wishing to honor them, insisted on conducting them to a front seat. when the contribution platter came around, our hero scooped a lot of silver dollars from his pocket and deposited them upon the plate with such force that the receptacle was tilted and its contents poured in a jingling shower upon the floor. the preacher left his pulpit to assist in gathering up the scattered treasure, requesting the congregation to sing a hymn of thanksgiving while the task was being performed. at the conclusion of the hymn the sable divine returned to the pulpit and supplemented his sermon with the following remarks: "brudderen an' sisters: i obsahve dat co'nel and gen'l buflo bill am present. [a roar of 'amens' and 'bless god's' arose from the audience.] you will wifhold yuh amens till i git froo. you all owes yuh freedom to abraham's bosom, but he couldn't hab went an' gone an' done it widout buflo bill, who he'ped him wid de sinnoose ob wah! abraham lincum was de brack man's fren'--buflo bill am de fren' ob us all. ['amen!' screamed a sister.] yes, sistah, he am yo' fren', moreova, an' de fren' ob every daughtah ob jakup likewise. de chu'ch debt am a cross to us, an' to dat cross he bends his back as was prefigu'd in de scriptu's ob ol', de sun may move, aw de sun mought stan' still, but buflo bill nebba stan's still--he's ma'ching froo geo'gia wid his christian cowboys to sto'm de lookout mountain ob zion. deacon green henry turner will lead us in prayah fo' buflo bill." the following is one of will's own stories: during the first years of his career as an actor will had in one of his theatrical companies a westerner named broncho bill. there were indians in the troupe, and a certain missionary had joined the aggregation to look after the morals of the indians. thinking that broncho bill would bear a little looking after also, the good man secured a seat by his side at the dinner-table, and remarked pleasantly: "this is mr. broncho bill, is it not?" "yaas." "where were you born?" "near kit bullard's mill, on big pigeon." "religious parents, i suppose?" "yaas." "what is your denomination?" "my what?" "your denomination?" "o--ah--yaas. smith & wesson." while on his european tour will was entertained by a great many potentates. at a certain dinner given in his honor by a wealthy english lord, will met for the first time socially a number of blustering british officers, fresh from india. one of them addressed himself to the scout as follows: "i understand you are a colonel. you americans are blawsted fond of military titles, don't cherneow. by gad, sir, we'll have to come over and give you fellows a good licking!" "what, again?" said the scout, so meekly that for an instant his assailant did not know how hard he was hit, but he realized it when the retort was wildly applauded by the company. before closing these pages i will give an account of an episode which occurred during the black hills gold excitement, and which illustrates the faculty my hero possesses of adapting himself to all emergencies. mr. mahan, of west superior, wisconsin, and a party of adventurous gold-seekers were being chased by a band of indians, which they had succeeded in temporarily eluding. they met buffalo bill at the head of a squad of soldiers who were looking for redskins. the situation was explained to the scout, whereupon he said: "i am looking for that identical crowd. now, you draw up in line, and i will look you over and pick out the men that i want to go back with me." without any questioning he was able to select the men who really wanted to return and fight the indians. he left but two behind, but they were the ones who would have been of no assistance had they been allowed to go to the front. will rode some distance in advance of his party, and when the indians sighted him, they thought he was alone, and made a dash for him. will whirled about and made his horse go as if fleeing for his life. his men had been carefully ambushed. the indians kept up a constant firing, and when he reached a certain point will pretended to be hit, and fell from his horse. on came the indians, howling like a choir of maniacs. the next moment they were in a trap, and will and his men opened fire on them, literally annihilating the entire squad. it was the indian style of warfare, and the ten "good indians" left upon the field, had they been able to complain, would have had no right to do so. will continued the march, and as the day was well advanced, began looking for a good place to camp. arriving at the top of a ridge overlooking a little river, will saw a spot where he had camped on a previous expedition; but, to his great disappointment, the place was in possession of a large village of hostiles, who were putting up their tepees, building camp fires, and making themselves comfortable for the coming night. quick as a flash will decided what to do. "there are too many of them for us to whip in the tired condition of ourselves and horses," said our hero. then he posted his men along the top of the ridge, with instructions to show themselves at a signal from him, and descended at once, solitary and alone, to the encampment of hostiles. gliding rapidly up to the chief, will addressed him in his own dialect as follows: "i want you to leave here right away, quick! i don't want to kill your women and children. a big lot of soldiers are following me, and they will destroy your whole village if you are here when they come." as he waved his hand in the direction of the hilltop, brass buttons and polished gun-barrels began to glitter in the rays of the setting sun, and the chief ordered his braves to fold their tents and move on. chapter xxx. -cody day at the omaha exposition. since 1893 the "wild west" exhibitions have been restricted to the various cities of our own land. life in "buffalo bill's tented city," as it is called, is like life in a small village. there are some six hundred persons in the various departments. many of the men have their families with them; the indians have their squaws and papooses, and the variety of nationalities, dialects, and costumes makes the miniature city an interesting and entertaining one. the indians may be seen eating bundles of meat from their fingers and drinking tankards of iced buttermilk. the mexicans, a shade more civilized, shovel with their knives great quantities of the same food into the capacious receptacles provided by nature. the americans, despite what is said of their rapid eating, take time to laugh and crack jokes, and finish their repast with a product only known to the highest civilization--ice-cream. when the "wild west" visited boston, one hot june day the parade passed a children's hospital on the way to the show-grounds. many of the little invalids were unable to leave their couches. all who could do so ran to the open windows and gazed eagerly at the passing procession, and the greatest excitement prevailed. these more fortunate little ones described, as best they could, to the little sufferers who could not leave their beds the wonderful things they saw. the indians were the special admiration of the children. after the procession passed, one wee lad, bedridden by spinal trouble, cried bitterly because he had not seen it. a kind-hearted nurse endeavored to soothe the child, but words proved unavailing. then a bright idea struck the patient woman; she told him he might write a letter to the great "buffalo bill" himself and ask him for an indian's picture. the idea was taken up with delight, and the child spent an eager hour in penning the letter. it was pathetic in its simplicity. the little sufferer told the great exhibitor that he was sick in bed, was unable to see the indians when they passed the hospital, and that he longed to see a photograph of one. the important missive was mailed, and even the impatient little invalid knew it was useless to expect an answer that day. the morning had hardly dawned before a child's bright eyes were open. every noise was listened to, and he wondered when the postman would bring him a letter. the nurse hardly dared to hope that a busy man like buffalo bill would take time to respond to the wish of a sick child. "colonel cody is a very busy man," she said. "we must be patient." at perhaps the twentieth repetition of this remark the door opened noiselessly. in came a six-foot indian, clad in leather trousers and wrapped in a scarlet blanket. he wore a head-dress of tall, waving feathers, and carried his bow in his hand. the little invalids gasped in wonder; then they shrieked with delight. one by one, silent and noiseless, but smiling, six splendid warriors followed the first. the visitors had evidently been well trained, and had received explicit directions as to their actions. so unusual a sight in the orderly hospital so startled the nurse that she could not even speak. the warriors drew up in a line and saluted her. the happy children were shouting in such glee that the poor woman's fright was unnoticed. the indians ranged themselves in the narrow space between the cots, laid aside their gay blankets, placed their bows upon the floor, and waving their arms to and fro, executed a quiet war-dance. a sham battle was fought, followed by a song of victory. after this the blankets were again donned, the kindly red men went away, still smiling as benignly as their war paint would allow them to do. a cheer of gratitude and delight followed them down the broad corridors. the happy children talked about buffalo bill and the "wild west" for weeks after this visit. north platte had long urged my brother to bring the exhibition there. the citizens wished to see the mammoth tents spread over the ground where the scout once followed the trail on the actual war-path; they desired that their famous fellow-citizen should thus honor his home town. a performance was finally given there on october 12, 1896, the special car bearing will and his party arriving the preceding day, sunday. the writer of these chronicles joined the party in omaha, and we left that city after the saturday night performance. the union pacific railroad had offered my brother every inducement to make this trip; among other things, the officials promised to make special time in running from omaha to north platte. when we awoke sunday morning, we found that in some way the train had been delayed, that instead of making special time we were several hours late. will telegraphed this fact to the officials. at the next station double-headers were put on, and the gain became at once perceptible. at grand island a congratulatory telegram was sent, noting the gain in time. at the next station we passed the lightning express, the "flyer," to which usually everything gives way, and the good faith of the company was evidenced by the fact that this train was side-tracked to make way for buffalo bill's "wild west" train. another message was sent over the wires to the officials; it read as follows: "have just noticed that lightning express is side-tracked to make way for wild west. i herewith promote you to top seat in heaven." the trip was a continued ovation. every station was thronged, and will was obliged to step out on the platform and make a bow to the assembled crowds, his appearance being invariably greeted with a round of cheers. when we reached the station at north platte, we found that the entire population had turned out to receive their fellow-townsman. the "cody guards," a band to which will presented beautiful uniforms of white broadcloth trimmed with gold braid, struck up the strains of "see, the conquering hero comes." the mayor attempted to do the welcoming honors of the city, but it was impossible for him to make himself heard. cheer followed cheer from the enthusiastic crowd. we had expected to reach the place some hours earlier, but our late arrival encroached upon the hour of church service. the ministers discovered that it was impossible to hold their congregations; so they were dismissed, and the pastors accompanied them to the station, one reverend gentleman humorously remarking: "we shall be obliged to take for our text this morning 'buffalo bill and his wild west,' and will now proceed to the station for the discourse." will's tally-ho coach, drawn by six horses, was in waiting for the incoming party. the members of his family seated themselves in that conveyance, and we passed through the town, preceded and followed by a band. as we arrived at the home residence, both bands united in a welcoming strain of martial music. my oldest sister, julia, whose husband is manager of "scout's rest ranch," when informed that the "wild west" was to visit north platte, conceived the idea of making this visit the occasion of a family reunion. we had never met in an unbroken circle since the days of our first separation, but as a result of her efforts we sat thus that evening in my brother's home. the next day our mother-sister, as she had always been regarded, entertained us at "scout's rest ranch." the "wild west" exhibition had visited duluth for the first time that same year. this city has a population of 65,000. north platte numbers 3,500. when he wrote to me of his intention to take the exhibition to duluth, will offered to make a wager that his own little town would furnish a bigger crowd than would the city of my residence. i could not accept any such inferred slur upon the zenith city, so accepted the wager, a silk hat against a fur cloak. october 12th, the date of the north platte performance, dawned bright and cloudless. "to-day decides our wager," said will. "i expect there will be two or three dozen people out on this prairie. duluth turned out a good many thousands, so i suppose you think your wager as good as won." the manager of the tents evidently thought the outlook a forlorn one. i shared his opinion, and was, in fancy, already the possessor of a fine fur cloak. "colonel, shall we stretch the full canvas?" asked the tentman. "every inch of it," was the prompt response. "we want to show north platte the capacity of the 'wild west,' at any rate." as we started for the grounds will was evidently uncertain over the outcome, in spite of his previous boast of the reception north platte would give him. "we'll have a big tent and plenty of room to spare in it," he observed. but as we drove to the grounds we soon began to see indications of a coming crowd. the people were pouring in from all directions; the very atmosphere seemed populated; as the dust was nearly a foot deep on the roads, the moving populace made the air almost too thick for breathing. it was during the time of the county fair, and managers of the union pacific road announced that excursion trains would be run from every town and hamlet, the officials and their families coming up from omaha on a special car. where the crowds came from it was impossible to say. it looked as if a feat of magic had been performed, and that the stones were turned into men, or, perchance, that, as in olden tales, they came up out of the earth. accustomed though he is to the success of the show, will was dumfounded by this attendance. as the crowds poured in i became alarmed about my wager. i visited the ticket-seller and asked how the matter stood. "it's pretty close," he answered. "duluth seems to be dwindling away before the mightiness of the great american desert." this section of the country, which was a wilderness only a few years ago, assembled over ten thousand people to attend a performance of the "wild west." omaha, where the opening performance of this exhibition was given, honored will last year by setting apart one day as "cody day." august 31st was devoted to his reception, and a large and enthusiastic crowd gathered to do the nebraska pioneer honor. the parade reached the fair-grounds at eleven o'clock, where it was fittingly received by one hundred and fifty mounted indians from the encampment. a large square space had been reserved for the reception of the party in front of the sherman gate. as it filed through, great applause was sent up by the waiting multitude, and the noise became deafening when my brother made his appearance on a magnificent chestnut horse, the gift of general miles. he was accompanied by a large party of officials and nebraska pioneers, who dismounted to seat themselves on the grand-stand. prominent among these were the governor of the state, senator thurston, and will's old friend and first employer, mr. alexander majors. as will ascended the platform he was met by general manager clarkson, who welcomed him in the name of the president of the exposition, whose official duties precluded his presence. governor holcomb was then introduced, and his speech was a brief review of the evolution of nebraska from a wilderness of a generation ago to the great state which produced this marvelous exposition. manager clarkson remarked, as he introduced mr. majors: "here is the father of them all, alexander majors, a man connected with the very earliest history of nebraska, and the business father of colonel cody." this old pioneer was accorded a reception only a shade less enthusiastic than that which greeted the hero of the day. he said: "_gentlemen, and my boy, colonel cody_: [laughter.] can i say a few words of welcome? friend creighton and i came down here together to-day, and he thought i was not equal to the occasion. gentlemen, i do not know whether i am equal to the occasion at this time, but i am going to do the best for you that i can. give me your hand, colonel. gentlemen, forty-three years ago this day, this fine-looking physical specimen of manhood was brought to me by his mother--a little boy nine years old--and little did i think at that time that the boy that was standing before me, asking for employment of some kind by which i could afford to pay his mother a little money for his services, was going to be a boy of such destiny as he has turned out to be. in this country we have great men, we have great men in washington, we have men who are famous as politicians in this country; we have great statesmen, we have had jackson and grant, and we had lincoln; we have men great in agriculture and in stock-growing, and in the manufacturing business men who have made great names for themselves, who have stood high in the nation. next, and even greater, we have a cody. he, gentlemen, stands before you now, known the wide world over as the last of the great scouts. when the boy cody came to me, standing straight as an arrow, and looked me in the face, i said to my partner, mr. russell, who was standing by my side, 'we will take this little boy, and we will pay him a man's wages, because he can ride a pony just as well as a man can.' he was lighter and could do service of that kind when he was nine years old. i remember when we paid him twenty-five dollars for the first month's work. he was paid in half-dollars, and he got fifty of them. he tied them up in his little handkerchief, and when he got home he untied the handkerchief and spread the money all over the table." colonel cody--"i have been spreading it ever since." a few remarks followed indicative of mr. majors's appreciation of the exhibition, and he closed with the remark, "bless your precious heart, colonel cody!" and sat down, amid great applause. senator thurston's remarks were equally happy. he said: "colonel cody, this is your day. this is your exposition. this is your city. and we all rejoice that nebraska is your state. you have carried the fame of our country and of our state all over the civilized world; you have been received and honored by princes, by emperors and by kings; the titled women in the courts of the nations of the world have been captivated by your charm of manner and your splendid manhood. you are known wherever you go, abroad or in the united states, as colonel cody, the best representative of the great and progressive west. you stand here to-day in the midst of a wonderful assembly. here are representatives of the heroic and daring characters of most of the nations of the world. you are entitled to the honor paid you to-day, and especially entitled to it here. this people know you as a man who has carried this demonstration of yours to foreign lands, and exhibited it at home. you have not been a showman in the common sense of the word. you have been a great national and international educator of men. you have furnished a demonstration of the possibilities of our country that has advanced us in the opinion of all the world. but we who have been with you a third, or more than a third, of a century, we remember you more dearly and tenderly than others do. we remember that when this whole western land was a wilderness, when these representatives of the aborigines were attempting to hold their own against the onward tide of civilization, the settler and the hardy pioneer, the women and the children, felt safe whenever cody rode along the frontier; he was their protector and defender. "cody, this is your home. you live in the hearts of the people of our state. god bless you and keep you and prosper you in your splendid work." will was deeply touched by these strong expressions from his friends. as he moved to the front of the platform to respond, his appearance was the signal for a prolonged burst of cheers. he said: "you cannot expect me to make adequate response for the honor which you have bestowed upon me to-day. you have overwhelmed my speaking faculties. i cannot corral enough ideas to attempt a coherent reply in response to the honor which you have accorded me. how little i dreamed in the long ago that the lonely path of the scout and the pony-express rider would lead me to the place you have assigned me to-day. here, near the banks of the mighty missouri, which flows unvexed to the sea, my thoughts revert to the early days of my manhood. i looked eastward across this rushing tide to the atlantic, and dreamed that in that long-settled region all men were rich and all women happy. my friends, that day has come and gone. i stand among you a witness that nowhere in the broad universe are men richer in manly integrity, and women happier in their domestic kingdom, than here in our own nebraska. "i have sought fortune in many lands, but wherever i have wandered, the flag of our beloved state has been unfurled to every breeze: from the platte to the danube, from the tiber to the clyde, the emblem of our sovereign state has always floated over the 'wild west.' time goes on and brings with it new duties and responsibilities, but we 'old men,' we who are called old-timers, cannot forget the trials and tribulations which we had to encounter while paving the path for civilization and national prosperity. "the whistle of the locomotive has drowned the howl of the coyote; the barb-wire fence has narrowed the range of the cow-puncher; but no material evidence of prosperity can obliterate our contribution to nebraska's imperial progress. "through your kindness to-day i have tasted the sweetest fruit that grows on ambition's tree. if you extend your kindness and permit me to fall back into the ranks as a high private, my cup will be full. "in closing, let me call upon the 'wild west, the congress of rough riders of the world,' to voice their appreciation of the kindness you have shown them to-day." at a given signal the "wild west" gave three ringing cheers for nebraska and the trans-mississippi exposition. the cowboy band followed with the "red, white, and blue," and an exposition band responded with the "star-spangled banner." the company fell into line for a parade around the grounds, colonel cody following on his chestnut horse, duke. after him came the officials and invited guests in carriages; then came the cossacks, the cubans, the german cavalry, the united states cavalry, the mexicans, and representatives of twenty-five countries. as the parade neared its end, my brother turned to his friends and suggested that as they had been detained long past the dinner-hour in doing him honor, he would like to compensate them by giving an informal spread. this invitation was promptly accepted, and the company adjourned to a cafe, where a tempting luncheon was spread before them. never before had such a party of pioneers met around a banquet-table, and many were the reminiscences of early days brought out. mr. majors, the originator of the pony express line, was there. the two creighton brothers, who put through the first telegraph line, and took the occupation of the express riders from them, had seats of honor. a. d. jones was introduced as the man who carried the first postoffice of omaha around in his hat, and who still wore the hat. numbers of other pioneers were there, and each contributed his share of racy anecdotes and pleasant reminiscences. chapter xxxi. -the last of the great scouts. the story of frontier days is a tale that is told. the "wild west" has vanished like mist in the sun before the touch of the two great magicians of the nineteenth century--steam and electricity. the route of the old historic santa fe trail is nearly followed by the atchison, topeka and santa fe railroad, which was completed in 1880. the silence of the prairie was once broken by the wild war-whoop of the indian as he struggled to maintain his supremacy over some adjoining tribe; the muffled roar caused by the heavy hoof-beats of thousands of buffaloes was almost the only other sound that broke the stillness. to-day the shriek of the engine, the clang of the bell, and the clatter of the car-wheels form a ceaseless accompaniment to the cheerful hum of busy life which everywhere pervades the wilderness of thirty years ago. almost the only memorials of the struggles and privations of the hardy trappers and explorers, whose daring courage made the achievements of the present possible, are the historic landmarks which bear the names of some of these brave men. but these are very few in number. pike's peak lifts its snowy head to heaven in silent commemoration of the early traveler whose name it bears. simpson's rest, a lofty obelisk, commemorates the mountaineer whose life was for the most part passed upon its rugged slopes, and whose last request was that he should be buried on its summit. another cloud-capped mountain-height bears the name of fisher's peak, and thereby hangs a tale. {illust. caption = {signature of} w. f. cody} captain fisher commanded a battery in the army engaged in the conquest of new mexico. his command encamped near the base of the mountain which now bears his name. deceived by the illusive effect of the atmosphere, he started out for a morning stroll to the supposed near-by elevation, announcing that he would return in time for breakfast. the day passed with no sign of captain fisher, and night lengthened into a new day. when the second day passed without his return, his command was forced to believe that he had fallen a prey to lurking indians, and the soldiers were sadly taking their seats for their evening meal when the haggard and wearied captain put in an appearance. his morning stroll had occupied two days and a night; but he set out to visit the mountain, and he did it. the transcontinental line which supplanted the old salt lake trail, and is now known as the union pacific railroad, antedated the atchison, topeka and santa fe by eleven years. the story of the difficulties encountered, and the obstacles overcome in the building of this road, furnishes greater marvels than any narrated in the arabian nights' tales. this railroad superseded the pony express line, the reeking, panting horses of which used their utmost endeavor and carried their tireless riders fifteen miles an hour, covering their circuit in eight days' time at their swiftest rate of speed. the iron horse gives a sniff of disdain, and easily traverses the same distance, from the missouri line to the pacific coast, in three days. travelers who step aboard the swiftly moving, luxurious cars of to-day give little thought to their predecessors; for the dangers the early voyagers encountered they have no sympathy. the traveler in the stagecoach was beset by perils without from the indians and the outlaws; he faced the equally unpleasant companionship of fatigue and discomfort within. the jolting, swinging coach bounced and jounced the unhappy passengers as the reckless driver lashed the flying horses. away they galloped over mountains and through ravines, with no cessation of speed. even the shipper pays the low rate of transportation asked to-day with reluctance, and forgets the great debt he owes this adjunct of our civilization. but great as are the practical benefits derived from the railways, we cannot repress a sigh as we meditate on the picturesque phases of the vanished era. gone are the bullwhackers and the prairie-schooners! gone are the stagecoaches and their drivers! gone are the pony express riders! gone are the trappers, the hardy pioneers, the explorers, and the scouts! gone is the prairie monarch, the shaggy, unkempt buffalo! in 1869, only thirty years ago, the train on the kansas pacific-road was delayed eight hours in consequence of the passage of an enormous herd of buffaloes over the track in front of it. but the easy mode of travel introduced by the railroad brought hundreds of sportsmen to the plains, who wantonly killed this noble animal solely for sport, and thousands of buffaloes were sacrificed for their skins, for which there was a widespread demand. from 1868 to 1881, in kansas alone, there was paid out $2,500,000 for the bones of this animal, which were gathered up on the prairie and used in the carbon works of the country. this represents a total death-rate of 31,000,000 buffaloes in one state. as far as i am able to ascertain, there remains at this writing only one herd, of less than twenty animals, out of all the countless thousands that roamed the prairie so short a time ago, and this herd is carefully preserved in a private park. there may be a few isolated specimens in menageries and shows, but this wholesale slaughter has resulted in the practical extermination of the species. as with the animal native to our prairies, so has it been with the race native to our land. we may deplore the wrongs of the indian, and sympathize with his efforts to wrest justice from his so-called protectors. we may admire his poetic nature, as evidenced in the myths and legends of the race. we may be impressed by the stately dignity and innate ability as orator and statesman which he displays. we may preserve the different articles of his picturesque garb as relics. but the old, old drama of history is repeating itself before the eyes of this generation; the inferior must give way to the superior civilization. the poetic, picturesque, primitive red man must inevitably succumb before the all-conquering tread of his pitiless, practical, progressive white brother. cooper has immortalized for us the extinction of a people in the "last of the mohicans." many another tribe has passed away, unhonored and unsung. westward the "star of empire" takes its way; the great domain west of the mississippi is now peopled by the white race, while the indians are shut up in reservations. their doom is sealed; their sun is set. "kismet" has been spoken of them; the total extinction of the race is only a question of time. in the words of rudyard kipling: "take up the white man's burden- ye dare not stoop to less- nor call too loud on freedom to cloke your weariness. by all ye will or whisper, by all ye leave or do, the silent, sullen peoples shall weigh your god and you." of this past epoch of our national life there remains but one well-known representative. that one is my brother. he occupies a unique place in the portrait gallery of famous americans to-day. it is not alone his commanding personality, nor the success he has achieved along various lines, which gives him the strong hold he has on the hearts of the american people, or the absorbing interest he possesses in the eyes of foreigners. the fact that in his own person he condenses a period of national history is a large factor in the fascination he exercises over others. he may fitly be named the "last of the great scouts." he has had great predecessors. the mantle of kit carson has fallen upon his shoulders, and he wears it worthily. he has not, and never can have, a successor. he is the vanishing-point between the rugged wilderness of the past in western life and the vast achievement in the present. when the "wild west" disbands, the last vestige of our frontier life passes from the scene of active realities, and becomes a matter of history. "life is real, life is earnest," sings the poet, and real and earnest it has been for my brother. it has been spent in others' service. i cannot recall a time when he has not thus been laden with heavy burdens. yet for himself he has won a reputation, national and international. a naval officer visiting in china relates that as he stepped ashore he was offered two books for purchase--one the bible, the other a "life of buffalo bill." for nearly half a century, which comprises his childhood, youth, and manhood, my brother has been before the public. he can scarcely be said to have had a childhood, so early was he thrust among the rough scenes of frontier life, therein to play a man's part at an age when most boys think of nothing more than marbles and tops. he enlisted in the union army before he was of age, and did his share in upholding the flag during the civil war as ably as many a veteran of forty, and since then he has remained, for the most part, in his country's service, always ready to go to the front in any time of danger. he has achieved distinction in many and various ways. he is president of the largest irrigation enterprise in the world, president of a colonization company, of a town-site company, and of two transportation companies. he is the foremost scout and champion buffalo-hunter of america, one of the crack shots of the world, and its greatest popular entertainer. he is broad-minded and progressive in his views, inheriting from both father and mother a hatred of oppression in any form. taking his mother as a standard, he believes the franchise is a birthright which should appertain to intelligence and education, rather than to sex. it is his public career that lends an interest to his private life, in which he has been a devoted and faithful son and brother, a kind and considerate husband, a loving and generous father. "only the names of them that are upright, brave, and true can be honorably known," were the mother's dying words; and honorably known has his name become, in his own country and across the sea. with the fondest expectation he looks forward to the hour when he shall make his final bow to the public and retire to private life. it is his long-cherished desire to devote his remaining years to the development of the big horn basin, in wyoming. he has visited every country in europe, and has looked upon the most beautiful of old world scenes. he is familiar with all the most splendid regions of his own land, but to him this new el dorado of the west is the fairest spot on earth. he has already invested thousands of dollars and given much thought and attention toward the accomplishment of his pet scheme. an irrigating ditch costing nearly a million dollars now waters this fertile region, and various other improvements are under way, to prepare a land flowing with milk and honey for the reception of thousands of homeless wanderers. like the children of israel, these would never reach the promised land but for the untiring efforts of a moses to go on before; but unlike the ancient guide and scout of sacred history, my brother has been privileged to penetrate the remotest corner of this primitive land of canaan. the log cabin he has erected there is not unlike the one of our childhood days. here he finds his haven of rest, his health-resort, to which he hastens when the show season is over and he is free again for a space. he finds refreshment in the healthful, invigorating atmosphere of his chosen retreat; he enjoys sweet solace from the cares of life under the influence of its magnificent scenery. and here, in the shadow of the rockies, yet in the very "light of things," it is his wish to finish his days as he began them, in opening up for those who come after him the great regions of the still undeveloped west, and in poring over the lesson learned as a boy on the plains: "that nature never did betray the heart that loved her." the life of hon. william f. cody known as buffalo bill the famous hunter, scout and guide. _an autobiography_. 1879 to general philip h. sheridan, this book is most respectfully dedicated by the author. [illustration: yours sincerely, w. f. cody] introductory. the life and adventures of hon. william f. cody--buffalo bill--as told by himself, make up a narrative which reads more like romance than reality, and which in many respects will prove a valuable contribution to the records of our western frontier history. while no literary excellence is claimed for the narrative, it has the greater merit of being truthful, and is verified in such a manner that no one can doubt its veracity. the frequent reference to such military men as generals sheridan, carr, merritt, crook, terry, colonel royal, and other officers under whom mr. cody served as scout and guide at different times and in various sections of the frontier, during the numerous indian campaigns of the last ten or twelve years, affords ample proof of his genuineness as a thoroughbred scout. there is no humbug or braggadocio about buffalo bill. he is known far and wide, and his reputation has been earned honestly and by hard work. by a combination of circumstances he was educated to the life of a plainsman from his youth up; and not the least interesting portion of his career is that of his early life, passed as it was in kansas during the eventful and troubleous times connected with the settlement of that state. spending much time in the saddle, while a mere boy he crossed the plains many times in company with bull-trains; on some of these trips he met with thrilling adventures and had several hairbreadth escapes from death at the hands of indians. then, for a while, he was dashing over the plains as a pony-express rider. soon afterwards, mounted on the high seat of an overland stagecoach, he was driving a six-in-hand team. we next hear of him cracking the bull-whacker's whip, and commanding a wagon-train through a wild and dangerous country to the far west. during the civil war he enlisted as a private, and became a scout with the union army; since the war he has been employed as hunter, trapper, guide, scout and actor. as a buffalo hunter he has no superior; as a trailer of indians he has no equal. for many years he has taken an active part in all the principal indian campaigns on the western frontier, and as a scout and guide he has rendered inestimable services to the various expeditions which he accompanied. during his life on the plains he not only had many exciting adventures himself, but he became associated with many of the other noted plainsmen, and in his narrative he frequently refers to them and relates many interesting incidents and thrilling events connected with them. he has had a fertile field from which to produce this volume, and has frequently found it necessary to condense the facts in order to embody the most interesting events of his life. the following from a letter written by general e. a. carr, of the fifth cavalry, now commanding fort mcpherson, speaks for itself: * * * * * "i first met mr. cody, october 22d, 1868, at buffalo station, on the kansas pacific railroad, in kansas. he was scout and guide for the seven companies of the fifth cavalry, then under colonel royal, and of which i was ordered to take the command. "from his services with my command, steadily in the field for nine months, from october, 1868, to july, 1869, and at subsequent times, i am qualified to bear testimony to his qualities and character. "he was very modest and unassuming. i did not know for a long time how good a title he had to the appellation, 'buffalo bill.' i am apt to discount the claims of scouts, as they will occasionally exaggerate; and when i found one who said nothing about himself, i did not think much of him, till i had proved him. he is a natural gentleman in his manners as well as in character, and has none of the roughness of the typical frontiersman. he can take his own part when required, but i have never heard of his using a knife or a pistol, or engaging in a quarrel where it could be avoided. his personal strength and activity are such that he can hardly meet a man whom he cannot handle, and his temper and disposition are so good that no one has reason to quarrel with him. "his eye-sight is better than a good field glass; he is the best trailer i ever heard of; and also the best judge of the 'lay of country,'--that is, he is able to tell what kind of country is ahead, so as to know how to act. he is a perfect judge of distance, and always ready to tell correctly how many miles it is to water, or to any place, or how many miles have been marched. "mr. cody seemed never to tire and was always ready to go, in the darkest night or the worst weather, and usually volunteered, knowing what the emergency required. his trailing, when following indians or looking for stray animals or game, is simply wonderful. he is a most extraordinary hunter. i could not believe that a man could be certain to shoot antelope running till i had seen him do it so often. "in a fight mr. cody is never noisy, obstreperous or excited. in fact, i never hardly noticed him in a fight, unless i happened to want him, or he had something to report, when he was always in the right place, and his information was always valuable and reliable. "during the winter of 1868, we encountered hardships and exposure in terrific snow storms, sleet, etc., etc. on one occasion, that winter, mr. cody showed his quality by quietly offering to go with some dispatches to general sheridan, across a dangerous region, where another principal scout was reluctant to risk himself. "on the 13th of may, 1869, he was in the fight at elephant rock, kansas, and trailed the indians till the 16th, when we got another fight out of them on spring creek, in nebraska, and scattered them after following them one hundred and fifty miles in three days. it was at spring creek where cody was ahead of the command about three miles, with the advance guard of forty men, when two hundred indians suddenly surrounded them. our men, dismounted and formed in a circle, holding their horses, firing and slowly retreating. they all, to this day, speak of cody's coolness and bravery. this was the dog soldier band which captured mrs. alderdice and mrs. weichel in kansas. they strangled mrs. alderdice's baby, killed mrs. weichel's husband, and took a great deal of property and stock from different persons. we got on their trail again, june 28th, and followed it nearly two hundred miles, till we struck the indians on sunday, july 11th, 1869, at summit spring. the indians, as soon as they saw us coming, killed mrs. alderdice with a hatchet, and shot mrs. weichel, but fortunately not fatally, and she was saved. "mr. cody has since served with me as post guide and scout at fort mcpherson, where he frequently distinguished himself. "in the summer of 1876, cody went with me to the black hills region where he killed yellow-hand. afterwards he was with the big horn and yellowstone expedition. i consider that his services to the country and the army by trailing, finding and fighting indians, and thus protecting the frontier settlers, and by guiding commands over the best and most practicable routes, have been far beyond the compensation he has received. his friends of the fifth cavalry are all glad that he is in a lucrative business, and hope that he may live long and prosper. personally, i feel under obligations to him for assistance in my campaigns which no other man could, or would, have rendered. of course i wish him, and his, every success." e. a. carr, lt. col. 5th cav., brev. maj. gen'l u. s. army. fort mcpherson, nebraska, july 3d, 1878 * * * * * buffalo bill is now an actor, and is meeting with success. he owns a large and valuable farm adjoining the town of north platte, nebraska, and there his family live in ease and comfort. he has also an extensive cattle ranch on the dismal river, sixty-five miles north of north platte, his partner being major frank north, the old commander of the celebrated pawnee scouts. while many events of his career are known to the public, yet the reader will find in this narrative much that will be entirely new and intensely interesting to both young and old. the publisher. illustrations. the author, portrait, on steel youthful adventures samuel's fatal accident billings as a bocarro billings riding little gray exciting sport staking out lots my father stabbed my father's escape life or death boyish sport two to one killing my first indian a prairie schooner wild bill (portrait) holding the fort camping in a sepulchre rafting os the platte riding pony express saved by chief rain in-the-face changing horses attack on stage coach alf. slade killing the driver the horse thieves den my escape from the horse thieves bob scott's famous coach hide "nearly every man had two horses" wild bill and the outlaws wild bill's duel general geo. a. custer (portrait) departing riches tongues and tenderloins the indian horse thieves the man who fired the gun buffalo bill "down went his horse" the fire signal kit carson (portrait) a good horse a big joke ambushing the indians whoa there! delivering dispatches to general sheridan the two tramps carrying dispatches gen'l phil. sheridan (portrait) battle on the arickaree bringing meat into camp "indians!" general e. a. carr (portrait) a crack shot a hard crowd camping in the snow a welcome visitor antelopes the recapture of bevins robbing a stage coach indian village the killing of tall bull an old bone a wedding ceremony a ride for life prairie dog village mccarthy's fright finding the remains of the buck party spotted tail (portrait) grand duke alexis (portrait) indian exercises two-lance killing a buffalo an embarrassing situation? texas jack (portrait) rifles studying the parts behind the footlights learning the game getting satisfaction a duel with chief yellow hand scouting on a steamboat close quarters one of the troupe contents chapter i. childhood. early days in iowa--a brother's death--the family move to a new country--incidents on the road--the horse race--our "little gray" victorious--a pleasant acquaintance--uncle elijah cody--our new home--my ponies. chapter ii. early influences. dress parade at fort leavenworth--the beautiful salt creek valley--the mormon emigrants--the wagon trains--the cholera--a lively scene--my first sight of indians--"dolly" and "prince"--a long-lost relative turns up--adventurous career of horace billings--his splendid horsemanship--catching wild horses. chapter iii. boy days in kansas. my indian acquaintances--an indian barbecue--beginning of the kansas troubles--an indiscreet speech by my father, who is stabbed for his boldness--persecutions at the hands of the missourians--a strategic escape--a battle at hickory point--a plan to kill father is defeated by myself--he is elected to the lecompton legislature--i enter the employ of william russell--herding cattle--a plot to blow up our house--a drunken missourian on the war-path. chapter iv. youthful experiences. at school--my first love scrape--i punish my rival, and then run away--my first trip across the plains--steve gobel and i are friends once more--death of my father--i start for salt lake--our wagon train surprised by indians, who drive us off, and capture our outfit--i kill my first indian--our return to leavenworth--i am interviewed by a newspaper reporter, who gives me a good "send-off." chapter v. in business. my second trip across the plains--the salt lake trail--wild bill--he protects me from the assault of a bully--a buffalo hunt--our wagon train stampeded by buffaloes--we are taken prisoners by the mormons--we proceed to fort bridger. chapter vi. hard times. a dreary winter at fort bridger--short rations--mule steaks--homeward bound in the spring--a square meal--corraled by indians--a mule barricade--we hold the fort--home again--off for the west--trapping on the chugwater and laramie rivers--we go to sleep in a human grave--a horrifying discovery--a jollification at oak grove ranch--home once more--i go to school--the pike's peak gold excitement--down the platte river on a raft--i become a pony express rider. chapter vii. accidents and escapes. trapping on prairie dog creek--an accident whereby we lose one of our oxen--i fall and break my leg--left alone in camp--unwelcome visitors--a party of hostile sioux call upon me and make themselves at home--old rain-in-the-face saves my life--snow-bound-a dreary imprisonment--return of my partner--a joyful meeting--we pull out for home--harrington dies. chapter viii. adventures on the overland road. introduction to alf. slade--he employs me as a pony express rider--i make a long ride--indians attack an overland stage coach--wild bill leads a successful expedition against the indians--a grand jollification at sweetwater bridge--slade kills a stage driver--the end of the spree--a bear hunt--i fall among horse thieves--my escape--i guide a party to capture the gang. chapter ix. fast driving. bob scott, the stage driver--the story of the most reckless piece of stage driving that ever occurred on the overland road. chapter x. questionable proceedings. the civil war--jayhawking--wild bill's fight with the mccandless gang of desperadoes--i become wild bill's assistant wagon-master--we lose our last dollar on a horse race--he becomes a government scout--he has a duel at springfield. chapter xi. a soldier. scouting against the indians in the kiowa and comanche country--the red-legged scouts--a trip to denver--death of my mother--i awake one morning to find myself a soldier--i am put on detached service as a scout--the chase after price--an unexpected meeting with wild bill--an unpleasant situation--wild bill's escape from the southern lines--the charge upon price's army--we return to springfield. chapter xii. a wedding. i fall in love--a successful courting expedition--i am married--the happiest event of my life--our trip up the missouri river--the bushwhackers come after me--i become landlord of a hotel--off for the plains once more--scouting on the frontier for the government--a ride with general custer--an expedition from fort hays has a lively chase after indians--cholera in camp. chapter xiii. a millionaire. a town lot speculation--"a big thing"--i become half-owner of a city--corner lots reserved--rome's rapid rise--we consider ourselves millionaires--dr. webb--hays city--we regard ourselves as paupers--a race with indians--captain graham's scout after the indians. chapter xiv. earning a title. hunting for the kansas pacific--how i got my name of "buffalo bill"--the indians give me a lively chase--they get a dose of their own medicine--another adventure--scotty and myself corraled by indians--a fire signal brings assistance--kit carson. chapter xv. champion buffalo killer. a buffalo killing match with billy comstock--an excursion party from st. louis come out to witness the sport--i win the match, and am declared the champion buffalo killer of the plains. chapter xvi. a courier. scouting--captured by indians--a strategic escape--a hot pursuit--the indians led into an ambush--old satanta's tricks and threats--excitement at fort larned--herders and wood-choppers killed by the indians--a perilous ride--i get into the wrong pew--safe, arrival at fort hays--interview with general sheridan--my ride to fort dodge--i return to fort larned--my mule gets away from me--a long walk--the mule passes in his chips. chapter xvii. an appointment. general sheridan appoints me guide and chief of scouts of the fifth cavalry--the dog soldiers--general forsyth's fight on the arickaree fork. chapter xviii. scouting. arrival of the fifth cavalry at fort hays--out on a scout--a little skirmish with indians--a buffalo hunt--a false alarm in camp--a scout on the beaver--the supply camp is surprised--arrival of general carr--the new lieutenant and his reception--another indian hunt--an engagement--a crack shot--i have a little indian fight of my own--return to fort wallace--while hunting buffaloes with a small party, we are attacked by fifty indians. chapter xix. a tough time. a winter's campaign in the canadian river country--searching for penrose's command--a heavy snow-storm--taking the wagon train down a mountain side--camp turkey--darkey deserters from penrose's command--starvation in penrose's camp--we reach the command with timely relief--wild bill--a beer jollification--hunting antelopes--return to fort lyon. chapter xx. an exciting chase. a difficulty with a quartermaster's agent--i give him a severe pounding--stormy interview with general bankhead and captain laufer--i put another "head" on the quartermaster's agent--i am arrested--in the guard-house--general bankhead releases me--a hunt after horse thieves--their capture--escape of bevins--his recapture--escape of williams--bevins breaks out of jail--his subsequent career. chapter xxi. a military expedition. the fifth cavalry is ordered to the department of the platte--liquids _vs._ solids--a skirmish with the indians--arrival at fort mcpherson--appointed chief of scouts--major frank north and the pawnee scouts--belden the white chief--the shooting match--review of the pawnee scouts--an expedition against the indians--"buckskin joe." chapter xxii. a desperate fight. pawnees _vs_. siouxs--we strike a large trail--the print of a woman's shoe--the summit springs fight--a successful charge--capture of the indian village--rescue of a white woman--one hundred and forty indians killed--i kill tall bull and capture his swift steed--the command proceeds to fort sedgwick--powder face--a scout after indian horse-thieves--"ned buntline"--"tall bull" as a racer--powder face wins a race without a rider--an expedition to the niobrara--an indian tradition. chapter xxiii. administering justice. i make my home at fort mcpherson--arrival of my family--hunting and horse racing--an indian raid--powder face stolen--a lively chase--an expedition to the republican river country--general duncan--a skirmish with the indians--a stern chase--an addition to my family--kit carson cody--i am made a justice of the peace--a case of replevin--i perform a marriage ceremony--professor marsh's fossil-hunting expedition. chapter xxiv. hunting expeditions. the grand hunt of general sheridan, james gordon bennett, and other distinguished gentlemen--from fort mcpherson to fort hays--incidents of the trip--"ten days on the plains"--general carr's hunting expedition--a joke on mccarthy--a search for the remains of buck's surveying party, who had been murdered by the indians. chapter xxv. hunting with a grand duke. the grand duke alexis hunt--selection of a camp--i visit spotted tail's camp--the grand duke and party arrive at camp alexis--spotted tail's indians give a dance--the hunt--alexis kills his first buffalo--champagne--the duke kills another buffalo--more champagne--end of the hunt--departure of the duke and his party. chapter xxvi. sight-seeing. my visit in the east--reception in chicago--arrival in new york--i am well entertained by my old hunting friends--i view the sights of the metropolis--ned buntline--the play of "buffalo bill"--i am called upon to make a speech--a visit to my relatives--return to the west. chapter xxvii. honors. arrival of the third cavalry at fort mcpherson--a scout after indians--a desperate fight with thirteen indians--a hunt with the earl of dunraven--a hunt with a chicago party--milligan's bravery--neville--i am elected to the nebraska legislature. chapter xxviii. an actor. i resolve to go upon the stage--i resign my seat in the legislature--texas jack--"the scouts of the plains"--a crowded house--a happy thought--a brilliant _dã©but_--a tour of the country. chapter xxix. starring. the theatrical season of 1873-74--wild bill and his tricks--he leaves us at rochester--he becomes a "star"--a bogus "wild bill "--a hunt with thomas p. medley, an english gentleman--a scout on the powder river and in the big horn country--california joe--theatrical tour of 1874 and 1875--death of my son, kit carson cody. chapter xxx. a return to the plains. the sioux campaign of 1876--i am appointed guide and chief of scouts of the fifth cavalry--an engagement with eight hundred cheyennes--a duel with yellow hand--generals terry and crook meet, and cooperate together. chapter xxxi. dangerous work. scouting on a steamboat--captain grant marsh--a trip down the yellowstone river--acting as dispatch carrier--i return east and open my theatrical season with a new play--immense audiences--i go into the cattle business in company with major prank north--my home at north platte. chapter xxxii. conclusion. a cattle "round-up"--a visit to my family in our new home--a visit from my sisters--i go to denver--buying more cattle--pawnee and nez-perces indians engaged for a theatrical tour--the season of 1878-79--an experience in washington--home once more. the life of hon. william f. cody chapter i. childhood. my _dã©but_ upon the world's stage occurred on february 26th, 1845. the scene of this first important event in my adventurous career, being in scott county, in the state of iowa. my parents, isaac and mary ann cody, who were numbered among the pioneers of iowa, gave to me the name of william frederick. i was the fourth child in the family. martha and julia, my sisters, and samuel my brother, had preceded me, and the children who came after me were eliza, nellie, mary, and charles, born in the order named. at the time of my birth the family resided on a farm which they called "napsinekee place,"--an indian name--and here the first six or seven years of my childhood were spent. when i was about seven years old my father moved the family to the little town of leclair, located on the bank of the mississippi, fifteen miles above the city of davenport. even at that early age my adventurous spirit led me into all sorts of mischief and danger, and when i look back upon my childhood's days i often wonder that i did not get drowned while swimming or sailing, or my neck broken while i was stealing apples in the neighboring orchards. i well remember one day that i went sailing with two other boys; in a few minutes we found ourselves in the middle of the mississippi; becoming frightened at the situation we lost our presence of mind, as well as our oars. we at once set up a chorus of pitiful yells, when a man, who fortunately heard us, came to our rescue with a canoe and towed us ashore. we had stolen the boat, and our trouble did not end until we had each received a merited whipping, which impressed the incident vividly upon my mind. i recollect several occasions when i was nearly eaten up by a large and savage dog, which acted as custodian of an orchard and also of a melon patch, which i frequently visited. once, as i was climbing over the fence with a hatful of apples, this dog, which had started for me, caught me by the seat of the pantaloons, and while i clung to the top of the fence he literally tore them from my legs, but fortunately did not touch my flesh. i got away with the apples, however, by tumbling over to the opposite side of the fence with them. it was at leclair that i acquired my first experience as an equestrian. somehow or other i had managed to corner a horse near a fence, and had climbed upon his back. the next moment the horse got his back up and hoisted me into the air, i fell violently to the ground, striking upon my side in such a way as to severely wrench and strain my arm, from the effects of which i did not recover for some time. i abandoned the art of horsemanship for a while, and was induced after considerable persuasion to turn my attention to letters--my a, b, c's--which were taught me at the village school. my father at this time was running a stage line, between chicago and davenport, no railroads then having been built west of chicago. in 1849 he got the california fever and made up his mind to cross the great plains--which were then and for years afterwards called the american desert--to the pacific coast. he got ready a complete outfit and started with quite a party. after proceeding a few miles, all but my father, and greatly to his disappointment, changed their minds for some reason and abandoned the enterprise. they all returned home, and soon afterwards father moved his family out to walnut grove farm, in scott county. [illustration: youthful adventures.] while living there i was sent to school, more for the purpose of being kept out of mischief than to learn anything. much of my time was spent in trapping quails, which were very plentiful. i greatly enjoyed studying the habits of the little birds, and in devising traps to take them in. i was most successful with the common figure "4" trap which i could build myself. thus i think it was that i acquired my love for hunting. i visited the quail traps twice a day, morning and evening, and as i had now become quite a good rider i was allowed to have one of the farm horses to carry me over my route. many a jolly ride i had and many a boyish prank was perpetrated after getting well away from and out of the sight of home with the horse. there was one event which occurred in my childhood, which i cannot recall without a feeling of sadness. it was the death of my brother samuel, who was accidentally killed in his twelfth year. my father at the time, being considerable of a politician as well as a farmer, was attending a political convention; for he was well known in those days as an old line whig. he had been a member of the iowa legislature, was a justice of the peace, and had held other offices. he was an excellent stump speaker and was often called upon to canvass the country round about for different candidates. the convention which he was attending at the time of the accident was being held at a cross-road tavern called "sherman's," about a mile away. samuel and i had gone out together on horseback for the cows. he rode a vicious mare, which mother had told him time and again not to ride, as it had an ugly disposition. we were passing the school house just as the children were being dismissed, when samuel undertook to give an exhibition of his horsemanship, he being a good rider for a boy. the mare, betsy, became unmanageable, reared and fell backward upon him, injuring him internally. he was picked up and carried amid great excitement to the house of a neighbor. i at once set out with my horse at the top of his speed for my father, and informed him of samuel's mishap. he took the horse and returned immediately. when i arrived at mr. burns' house, where my brother was, i found my father, mother and sisters there, all weeping bitterly at samuel's bedside. a physician, after examining him, pronounced his injuries to be of a fatal character. he died the next morning. my brother was a great favorite with everybody, and his death cast a gloom upon the whole neighborhood. it was a great blow to all of the family, and especially to father who seemed to be almost heart broken over it. father had been greatly disappointed at the failure of his california expedition, and still desired to move to some new country. the death of samuel no doubt increased this desire, and he determined to emigrate. accordingly, early in the spring of 1852, he disposed of his farm, and late in march we took our departure for kansas, which was then an unsettled territory. our outfit consisted of one carriage, three wagons and some fine blooded horses. the carriage was occupied by my mother and sisters. thus we left our iowa home. [illustration: samuel's fatal accident.] father had a brother, elijah cody, living at weston, platte county, missouri. he was the leading merchant of the place. as the town was located near the kansas line father determined to visit him, and thither our journey was directed. our route lay across iowa and missouri, and the trip proved of interest to all of us, and especially to me. there was something new to be seen at nearly every turn of the road. at night the family generally "put up" at hotels or cross-road taverns along the way. one day as we were proceeding on our way, we were met by a horseman who wanted to sell his horse, or trade-him for another. he said the horse had been captured wild in california; that he was a runner and a racer; that he had been sold by his different owners on account of his great desire to run away when taking part in a race. the stranger seemed to be very frank in his statements, and appeared to be very anxious to get rid of the animal, and as we were going to kansas where there would be plenty of room for the horse to run as far as he pleased, father concluded to make a trade for him; so an exchange of animals was easily and satisfactorily effected. the new horse being a small gray, we named him "little gray." an opportunity of testing the racing qualities of the horse was soon afforded. one day we drove into a small missouri town or hamlet which lay on our route, where the farmers from the surrounding country were congregated for the purpose of having a holiday--the principal amusement being horse-racing. father had no trouble in arranging a race for little gray, and selected one of his teamsters to ride him. the missourians matched their fastest horse against him and were confident of cleaning out "the emigrant," as they called father. they were a hard looking crowd. they wore their pantaloons in their boots; their hair was long, bushy and untrimmed; their faces had evidently never made the acquaintance of a razor. they seemed determined to win the race by fair means or foul. they did a great deal of swearing, and swaggered about in rather a ruffianly style. all these incidents attracted my attention--everything being new to me--and became firmly impressed upon my memory. my father, being unaccustomed to the ways of such rough people, acted very cautiously; and as they were all very anxious to bet on their own horse, he could not be induced to wager a very large sum on little gray, as he was afraid of foul play. "wa-al, now, stranger," exclaimed one of the crowd, "what kind o' critter have you got anyhow, as how you're afraid to back him up very heavy?" "i'll bet five to one agin the emergrant's, gray," said another. "i'm betting the same way. i'll go yer five hundred dollars agin a hundred that the gray nag gits left behind. do i hear any man who wants to come agin me on them yer terms?" shouted still another. "hi! yer boys, give the stranger a chance. don't scare him out of his boots," said a man who evidently was afraid that my father might back out. father had but little to say, however, and would not venture more than fifty dollars on the result of the race. "gentlemen, i am only racing my horse for sport," said he, "and am only betting enough to make it interesting. i have never seen little gray run, and therefore don't know what he can do;" at the same time he was confident that his horse would come in the winner, as he had chosen an excellent rider for him. finally all the preliminaries of the contest were arranged. the judges were chosen and the money was deposited in the hands of a stake-holder. the race was to be a single dash, of a mile. the horses were brought side by side and mounted by their riders. at the signal--"one, two, three, go!"--off they started like a flash. the missouri horse took the lead for the first quarter of a mile; at the half-mile, however, he began to weaken. the missourians shouted themselves hoarse in urging their horse, but all to no avail. the little gray passed him and continued to leave him farther and farther behind, easily winning the race. the affair created a great deal of enthusiasm; but the race was conducted with honor and fairness, which was quite an agreeable surprise to my father, who soon found the missourians to be at heart very clever men--thus showing that outside appearances are sometimes very deceptive; they nearly all came up and congratulated him on his success, asked him why he had not bet more money on the race, and wanted to buy little gray. "gentlemen," said he, "when i drove up here and arranged for this race, i felt confident that my horse would win it. i was among entire strangers, and therefore i only bet a small amount. i was afraid that you would cheat me in some way or other. i see now that i was mistaken, as i have found you to be honorable men." "wa-all, you could have broke _me_" said the man who wanted to bet the five hundred dollars to one hundred, "for that there nag o' yourn looks no more like a runner nor i do." during our stay in the place they treated us very kindly, and continued to try to purchase little gray. my father, however, remained firm in his determination not to part with him. the next place of interest which we reached, after resuming our journey, was within twenty miles of weston. we had been stopping at farm houses along the road, and could not get anything to eat in the shape of bread, except corn bread, of which all had become heartily tired. as we were driving along, we saw in the distance a large and handsome brick residence. father said: "they probably have white bread there." we drove up to the house and learned that it was owned and occupied by mrs. burns; mother of a well-known lawyer of that name, who is now living in leavenworth. she was a wealthy lady, and gave us to understand in a pleasant way, that she did not entertain travelers. my father, in the course of the conversation with her, said: "do you know elijah cody?" "indeed, i do," said she; "he frequently visits us, and we visit him; we are the best of friends." "he is a brother of mine," said father. "is it possible!" she exclaimed; "why, you must remain here all night. have your family come into the house at once. you must not go another step today." the kind invitation was accepted, and we remained there over night. as father had predicted, we found plenty of white bread at this house, and it proved quite a luxurious treat. my curiosity was considerably aroused by the many negroes which i saw about the premises, as i had scarcely ever seen any colored people, the few, being on the steamboats as they passed up and down the mississippi river. the next day my father and mother drove over to weston in a carriage, and returned with my uncle elijah. we then all proceeded to his house, and as kansas was not yet open for settlement as a territory, we remained there a few days, while father crossed over into kansas on a prospecting tour. he visited the kickapoo agency--five miles above weston--on the kansas side of the missouri river. he became acquainted with the agent, and made arrangements to establish himself there as an indian trader. he then returned to weston and located the family on one of elijah cody's farms, three miles from town, where we were to remain until kansas should be thrown open for settlement. after completing these arrangements, he established a trading post at salt creek valley, in kansas, four miles from the kickapoo agency. one day, after he had been absent some little time, he came home and said that he had bought two ponies for me, and that next morning he would take me over into kansas. this was pleasant news, as i had been very anxious to go there with him, and the fact that i was now the owner of two ponies made me feel very proud. that night i could not sleep a wink. in the morning i was up long before the sun, and after an early breakfast, father and i started out on our trip. crossing the missouri river at the rialto ferry, we landed in kansas and passed along to fort leavenworth, four miles distant. chapter ii early influences. general harney was in command at fort leavenworth at the time of our visit, and a regiment of cavalry was stationed there. they were having a dress parade when we rode up, and as this was the first time that i had ever seen any soldiers, i thought it was a grand sight. i shall never forget it, especially the manoeuvres on horseback. after witnessing the parade we resumed our journey. on the way to my father's trading camp we had to cross over a high hill known as salt creek hill, from the top of which we looked down upon the most beautiful valley i have ever seen. it was about twelve miles long and five miles wide. the different tributaries of salt creek came down from the range of hills at the southwest. at the foot of the valley another small river--plum creek, also flowed. the bluffs fringed with trees, clad in their full foliage, added greatly to the picturesqueness of the scene. while this beautiful valley greatly interested me, yet the most novel sight, of an entirely different character, which met my enraptured gaze, was the vast number of white-covered wagons, or "prairie-schooners," which were encamped along the different streams. i asked my father what they were and where they were going; he explained to me that they were emigrant wagons bound for utah and california. at that time the mormon and california trails ran through this valley, which was always selected as a camping place. there were at least one thousand wagons in the valley, and their white covers lent a pleasing contrast to the green grass. the cattle were quietly grazing near the wagons, while the emigrants were either resting or attending to camp duties. a large number of the wagons, as i learned from my father, belonged to majors & russell, the great government freighters. they had several trains there, each consisting of twenty-five wagons, heavily loaded with government supplies. they were all camped and corraled in a circle. while we were viewing this scene, a long wagon train came pulling up the hill, bound out from fort leavenworth to some distant frontier post. the cattle were wild and the men were whipping them fearfully, the loud reports of the bull-whips sounding like gun-shots. they were "doubling-up," and some of the wagons were being drawn by fifteen yokes of oxen. i remember asking my father a great many questions, and he explained to me all about the freighting business across the great plains, and told me about the different government posts. pointing over to the army of wagons camped below us, he showed me which were the mormons' and which were the californians', and said that we must steer clear of the former as the cholera was raging among them. five hundred had died that spring--1853--and the grave-yard was daily increasing its dimensions. the unfortunate people had been overtaken by the dreadful disease, and had been compelled to halt on their journey until it abated. while we were looking at the mormons they were holding a funeral service over the remains of some of their number who had died. their old cemetery is yet indicated by various land-marks, which, however, with the few remaining head-boards, are fast disappearing. we passed on through this "valley of death," as it might then have been very appropriately called, and after riding for some time, my father pointed out a large hill and showed me his camp, which afterwards became our home. there was another trading-post near by, which was conducted by mr. m.p. rively, who had a store built, partly frame, and partly of logs. we stopped at this establishment for a while, and found perhaps a hundred men, women and children gathered there, engaged in trading and gossipping. the men had huge pistols and knives in their belts; their pantaloons were tucked in their boots; and they wore large broad-rimmed hats. to me they appeared like a lot of cut-throat pirates who had come ashore for a lark. it was the first time i had ever seen men carrying pistols and knives, and they looked like a very dangerous crowd. some were buying articles of merchandise; others were talking about the cholera, the various camps, and matters of interest; while others were drinking whisky freely and becoming intoxicated. it was a busy and an exciting scene, and rively appeared to be doing a rushing trade. at some little distance from the store i noticed a small party of dark-skinned and rather fantastically dressed people, whom i ascertained were indians, and as i had never before seen a real live indian, i was much interested in them. i went over and endeavored to talk to them, but our conversation was very limited. that evening we reached our camp, which was located two miles west of rively's. the first thing i did was to hunt up my ponies, and from my father's description of them, i had no difficulty in finding them. they were lariated in the grass and i immediately ran up to them supposing them to be gentle animals. i was greatly mistaken, however, as they snorted and jumped away from me, and would not allow me to come near them. my father, who was standing not far distant, informed me that the ponies were not yet broken. i was somewhat disappointed at this; and thereupon he and one of his men caught one of the animals and bridled her, then putting me on her back, led her around, greatly to my delight. i kept petting her so much that she soon allowed me to approach her. she was a beautiful bay, and i named her "dolly;" the other pony was a sorrel, and i called him "prince." in the evening some indians visited the camp--which as yet consisted only of tents, though some logs had been cut preparatory to building houses--and exchanged their furs for clothing, sugar and tobacco. father had not learned their language, and therefore communicated with them by means of signs. we had our supper by the camp-fire, and that night was the first time i ever camped out and slept upon the ground. the day had been an eventful one to me, for all the incidents were full of excitement and romance to my youthful mind, and i think no apology is needed for mentioning so many of the little circumstances, which so greatly interested me in my childhood's days, and which no doubt had a great influence in shaping my course in after years. my love of hunting and scouting, and life on the plains generally, was the result of my early surroundings. the next morning father visited the kickapoo agency, taking me along. he rode a horse, and putting me on my pony "dolly," led the animal all the way. he seemed anxious to break me in, as well as the pony, and i greatly enjoyed this, my first day's ride on a kansas prairie. at the kickapoo village i saw hundreds of indians, some of whom were living in lodges, but the majority occupied log cabins. the agent resided in a double-hewed log house, one of the apartments of which was used as a school for the indians. the agency store was opposite this structure. all the buildings were whitewashed, and looked neat and clean. the kickapoos were very friendly indians, and we spent much of our time among them, looking about and studying their habits. after a while we returned to our own camp, and just as we arrived there, we saw a drove of horses--there were three or four hundred in all--approaching from the west, over the california trail. they were being driven by seven or eight mounted men, wearing sombreros, and dressed in buckskin, with their lariats dangling from their saddles, and they were followed by two or three pack-mules or horses. they went into camp a little below us on the bank of the stream. presently one of the men walked out towards our camp, and my father called to me to come and see a genuine western man; he was about six feet two inches tall, was well built, and had a light, springy and wiry step. he wore a broad-brimmed california hat, and was dressed in a complete suit of buckskin, beautifully trimmed and beaded. he saluted us, and father invited him to sit down, which he did. after a few moments conversation, he turned to me and said: "little one, i see you are working with your ponies. they are wild yet." i had been petting dolly and trying to break her, when my father called me to come and look at the californian. "yes," i replied, "and one of them never has been ridden." "well, i'll ride him for you;" and springing lightly to his feet, he continued: "come on. where is the animal?" accordingly we all went to the place where prince was lariated. the stranger untied the rope from the picket pin, and taking a half-loop around the pony's nose, he jumped on his back. in a moment he was flying over the prairie, the untamed steed rearing and pitching every once in a while in his efforts to throw his rider; but the man was not unseated. he was evidently an experienced horseman. i watched his every movement. i was unconsciously taking another lesson in the practical education which has served me so well through my life. the californian rode the pony until it was completely mastered, then coming up to me, jumped to the ground, handed me the rope, and said: "here's your pony. he's all right now." i led prince away, while father and the stranger sat down in the shade of a tent, and began talking about the latter's horsemanship, which father considered very remarkable. "oh, that's nothing; i was raised on horseback," said the californian; "i ran away from home when a boy, went to sea, and finally landed in the sandwich islands, where i fell in with a circus, with which i remained two years. during that time i became a celebrated bare-back rider. i then went to california, being attracted there by the gold excitement, the news of which had reached the islands. i did not go to mining, however, but went to work as a _bocarro_-catching and breaking wild horses, great numbers of which were roaming through california. last summer we caught this herd that we have brought with us across the plains, and are taking it to the states to sell. i came with the outfit, as it gave me a good opportunity to visit my relatives, who live at cleveland, ohio. i also had an uncle over at weston, across the river, when i ran away, and to-morrow i am going to visit the town to see if he is there yet." [illustration: billings as a bocarro] "i am acquainted in weston," said father, "and perhaps i can tell you about your uncle. what is his name?" "elijah cody," said the californian. "elijah cody!" exclaimed father, in great surprise; "why elijah cody is my brother. i am isaac cody. who are you?" "my name is horace billings," was the reply. "and you are my nephew. you are the son of my sister sophia." both men sprang to their feet and began shaking hands in the heartiest manner possible. the next moment father called me, and said: "come here, my son. here is some one you want to know." as i approached he introduced us. "horace, this is my only son. we call him little billy;" and turning to me said: "billy, my boy, this is a cousin of yours, horace billings, whom you've often heard me speak of." horace billings had never been heard of from the day he ran away from home, and his relatives had frequently wondered what had become of him. his appearance, therefore, in our camp in the guise of a californian was somewhat of a mystery to me, and i could hardly comprehend it until i had heard his adventurous story and learned the accidental manner in which he and father had made themselves known to each other. neither father nor myself would be satisfied until he had given us a full account of his wanderings and adventures, which were very exciting to me. late in the afternoon and just before the sun sank to rest, the conversation again turned upon horses and horsemanship. father told billings all about little gray, and his great fault of running away. billings laughed and said little gray could not run away with him. after supper he went out to look at the horse, which was picketed in the grass. surveying the animal carefully, he untied the lariat and slipped a running noose over his nose; then giving a light bound, he was on his back in a second, and away went the horse and his rider, circling round and round on the prairie. billings managed him by the rope alone, and convinced him that he was his master. when half a mile away, the horse started for camp at the top of his speed. billings stood straight up on his back, and thus rode him into camp. as he passed us he jumped to the ground, allowed the horse to run to the full length of the lariat, when he threw him a complete somersault. [illustration: billings riding little gray.] "that's a pretty good horse," said billings. "yes, he's a california horse; he was captured there wild," replied father. the exhibition of horsemanship given by billings on this occasion was really wonderful, and was the most skillful and daring feat of the kind that i ever witnessed. the remainder of the evening was spent around the camp, and horace, who remained there, entertained us with several interesting chapters of his experiences. next morning he walked over to his own camp, but soon returned, mounted on a beautiful horse, with a handsome saddle, bridle and lariat. i thought he was a magnificent looking man. i envied his appearance, and my ambition just then was to become as skillful a horseman as he was. he had rigged himself out in his best style in order to make a good impression on his uncle at weston, whither father and i accompanied him on horseback. he was cordially received by uncle elijah, who paid him every possible attention, and gave me a handsome saddle and bridle for my pony, and in the evening when we rode out to the farm to see my mother and sisters, i started ahead to show them my present, as well as to tell them who was coming. they were delighted to see the long-lost horace, and invited him to remain with us. when we returned to camp next day, horace settled up with the proprietor of the horses, having concluded to make his home with us for that summer at least. father employed him in cutting house logs and building houses, but this work not being adapted to his tastes, he soon gave it up, and obtained government employment in catching united states horses. during the previous spring the government herd had stampeded from fort leavenworth, and between two and three hundred of the horses were running at large over the kansas prairies, and had become quite wild. a reward of ten dollars was offered for every one of the horses that was captured and delivered to the quartermaster at fort leavenworth. this kind of work of course just suited the roaming disposition of billings, especially as it was similar to that in which he had been engaged in california. the horses had to be caught with a lasso, with which he was very expert. he borrowed little gray, who was fleet enough for the wildest of the runaways, and then he at once began his horse hunting. [illustration: exciting sport.] everything that he did, i wanted to do. he was a sort of hero in my eyes, and i wished to follow in his footsteps. at my request and with father's consent, he took me with him, and many a wild and perilous chase he led me over the prairie. i made rapid advances in the art of horsemanship, for i could have had no better teacher than horace billings. he also taught me how to throw the lasso, which, though it was a difficult thing to learn, i finally became, quite skillful in. whenever horace caught one of the horses which acted obstinately, and would not be led, he immediately threw him to the ground, put a saddle and bridle on him, and gave me little gray to take care of. he would then mount the captive horse and ride him into fort leavenworth. i spent two months with horace in this way, until at last no more of the horses were to be found. by this time i had become a remarkably good rider for a youth, and had brought both of my ponies under easy control. horace returned to assist father in hauling logs, which were being used in building a dwelling for the family who had moved over from missouri. one day a team did not work to suit him, and he gave the horses a cruel beating. this greatly displeased father, who took him to task for it. horace's anger flew up in a moment; throwing down the lines he hurried to the house, and began packing up his traps. that same day he hired out to a mormon train, and bidding us all good-bye started for salt lake, driving six yokes of oxen. chapter iii. boy days in kansas. during the summer of 1853 we lived in our little log house, and father continued to trade with the indians, who became very friendly; hardly a day passed without a social visit from them. i spent a great deal of time with the indian boys, who taught me how to shoot with the bow and arrow, at which i became quite expert. i also took part in all their sports, and learned to talk the kickapoo language to some extent. father desired to express his friendship for these indians, and accordingly arranged a grand barbecue for them. he invited them all to be present on a certain day, which they were; he then presented them with two fat beeves, to be killed and cooked in the various indian styles. mother made several large boilers full of coffee, which she gave to them, together with sugar and bread. there were about two hundred indians in attendance at the feast, and they all enjoyed and appreciated it. in the evening they had one of their grand fantastic war dances, which greatly amused me, it being the first sight of the kind i had ever witnessed. my uncle elijah and quite a large number of gentlemen and ladies came over from weston to attend the entertainment. the indians returned to their homes well satisfied. my uncle at that time owned a trading post at silver lake, in the pottawattamie country, on the kansas river, and he arranged an excursion to that place. among the party were several ladies from weston, and father, mother and myself. mr. mcmeekan, my uncle's superintendent, who had come to weston for supplies, conducted the party to the post. the trip across the prairies was a delightful one, and we remained at the post several days. father and one or two of the men went on to fort riley to view the country, and upon their return my uncle entertained the pottawattamie indians with a barbecue similar to the one given by father to the kickapoos. during the latter part of the summer father filled a hay contract at fort leavenworth. i passed much of my time among the campers, and spent days and days in riding over the country with mr. william russell, who was engaged in the freighting business and who seemed to take a considerable interest in me. in this way i became acquainted with many wagon-masters, hunters and teamsters, and learned a great deal about the business of handling cattle and mules. it was an excellent school for me, and i acquired a great deal of practical knowledge, which afterwards i found to be of invaluable service, for it was not long before i became employed by majors & russell, remaining with them in different capacities, for several years. the winter of 1853-54 was spent by father at our little prairie home in cutting house logs and fence rails, which he intended to use on his farm, as soon as the bill for the opening of the territory for settlement should pass. this bill, which was called the "enabling act of kansas territory," was passed in april, 1854, and father immediately pre-empted the claim on which we were living. the summer of that year was an exciting period in the history of the new territory. thousands and thousands of people, seeking new homes, flocked thither, a large number of the emigrants coming over from adjoining states. the missourians, some of them, would come laden with bottles of whisky, and after drinking the liquor would drive the bottles into the ground to mark their land claims, not waiting to put up any buildings. the missourians, mostly, were pro-slavery men, and held enthusiastic meetings at which they expressed their desire that kansas should be a slave state and did not hesitate to declare their determination to make it so. rively's store was the headquarters for these men, and there they held their meetings. [illustration: staking out lots.] at first they thought father would coincide with them on account of his brother elijah being a missourian, but in this they were greatly mistaken. at one of their gatherings, when there were about one hundred of the reckless men present, my father, who happened also to be there, was called upon for a speech. after considerable urging, he mounted the box and began speaking, as nearly as i can recollect, as follows: "gentlemen and fellow-citizens: you have called upon me for a speech, and i have accepted your invitation rather against my will, as my views may not accord with the sentiments of the rest of this assembly. my remarks, at this time, will be brief and to the point. the question before us to-day is, shall the territory of kansas be a free or a slave state. the question of slavery in itself is a broad one, and one which i do not care at this time and place to discuss at length. i apprehend that your motive in calling upon me is to have me express my sentiments in regard to the introduction of slavery into kansas. i shall gratify your wishes in that respect. i was one of the pioneers of the state of iowa, and aided in its settlement when it was a territory, and helped to organize it as a state. "gentlemen, i voted that it should be a _white_ state--that negroes, whether free or slave, should never be allowed to locate within its limits; and, gentlemen, i say to you now, and i say it boldly, that i propose to exert all my power in making kansas the same kind of a state as iowa. i believe in letting slavery remain as it now exists, and i shall always oppose its further extension. these are my sentiments, gentlemen and let me tell you--" he never finished this sentence, or his speech. his expressions were anything but acceptable to the rough-looking crowd, whose ire had been gradually rising to fever heat, and at this point they hooted and hissed him, and shouted, "you black abolitionist, shut up!" "get down from that box!" "kill him!" "shoot him!" and so on. father, however, maintained his position on the dry-goods box, notwithstanding the excitement and the numerous invitations to step down, until a hot-headed pro-slavery man, who was in the employ of my uncle elijah, crowded up and said: "get off that box, you black abolitionist, or i'll pull you off." father paid but little attention to him, and attempted to resume his speech, intending doubtless to explain his position and endeavor to somewhat pacify the angry crowd. but the fellow jumped up on the box, and pulling out a huge bowie knife, stabbed father twice, who reeled and fell to the ground. the man sprang after him, and would have ended his life then and there, had not some of the better men in the crowd interfered in time to prevent him from carrying out his murderous intention. the excitement was intense, and another assault would probably have been made on my father, had not rively hurriedly carried him to his home. there was no doctor within any reasonable distance, and father at once requested that he be conveyed in the carriage to his brother elijah's house in weston. my mother and a driver accordingly went there with him, where his wounds were dressed. he remained in weston several weeks before he was able to stir about again, but he never fully recovered from the wounds, which eventually proved the cause of his death. [illustration: my father stabbed] my uncle of course at once discharged the ruffian from his employ. the man afterwards became a noted desperado, and was quite conspicuous in the kansas war. my father's indiscreet speech at rively's brought upon our family all of the misfortunes and difficulties which from that time on befell us. as soon as he was able to attend to his business again, the missourians began to harass him in every possible way, and kept it up with hardly a moment's cessation. kickapoo city, as it was called, a small town that had sprung into existence seven miles up the river from fort leavenworth, became the hot-bed of the pro-slavery doctrine and the headquarters of its advocates. here was really the beginning of the kansas troubles. my father, who had shed the first blood in the cause of the freedom of kansas, was notified, upon his return to his trading post, to leave the territory, and he was threatened with death by hanging or shooting, if he dared to remain. [illustration: my father's escape] one night a body of armed men, mounted on horses, rode up to our house and surrounded it. knowing what they had come for, and seeing that there would be but little chance for him in an encounter with them, father determined to make his escape by a little stratagem. hastily disguising himself in mother's bonnet and shawl, he boldly walked out of the house and proceeded towards the corn-field. the darkness proved a great protection, as the horsemen, between whom he passed, were unable to detect him in his disguise; supposing him to be a woman, they neither halted him nor followed him, and he passed safely on into the corn-field, where he concealed himself. the horsemen soon dismounted and inquired for father; mother very truthfully told them that he was away. they were not satisfied with her statement, however, and they at once made a thorough search of the house. they raved and swore when they could not find him, and threatened him with death whenever they should catch him. i am sure if they had captured him that night, they would have killed him. they carried off nearly everything of value in the house and about the premises; then going to the pasture, they drove off all the horses; my pony prince afterward succeeding in breaking away from them and came back home. father lay secreted in the corn-field for three days, as there were men in the vicinity who were watching for him all the time; he finally made his escape, and reached fort leavenworth in safety, whither the pro-slavery men did not dare to follow him. while he was staying at fort leavenworth, he heard that jim lane, captain cleveland and captain chandler were on their way from indiana to kansas with a body of free state men, between two and three hundred strong. they were to cross the missouri river near doniphan, between leavenworth and nebraska city; their destination being lawrence. father determined to join them, and took passage on a steamboat which was going up the river. having reached the place of crossing, he made himself known to the leaders of the party, by whom he was most cordially received. the pro-slavery men, hearing of the approach of the free state party, resolved to drive them out of the territory. the two parties met at hickory point, where a severe battle was fought, several being killed; the victory resulted in favor of the free state men, who passed on to lawrence without much further opposition. my father finally left them, and seeing that he could no longer live at home, went to grasshopper falls, thirty-five miles west of leavenworth; there he began the erection of a saw-mill. while he was thus engaged we learned from one of our hired workmen at home, that the pro-slavery men had laid another plan to kill him, and were on their way to grasshopper falls to carry out their intention. mother at once started me off on prince to warn father of the coming danger. when i had gone about seven miles i suddenly came upon a party of men, who were camped at the crossing of stranger creek. as i passed along i heard one of them, who recognized me, say, "that's the son of the old abolitionist we are after;" and the next moment i was commanded to halt. [illustration: life or death.] instead of stopping i instantly started my pony on a run, and on looking back i saw that i was being pursued by three or four of the party, who had mounted their horses, no doubt supposing that they could easily capture me. it was very fortunate that i had heard the remark about my being "the son of the abolitionist," for then i knew in an instant that they were _en route_ to grasshopper falls to murder my father. i at once saw the importance of my escaping and warning father in time. it was a matter of life or death to him. so i urged prince to his utmost speed, feeling that upon him and myself depended a human life--a life that was dearer to me than that of any other man in the world. i led my pursuers a lively chase for four or five miles; finally, when they saw they could not catch me, they returned to their camp. i kept straight on to grasshopper falls, arriving there in ample time to inform him of the approach of his old enemies. that same night father and i rode to lawrence, which had become the headquarters of the free state men. there he met jim lane and several other leading characters, who were then organizing what was known as the lecompton legislature. father was elected as a member of that body, and took an active part in organizing the first legislature of kansas, under governor reeder, who, by the way, was a free state man and a great friend of father's. about this time agents were being sent to the east to induce emigrants to locate in kansas, and father was sent as one of these agents to ohio. after the legislature had been organized at lawrence, he departed for ohio and was absent several months. a few days after he had gone, i started for home by the way of fort leavenworth, accompanied by two men, who were going to the fort on business. as we were crossing a stream called little stranger, we were fired upon by some unknown party; one of my companions, whose name has escaped my memory, was killed. the other man and myself put spurs to our horses and made a dash for our lives. we succeeded in making our escape, though a farewell shot or two was sent after us. at fort leavenworth i parted company with my companion, and reached home without any further adventure. my mother and sisters, who had not heard of my father or myself since i had been sent to warn him of his danger, had become very anxious and uneasy about us, and were uncertain as to whether we were dead or alive. i received a warm welcome home, and as i entered the house, mother seemed to read from the expression of my countenance that father was safe; of course the very first question she asked was as to his whereabouts, and in reply i handed her a long letter from him which explained everything. mother blessed me again and again for having saved his life. while father was absent in ohio, we were almost daily visited by some of the pro-slavery men, who helped themselves to anything they saw fit, and frequently compelled my mother and sisters to cook for them, and to otherwise submit to a great deal of bad treatment. hardly a day passed without some of them inquiring "where the old man was," saying they would kill him on sight. thus we passed the summer of 1854, remaining at our home notwithstanding the unpleasant surroundings, as mother had made up her mind not to be driven out of the country. my uncle and other friends advised her to leave kansas and move to missouri, because they did not consider our lives safe, as we lived so near the headquarters of the pro-slavery men, who had sworn vengeance upon father. nothing, however, could persuade mother to change her determination. she said that the pro-slavery men had taken everything except the land and the little home, and she proposed to remain there as long as she lived, happen what might. our only friends in salt creek valley were two families; one named lawrence, the other hathaway, and the peaceable indians, who occasionally visited us. my uncle, living in missouri and being somewhat in fear of the pro-slavery men, could not assist us much, beyond expressing his sympathy and sending us provisions. in the winter of 1854-55 father returned from ohio, but as soon as his old enemies learned that he was with us, they again compelled him to leave. he proceeded to lawrence, and there spent the winter in attending the lecompton legislature. the remainder of the year he passed mostly at grasshopper falls, where he completed his saw-mill. he occasionally visited home under cover of the night, and in the most secret manner; virtually carrying his life in his hand. in the spring of this year (1855) a pro-slavery party came to our house to search for father; not finding him, they departed, taking with them my pony, prince. i shall never forget the man who stole that pony. he afterwards rose from the low level of a horse thief to the high dignity of a justice of the peace, and i think still lives at kickapoo. the loss of my faithful pony nearly broke my heart and bankrupted me in business, as i had nothing to ride. one day, soon afterwards, i met my old friend, mr. russell, to whom i related all my troubles, and his generous heart was touched by my story. "billy, my boy," said he, "cheer up, and come to leavenworth, and i'll employ you. i'll give you twenty-five dollars a month to herd cattle." i accepted the offer, and heartily thanking him, hurried home to obtain mother's consent. she refused to let me go, and all my pleading was in vain. young as i was--being then only in my tenth year, my ideas and knowledge of the world, however, being far in advance of my age--i determined to run away from home. mr. russell's offer of twenty-five dollars a month was a temptation which i could not resist. the remuneration for my services seemed very large to me, and i accordingly stole away and walked to leavenworth. mr. badger, one of mr. russell's superintendents, immediately sent me out, mounted on a little gray mule, to herd cattle. i worked at this for two months, and then came into leavenworth. i had not been home during all this time, but mother had learned from mr. russell where i was, and she no longer felt uneasy, as he had advised her to let me remain in his employ. he assured her that i was all right, and said that when the herd came in he would allow me to make a visit home. upon my arrival in leavenworth with the herd of cattle, mr. russell instructed his book-keeper, mr. byers, to pay me my wages, amounting to fifty dollars. byers gave me the sum all in half-dollar pieces. i put the bright silver coins into a sack, which i tied to my mule, and started home, thinking myself a _millionaire_. this money i gave to mother, who had already forgiven me for running away. thus began my service for the firm of russell & majors, afterwards russell, majors & waddell, with whom i spent seven years of my life in different capacities--such as cavallard-driver, wagon-master, pony express rider and driver. i continued to work for mr. russell during the rest of the summer of 1855, and in the winter of 1855-56 i attended school. father, who still continued to secretly visit home, was anxious to have his children receive as much of an education as possible, under the adverse circumstances surrounding us, and he employed a teacher, miss jennie lyons, to come to our house and teach. my mother was well educated--more so than my father--and it used to worry her a great deal because her children could not receive better educational advantages. however, the little school at home got along exceedingly well, and we all made rapid advances in our studies, as miss lyons was an excellent teacher. she afterwards married a gentleman named hook, who became the first mayor of cheyenne, where she now lives. the kansas troubles reached their highest pitch in the spring of 1856, and our family continued to be harassed as much as ever by our old enemies. i cannot now recollect one-half of the serious difficulties that we had to encounter; but i very distinctly remember one incident well worth relating. i came home one night on a visit from leavenworth, being accompanied by a fellow-herder--a young man. during the night we heard a noise outside of the house, and soon the dogs began barking loudly. we looked out to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, and saw that the house was surrounded by a party of men. mother had become accustomed to such occurrences, and on this occasion she seemed to be master of the situation from the start. opening a window, she coolly sang out, in a firm tone of voice: "who are you? what do you want here?" "we are after that old abolition husband of yours," was the answer from one of the crowd. "he is not in this house, and has not been here for a long time," said my mother. "that's a lie! we know he is in the house, and we are bound to have him," said the spokesman of the party. i afterwards learned they had mistaken the herder, who had ridden home with me, for my father for whom they had been watching. "my husband is not at home," emphatically repeated my heroic mother--for if there ever was a heroine she certainly was one--"but the house is full of armed men," continued she, "and i'll give you just two minutes to get out of the yard; if you are not out by the end of that time i shall order them to fire on you." she withdrew from the window for a few moments and hurriedly instructed the herder to call aloud certain names--any that he might think of--just as if the house was full of men to whom he was giving orders. he followed her directions to the very letter. he could not have done it any better had he rehearsed the act a dozen times. the party outside heard him, as it was intended they should, and they supposed that my mother really had quite a force at her command. while this little by play was being enacted, she stepped to the open window again and said: "john green, you and your friends had better go away or the men will surely fire on you." at this, point the herder, myself and my sisters commenced stamping on the floor in imitation of a squad of soldiers, and the herder issued his orders in a loud voice to his imaginary troops, who were apparently approaching the window preparatory to firing a volley at the enemy. this little stratagem proved eminently successful. the cowardly villains began retreating, and then my mother fired an old gun into the air which greatly accelerated their speed, causing them to break and run. they soon disappeared from view in the darkness. the next morning we accidentally discovered that they had intended to blow up the house. upon going into the cellar which had been left open on one side, we found two kegs of powder together with a fuse secreted there. it only required a lighted match to have sent us into eternity. my mother's presence of mind, which had never yet deserted her in any trying situation, had saved our lives. shortly after this affair, i came home again on a visit and found father there sick with fever, and confined to his bed. one day my old enemy rode up to the house on my pony prince, which he had stolen from me. "what is your business here to-day?" asked mother. "i am looking for the old man," he replied. "i am going to search the house, and if i find him i am going to kill him. here, you girls," said he, addressing my sisters, "get me some dinner, and get it quick, too, for i am as hungry as a wolf." "very well; pray be seated, and we'll get you something to eat," said one of my sisters, without exhibiting the least sign of fear. he sat down, and while they were preparing a dinner for him, he took out a big knife and sharpened it on a whetstone, repeating his threat of searching the house and killing my father. i had witnessed the whole proceeding, and heard the threats, and i determined that the man should never go up stairs where father was lying in bed, unable to rise. taking a double-barreled pistol which i had recently bought, i went to the head of the stairs, cocked the weapon, and waited for the ruffian to come up, determined, that the moment he set foot on the steps i would kill him. i was relieved, however, from the stern necessity, as he did not make his appearance. the brute was considerably intoxicated when he came to the house, and the longer he sat still the more his brain became muddled with liquor, and he actually forgot what he had come there for. after he had eaten his dinner, he mounted his horse and rode off, and it was a fortunate thing for him that he did. father soon recovered and returned to grasshopper falls, while i resumed my cattle herding. chapter iv. youthful experiences. in july, 1856, the people living in the vicinity of our home--feeling the necessity of more extensive educational facilities for their children than they had yet had--started a subscription school in a little log cabin on the bank of the creek, which for a while proved quite a success. my mother being very anxious to have me attend this school, i acceded to her oft-repeated wishes, and returning home, i became a pupil of the institution. i made considerable progress in my studies--such as they were--and was getting along very well in every other respect, until i became involved in my first love affair. like all school-boys, i had a sweetheart with whom i was "dead in love"--in a juvenile way. her name was mary hyatt. of course i had a rival, stephen gobel, a boy about three years my senior--the "bully" of the school. he was terribly jealous, and sought in every way to revenge himself upon me for having won the childish affections of sweet little mary. the boys of the school used to build play-houses or arbors among the trees and bushes for their sweethearts. i had built a play-house for mary, when steve, as we called him, leveled it to the ground. we immediately had a very lively fight, in which i got badly beaten. the teacher heard of our quarrel and whipped us both. this made matters worse than ever, as i had received two thrashings to steve's one; i smothered my angry feelings as much as possible under the humiliating circumstances, and during the afternoon recess built another play-house, thinking that gobel would not dare to destroy a second one; but i was mistaken, for he pushed the whole structure over at the first opportunity. i came up to him just as he finished the job, and said: "steve gobel, the next time you do that, i'll hurt you." and i meant it, too; but he laughed and called me names. [illustration: two to one.] at recess, next morning, i began the construction of still another playhouse, and when i had it about two-thirds finished, steve slyly sneaked up to the spot and tipped the whole thing over. i jumped for him with the quickness of a cat, and clutching him by the throat for a moment i had the advantage of him. but he was too strong for me, and soon had me on the ground and was beating me severely. while away from home i had someway come into possession of a very small pocket dagger, which i had carried about with me in its sheath, using it in place of a knife. during the struggle this fell from my pocket, and my hand by accident rested upon it as it lay upon the ground. exasperated beyond measure at steve's persistence in destroying my play-houses, and smarting under his blows, i forgot myself for the moment, grasped the dagger and unthinkingly thrust it into steve's thigh. had it been larger it would probably have injured him severely; as it was, it made a small wound, sufficient to cause the blood to flow freely and steve to cry out in affright: "i am killed! o, i am killed!" the school children all rushed to the spot and were terrified at the scene. "what's the matter?" asked one. "bill cody has killed steve gobel," replied another. the uproar reached the teacher's ear, and i now saw him approaching, with vengeance in his eye and a big club in his hand. i knew that he was coming to interview _me_. i was dreadfully frightened at what i had done, and undecided whether to run away or to remain and take the consequences; but the sight of that flag-staff in the school teacher's hand was too much for me. i no longer hesitated, but started off like a deer. the teacher followed in hot pursuit, but soon became convinced that he could not catch me, and gave up the chase. i kept on running, until i reached one of russell, major & waddell's freight trains which i had noticed going over the hill for the west. fortunately for me i knew the wagon-master, john willis, and as soon as i recovered my breath i told him what had happened. "served him right, billy," said he, "and what's more, we'll go over and clean out the teacher." "oh, no; don't do that," said i, for i was afraid that i might fall into the hands of the wounded boy's friends, who i knew would soon be looking for me. "well, billy, come along with me; i am bound for fort kearney; the trip will take me forty days. i want you for a cavallard driver." "all right," i replied, "but i must go home and tell mother about it, and get some clothes." "well then, to-night after we make our camp, i'll go back with you." the affray broke up the school for the rest of the day as the excitement was too much for the children. late in the afternoon, after the train had moved on some considerable distance, i saw steve's father, his brother frank, and one of the neighbors rapidly approaching. "mr. willis, there comes old gobel, with frank and somebody else, and they are after me--what am i going to do?" i asked. "let 'em come," said he, "they can't take you if i've got anything to say about it, and i rather think i have. get into one of the wagons--keep quiet and lay low. i'll manage this little job. don't you fret a bit about it." i obeyed his orders and felt much easier. old gobel, frank and the neighbor soon came up and inquired for me. "he's around here somewhere," said mr. willis. "we want him," said gobel; "he stabbed my son a little while ago, and i want to arrest him." "well, you can't get him; that settles it; so you needn't waste any of your time around here," said willis. gobel continued to talk for a few minutes, but getting no greater satisfaction, the trio returned home. when night came, willis accompanied me on horseback to my home. mother, who had anxiously searched for me everywhere--being afraid that something had befallen me at the hands of the gobels--was delighted to see me, notwithstanding the difficulty in which i had become involved. i at once told her that at present i was afraid to remain at home, and had accordingly made up my mind to absent myself for a few weeks or months--at least until the excitement should die out. mr. willis said to her that he would take me to fort kearney with him, and see that i was properly cared for, and would bring me back safely in forty days. mother at first seriously objected to my going on this trip fearing i would fall into the hands of indians. her fears, however, were soon overcome, and she concluded to let me go. she fixed me up a big bundle of clothing and gave me a quilt. kissing her and my sisters a fond farewell, i started off on my first trip across the plains, and with a light heart too, notwithstanding my trouble of a few hours before. the trip proved a most enjoyable one to me, although no incidents worthy of note occurred on the way. on my return from fort kearney i was paid off the same as the rest of the employees. the remainder of the summer and fall i spent in herding cattle and working for russell, majors & waddell. i finally ventured home--not without some fear, however, of the gobel family--and was delighted to learn that during my absence mother had had an interview with mr. gobel, and having settled the difficulty with him, the two families had become friends again, and i may state, incidentally, that they ever after remained so. i have since often met stephen gobel, and we have had many a laugh together over our love affair and the affray at the school-house. mary hyatt, the innocent cause of the whole difficulty, is now married and living in chicago. thus ended my first love scrape. in the winter of 1856-57 my father, in company with a man named j.c. boles, went to cleveland, ohio, and organized a colony of about thirty families, whom they brought to kansas and located on the grasshopper. several of these families still reside there. it was during this winter that father, after his return from cleveland, caught a severe cold. this, in connection with the wound he had received at rively's--from which he had never entirely recovered--affected him seriously, and in april, 1857, he died at home from kidney disease. this sad event left my mother and the family in poor circumstances, and i determined to follow the plains for a livelihood for them and myself. i had no difficulty in obtaining work under my old employers, and in may, 1857, i started for salt lake city with a herd of beef cattle, in charge of frank and bill mccarthy, for general albert sidney johnson's army, which was then being sent across the plains to fight the mormons. nothing occurred to interrupt our journey until we reached plum creek, on the south platte river, thirty-five miles west of old fort kearney. we had made a morning drive and had camped for dinner. the wagon-masters and a majority of the men had gone to sleep under the mess wagons; the cattle were being guarded by three men, and the cook was preparing dinner. no one had any idea that indians were anywhere near us. the first warning we had that they were infesting that part of the country was the firing of shots and the whoops and yells from a party of them, who, catching us napping, gave us a most unwelcome surprise. all the men jumped to their feet and seized their guns. they saw with astonishment the cattle running in every direction, they having been stampeded by the indians, who had shot and killed the three men who were on day-herd duty, and the red devils were now charging down upon the rest of us. i then thought of mother's fears of my falling into the hands of the indians, and i had about made up my mind that such was to be my fate; but when i saw how coolly and determinedly the mccarthy brothers were conducting themselves and giving orders to the little band, i became convinced that we would "stand the indians off," as the saying is. our men were all well armed with colt's revolvers and mississippi yagers, which last, carried a bullet, and two buckshots. the mccarthy boys, at the proper moment, gave orders to fire upon the advancing enemy. the volley checked them, although they returned the compliment, and shot one of our party through the leg. frank mccarthy then sang out, "boys, make a break for the slough yonder, and we can then have the bank for a breast-work." [illustration: killing my first indian.] we made a run for the slough which was only a short distance off, and succeeded in safely reaching it, bringing with us the wounded man. the bank proved to be a very effective breast-work, affording us good protection. we had been there but a short time when frank mccarthy, seeing that the longer we were corraled the worse it would be for us, said: "well, boys, we'll try to make our way back to fort kearney by wading in the river and keeping the bank for a breast-work." we all agreed that this was the best plan, and we accordingly proceeded down the river several miles in this way, managing to keep the indians at a safe distance with our guns, until the slough made a junction with the main platte river. from there down we found the river at times quite deep, and in order to carry the wounded man along with us we constructed a raft of poles for his accommodation, and in this way he was transported. occasionally the water would be too deep for us to wade, and we were obliged to put our weapons on the raft and swim. the indians followed us pretty close, and were continually watching for an opportunity to get a good range and give us a raking fire. covering ourselves by keeping well under the bank, we pushed ahead as rapidly as possible, and made pretty good progress, the night finding us still on the way and our enemies still on our track. i being the youngest and smallest of the party, became somewhat tired, and without noticing it i had fallen behind the others for some little distance. it was about ten o'clock and we were keeping very quiet and hugging close to the bank, when i happened to look up to the moon-lit sky and saw the plumed head of an indian peeping over the bank. instead of hurrying ahead and alarming the men in a quiet way, i instantly aimed my gun at the head and fired. the report rang out sharp and loud on the night air, and was immediately followed by an indian whoop, and the next moment about six feet of dead indian came tumbling into the river. i was not only overcome with astonishment, but was badly scared, as i could hardly realize what i had done. i expected to see the whole force of indians come down upon us. while i was standing thus bewildered, the men, who had heard the shot and the war-whoop and had seen the indian take a tumble, came rushing back. "who fired that shot?" cried frank mccarthy. "i did," replied i, rather proudly, as my confidence returned and i saw the men coming up. "yes, and little billy has killed an indian stone-dead--too dead to skin," said one of the men, who had approached nearer than the rest, and had almost stumbled upon the corpse. from that time forward i became a hero and an indian killer. this was, of course, the first indian i had ever shot, and as i was not then more than eleven years of age, my exploit created quite a sensation. the other indians, upon learning what had happened to their "advance guard," set up a terrible howling, and fired several volleys at us, but without doing any injury, as we were so well protected by the bank. we resumed our journey down the river, and traveled all night long. just before daylight, frank mccarthy crawled out over the bank and discovered that we were only five miles from fort kearney, which post we reached in safety in about two hours,--shortly after _reveille_--bringing the wounded man with us. it was indeed a relief to us all to feel that once more we were safe. frank mccarthy immediately reported to the commanding officer and informed him of all that had happened. the commandant at once ordered a company of cavalry and one of infantry to proceed to plum creek on a forced march--taking a howitzer with them--to endeavor to recapture the cattle from the indians. the firm of russell, majors & waddell had a division agent at kearney, and this agent mounted us on mules so that we could accompany the troops. on reaching the place where the indians had surprised us, we found the bodies of the three men whom they had killed and scalped, and literally cut into pieces. we of course buried the remains. we caught but few of the cattle; the most of them having been driven off and stampeded with the buffaloes, there being numerous immense herds of the latter in that section of the country at that time. the indian's trail was discovered running south towards the republican river, and the troops followed it to the head of plum creek, and there abandoned it, returning to fort kearney without having seen a single red-skin. the company's agent, seeing that there was no further use for us in that vicinity--as we had lost our cattle and mules--sent us back to fort leavenworth. the company, it is proper to state, did not have to stand the loss of the expedition, as the government held itself responsible for such depredations by the indians. on the day that i got into leavenworth, sometime in july, i was interviewed for the first time in my life by a newspaper reporter, and the next morning i found my name in print as "the youngest indian slayer on the plains." i am candid enough to admit that i felt very much elated over this notoriety. again and again i read with eager interest the long and sensational account of our adventure. my exploit was related in a very graphic manner, and for a long time afterwards i was considerable of a hero. the reporter who had thus set me up, as i then thought, on the highest pinnacle of fame, was john hutchinson, and i felt very grateful to him. he now lives in wichita, kansas. chapter v. in business. in the summer of 1857, russell, majors & waddell were sending a great many trains across the plains to salt lake with supplies for general johnston's army. men were in great demand, and the company was paying teamsters forty dollars per month in gold. an old and reliable wagon-master, named lewis simpson--who had taken a great fancy to me, and who, by the way, was one of the best wagon-masters that ever ran a bull train--was loading a train for the company, and was about to start out with it for salt lake. he asked me to go along as an "extra hand." the high wages that were being paid were a great inducement to me, and the position of an "extra hand" was a pleasant one. all that i would have to do would be to take the place of any man who became sick, and drive his wagon until he recovered. i would have my own mule to ride, and to a certain extent i would be a minor boss. my mother was very much opposed to my taking this long trip, as i would be absent nearly a year, and there was a possibility that something might arise to prevent me from ever coming back, as we could not often tell how the mormon difficulty would terminate. then again, owing to the indians, a journey over the plains in those days was a perilous undertaking. she said that as i had recently returned from the plains, and had had a narrow escape from death at the hands of the indians, she did not want me to risk my life a second time. i told her that inasmuch as i had determined to follow the plains for an occupation, nothing could now stop me from going on this trip, and if it became necessary i would run away. seeing that it was impossible to keep me at home, she reluctantly gave her consent, but not until she had called upon mr. russell and mr. simpson in regard to the matter, and had obtained from the latter gentleman his promise that i should be well taken care of, if we had to winter in the mountains. she did not like the appearance of simpson, and upon inquiry she learned, to her dismay, that he was a desperate character, and that on nearly every trip he had made across the plains he had killed some one. such a man, she thought, was not a fit master or companion for her son, and she was very anxious to have me go with some other wagon-master; but i still insisted upon remaining with simpson. "madam, i can assure you that lew. simpson is one of the most reliable wagon-masters on the plains," said mr. russell, "and he has taken a great fancy to billy. if your boy is bound to go, he can go with no better man. no one will dare to impose on him while he is with lew. simpson, whom i will instruct to take good care of the boy. upon reaching fort laramie, billy can, if he wishes, exchange places with some fresh man coming back on a returning train, and thus come home without making the whole trip." this seemed to satisfy mother, and then she had a long talk with simpson himself, imploring him not to forget his promise to take good care of her precious boy. he promised everything that she asked. thus, after much trouble, i became one of the members of simpson's train. before taking our departure, i arranged with russell, majors & waddell that when my pay should fall due it should be paid over to mother. as a matter of interest to the general reader, it may be well in this connection to give a brief description of a freight train. the wagons used in those days by russell, majors & waddell were known as the "j. murphy wagons," made at st. louis specially for the plains business. they were very large and were strongly built, being capable of carrying seven thousand pounds of freight each. the wagon-boxes were very commodious--being as large as the rooms of an ordinary house--and were covered with two heavy canvas sheets to protect the merchandise from the rain. these wagons were generally sent out from leavenworth, each loaded with six thousand pounds of freight, and each drawn by several yokes of oxen in charge of one driver. a train consisted of twenty-five wagons, all in charge of one man, who was known as the wagon-master. the second man in command was the assistant wagon-master; then came the "extra hand," next the night herder; and lastly, the cavallard driver, whose duty it was to drive the lame and loose cattle. there were thirty-one men all told in a train. the men did their own cooking, being divided into messes of seven. one man cooked, another brought wood and water, another stood guard, and so on, each having some duty to perform while getting meals. all were heavily armed with colt's pistols and mississippi yagers, and every one always had his weapons handy so as to be prepared for any emergency. the wagon-master, in the language of the plains, was called the "bull-wagon boss"; the teamsters were known as "bull-whackers"; and the whole train was denominated a "bull-outfit." everything at that time was called an "outfit." the men of the plains were always full of droll humor and exciting stories of their own experiences, and many an hour i spent in listening to the recitals of thrilling adventures and hair-breadth escapes. russell, majors & waddell had in their employ two hundred and fifty trains, composed of 6,250 wagons, 75,000 oxen, and about eight thousand men; their business reaching to all the government frontier posts in the north and west, to which they transported supplies, and they also carried freight as far south as new mexico. [illustration: a prairie schooner.] the trail to salt lake ran through kansas to the northwest, crossing the big blue river, then over the big and little sandy, coming into nebraska near the big sandy. the next stream of any importance was the little blue, along which the trail ran for sixty miles; then crossed a range of sand-hills and struck the platte river ten miles below old fort kearney; thence the course lay up the south platte to the old ash hollow crossing, thence eighteen miles across to the north platte--near the mouth of the blue water, where general harney had his great battle in 1855 with the sioux and cheyenne indians. from this point the north platte was followed, passing court house rock, chimney rock and scott's bluffs, and then on to fort laramie, where the laramie river was crossed. still following the north platte for some considerable distance, the trail crossed this river at old richard's bridge, and followed it up to the celebrated red buttes--crossing the willow creeks to the sweet water, passing the great independence rock and the devil's gate, up to the three crossings of the sweet water, thence past the cold springs, where, three feet under the sod, on the hottest day of summer, ice can be found; thence to the hot springs and the rocky ridge, and through the rocky mountains and echo caã±on, and thence on to the great salt lake valley. we had started on our trip with everything in good shape, following the above described trail. during the first week or two out, i became well acquainted with most of the train men, and with one in particular, who became a life-long and intimate friend of mine. his real name was james b. hickok; he afterwards became famous as "wild bill, the scout of the plains"--though why he was so called i never could ascertain--and from this time forward i shall refer to him by his popular nickname. he was ten years my senior--a tall, handsome, magnificently built and powerful young fellow, who could out-run, out-jump and out-fight any man in the train. he was generally admitted to be the best man physically, in the employ of russell, majors & waddell; and of his bravery there was not a doubt. general custer, in his "life on the plains," thus speaks of wild bill: * * * * * "among the white scouts were numbered some of the most noted of their class. the most prominent man among them was 'wild bill,' whose highly varied career was made the subject of an illustrated sketch in one of the popular monthly periodicals a few years ago. 'wild bill' was a strange character, just the one which a novelist might gloat over. he was a plains-man in every sense of the word, yet unlike any other of his class. in person he was about six feet and one inch in height, straight as the straightest of the warriors whose implacable foe he was. he had broad shoulders, well-formed chest and limbs, and a face strikingly handsome; a sharp, clear blue eye, which stared you straight in the face when in conversation; a finely shaped nose, inclined to be aquiline; a well-turned mouth, with lips only partially concealed by a handsome moustache. his hair and complexion were those of the perfect blonde. the former was worn in uncut ringlets, falling carelessly over his powerfully formed shoulders. add to this figure a costume blending the immaculate neatness of the dandy with the extravagant taste and style of the frontiersman, and you have wild bill.... whether on foot or on horseback, he was one of the most perfect types of physical manhood i ever saw. "of his courage there could be no question; it had been brought to the test on too many occasions to admit of a doubt. his skill in the use of the pistol and rifle was unerring; while his deportment was exactly the opposite of what might be expected from a man of his surroundings. it was entirely free from all bluster or bravado. he seldom spoke himself unless requested to do so. his conversation, strange to say, never bordered either on the vulgar or blasphemous. his influence among the frontiersmen was unbounded, his word was law; and many are the personal quarrels and disturbances which he has checked among his comrades by his simple announcement that 'this has gone far enough,'--if need be followed by the ominous warning that when persisted in or renewed the quarreler 'must settle it with me.' "wild bill was anything but a quarrelsome man; yet no one but him could enumerate the many conflicts in which he had been engaged, and which had almost always resulted in the death of his adversary. i have a personal knowledge of at least half a dozen men whom he had at various times killed, one of these being at the time a member of my command. others had been severely wounded, yet he always escaped unhurt. "on the plains every man openly carries his belt with its invariable appendages, knife and revolver--often two of the latter. wild bill always carried two handsome ivory-handled revolvers of the large size; he was never seen without them.... yet in all the many affairs of this kind in which wild bill has performed a part, and which have come to my knowledge, there was not a single instance in which the verdict of twelve fair-minded men would not have been pronounced in his favor." * * * * * [illustration: wild bill.] such is the faithful picture of wild bill as drawn by general custer, who was a close observer and student of personal character, and under whom wild bill served as a scout. the circumstances under which i first made his acquaintance and learned to know him well and to appreciate his manly character and kind-heartedness, were these. one of the teamsters in lew. simpson's train was a surly, overbearing fellow, and took particular delight in bullying and tyrannizing over me, and one day while we were at dinner he asked me to do something for him. i did not start at once, and he gave me a slap in the face with the back of his hand,--knocking me off an ox-yoke on which i was sitting, and sending me sprawling on the ground. jumping to my feet i picked up a camp kettle full of boiling coffee which was setting on the fire, and threw it at him. i hit him in the face, and the hot coffee gave him a severe scalding. he sprang for me with the ferocity of a tiger, and would undoubtedly have torn me to pieces, had it not been for the timely interference of my new-found friend, wild bill, who knocked the man down. as soon as he recovered himself, he demanded of wild bill what business it was of his that he should "put in his oar." "it's my business to protect that boy, or anybody else, from being unmercifully abused, kicked and cuffed, and i'll whip any man who tries it on," said wild bill; "and if you ever again lay a hand on that boy--little billy there--i'll give you such a pounding that you won't get over it for a month of sundays." from that time forward wild bill was my protector and intimate friend, and the friendship thus begun continued until his death. nothing transpired on the trip to delay or give us any trouble whatever, until the train struck the south platte river. one day we camped on the same ground where the indians had surprised the cattle herd, in charge of the mccarty brothers. it was with difficulty that we discovered any traces of anybody ever having camped there before, the only landmark being the single grave, now covered with grass, in which we had buried the three men who had been killed. the country was alive with buffaloes. vast herds of these monarchs of the plains were roaming all around us, and we laid over one day for a grand hunt. besides killing quite a number of buffaloes, and having a day of rare sport, we captured ten or twelve head of cattle, they being a portion of the herd which had been stampeded by the indians, two months before. the next day we pulled out of camp, and the train was strung out to a considerable length along the road which ran near the foot of the sand-hills, two miles from the river. between the road and the river we saw a large herd of buffaloes grazing quietly, they having been down to the stream for a drink. just at this time we observed a party of returning californians coming from the west. they, too, noticed the buffalo herd, and in another moment they were dashing down upon them, urging their steeds to the greatest speed. the buffalo herd stampeded at once, and broke for the hills; so hotly were they pursued by the hunters that about five hundred of them rushed through our train pell-mell, frightening both men and oxen. some of the wagons were turned clear round, and many of the terrified oxen attempted to run to the hills, with the heavy wagons attached to them. others turned around so short that they broke the wagon tongues off. nearly all the teams got entangled in their gearing, and became wild and unruly, so that the perplexed drivers were unable to manage them. the buffaloes, the cattle, and the drivers, were soon running in every direction, and the excitement upset nearly everybody and everything. many of the cattle broke their yokes and stampeded. one big buffalo bull became entangled in one of the heavy wagon-chains, and it is a fact that in his desperate efforts to free himself, he not only actually snapped the strong chain in two, but broke the ox-yoke to which it was attached, and the last seen of him he was running towards the hills with it hanging from his horns. a dozen other equally remarkable incidents happened during the short time that the frantic buffaloes were playing havoc with our train, and when they had got through and left us, our outfit was very badly crippled and scattered. this caused us to go into camp and spend a day in replacing the broken tongues, and repairing other damages, and gathering up our scattered ox-teams. the next day we rolled out of camp, and proceeded on our way towards the setting sun. everything ran along smoothly with us from that point until we came within about eighteen miles of green river, in the rocky mountains--where we camped at noon. at this place we had to drive our cattle about a mile and a half to a creek to water them. simpson, his assistant, george woods and myself, accompanied by the usual number of guards, drove the cattle over to the creek, and while on our way back to camp, we suddenly observed a party of twenty horsemen rapidly approaching us. we were not yet in view of our wagons, as a rise of ground intervened, and therefore we could not signal the train-men in case of any unexpected danger befalling us. we had no suspicion, however, that we were about to be trapped, as the strangers were white men. when they had come up to us, one of the party, who evidently was the leader, rode out in front and said: "how are you, mr. simpson?" "you've got the best of me, sir," said simpson, who did not know him. "well, i rather think i have," coolly replied the stranger, whose words conveyed a double meaning, as we soon learned. we had all come to a halt by this time, and the strange horsemen had surrounded us. they were all armed with double-barreled shot guns, rifles and revolvers. we also were armed with revolvers, but we had had no idea of danger, and these men, much to our surprise, had "got the drop" on us, and had covered us with their weapons, so that we were completely at their mercy. the whole movement of corraling us was done so quietly and quickly that it was accomplished before we knew it. "i'll trouble you for your six shooters, gentlemen," now said the leader. "i'll give 'em to you in a way you don't want," replied simpson. the next moment three guns were leveled at simpson. "if you make a move you're a dead man," said the leader. simpson saw that he was taken at a great disadvantage, and thinking it advisable not to risk the lives of the party by any rash act on his part, he said: "i see now that you have the best of me, but who are you, anyhow?" "i am joe smith," was the reply. "what! the leader of the danites?" asked simpson. "you are correct," said smith, for he it was. "yes," said simpson, "i know you now; you are a spying scoundrel." simpson had good reason for calling him this and applying to him a much more opprobrious epithet, for only a short time before this, joe smith had visited our train in the disguise of a teamster, and had remained with us two days. he suddenly disappeared, no one knowing where he had gone or why he had come among us. but it was all explained to us now that he had returned with his mormon danites. after they had disarmed us, simpson asked, "well, smith, what are you going to do with us?" "ride back with us and i'll soon show you," said smith. we had no idea of the surprise which awaited us. as we came upon the top of the ridge, from which we could view our camp, we were astonished to see the remainder of the train men disarmed and stationed in a group and surrounded by another squad of danites, while other mormons were searching our wagons for such articles as they wanted. "how is this?" inquired simpson. "how did you surprise my camp without a struggle? i can't understand it." "easily enough," said smith; "your men were all asleep under the wagons, except the cooks, who saw us coming and took us for returning californians or emigrants, and paid no attention to us until we rode up and surrounded your train. with our arms covering the men, we woke them up, and told them that all they had to do was to walk out and drop their pistols--which they saw was the best thing they could do under circumstances over which they had no control--and you can just bet they did it." "and what do you propose to do with us now?" asked simpson. "i intend to burn your train," said he; "you are loaded with supplies and ammunition for sidney johnson, and as i have no way to convey the stuff to my own people, i'll see that it does not reach the united states troops." "are you going to turn us adrift here?" asked simpson, who was anxious to learn what was to become of himself and his men. "no; i hardly am as bad as that. i'll give you enough provisions to last you until you can reach fort bridger," replied smith; "and as soon as your cooks can get the stuff out of the wagons, you can start." "on foot?" was the laconic inquiry of simpson. "yes sir," was the equally short reply. "smith, that's too rough on us men. put yourself in our place and see how you would like it," said simpson; "you can well afford to give us at least one wagon and six yokes of oxen to convey us and our clothing and provisions to fort bridger. you're a brute if you don't do this." "well," said smith, after consulting a minute or two with some of his company, "i'll do that much for you." the cattle and the wagon were brought up according to his orders, and the clothing and provisions were loaded on. "now you can go," said smith, after everything had been arranged. "joe smith, i think you are a mean coward to set us afloat in a hostile country, without giving us our arms," said simpson, who had once before asked for the weapons, and had had his request denied. smith, after further consultation with his comrades, said: "simpson, you are too brave a man to be turned adrift here without any means of defense. you shall have your revolvers and guns." our weapons were accordingly handed over to simpson, and we at once started for fort bridger, knowing that it would be useless to attempt the recapture of our train. when we had traveled about two miles we saw the smoke arising from our old camp. the mormons after taking what goods they wanted and could carry off, had set fire to the wagons, many of which were loaded with bacon, lard, hard-tack, and other provisions, which made a very hot, fierce fire, and the smoke to roll up in dense clouds. some of the wagons were loaded with ammunition, and it was not long before loud explosions followed in rapid succession. we waited and witnessed the burning of the train, and then pushed on to fort bridger. arriving at this post, we learned that two other trains had been captured and destroyed in the same way, by the mormons. this made seventy-five wagon loads, or 450,000 pounds of supplies, mostly provisions, which never reached general johnson's command, to which they had been consigned. chapter vi. hard times. as it was getting very late in the fall, we were compelled to winter at fort bridger; and a long, tedious winter it was. there were a great many troops there, and about four hundred of russell, majors & waddell's employees. these men were all organized into militia companies, which were officered by the wagon-masters. some lived in tents, others in cabins. it was known that our supplies would run short during the winter, and so all the men at the post were put on three-quarter rations to begin with; before long they were reduced to one-half rations, and finally to one-quarter rations. we were forced to kill our poor worn-out cattle for beef. they were actually so poor that we had to prop them up to shoot them down. at last we fell back on the mules, which were killed and served up in good style. many a poor, unsuspecting government mule passed in his chips that winter in order to keep the soldiers and bull-whackers from starvation. it was really a serious state of affairs. the wood for the post was obtained from the mountains, but having no longer any cattle or mules to transport it, the men were obliged to haul it themselves. long lariats were tied to the wagons, and twenty men manning each, they were pulled to and from the mountains. notwithstanding all these hardships, the men seemed to be contented and to enjoy themselves. the winter finally passed away, and early in the spring, as soon as we could travel, the civil employees of the government, with the teamsters and freighters, started for the missouri river; the johnson expedition having been abandoned. on the way down we stopped at fort laramie, and there met a supply train bound westward. of course we all had a square meal once more, consisting of hard tack, bacon, coffee and beans. i can honestly say that i thought it was the best meal i had ever eaten; at least i relished it more than any other, and i think the rest of the party did the same. on leaving fort laramie, simpson was made brigade wagon-master, and was put in charge of two large trains, with about four hundred extra men, who were bound for fort leavenworth. when we came to ash hollow, instead of taking the usual trail over to the south platte, simpson concluded to follow the north platte down to its junction with the south platte. the two trains were traveling about fifteen miles apart, when one morning while simpson was with the rear train, he told his assistant wagon-master, george woods and myself to saddle up our mules, as he wanted us to go with him and overtake the head train. we started off at about eleven o'clock, and had ridden about seven miles when--while we were on a big plateau, back of cedar bluffs--we suddenly discovered a band of indians coming out of the head of a ravine, half a mile distant, and charging down upon us at full speed. i thought that our end had come this time, sure. simpson, however, took in the situation in a moment, and knowing that it would be impossible to escape by running our played-out mules, he adopted a bolder and much better plan. he jumped from his own mule, and told us to dismount also. he then shot the three animals, and as they fell to the ground he cut their throats to stop their kicking. he then jerked them into the shape of a triangle, and ordered us inside of the barricade. all this was but the work of a few moments, yet it was not done any too soon, for the indians had got within three hundred yards of us, and were still advancing, and uttering their demoniacal yells or war-whoops. there were forty of the red-skins and only three of us. we were each armed with a mississippi yager and two colt's revolvers. "get ready for them with your guns, and when they come within fifty yards, aim low, blaze away and bring down your man!" such was the quick command of simpson. the words had hardly escaped from his mouth, when the three yagers almost simultaneously belched forth their contents. we then seized our revolvers and opened a lively fire on the enemy, at short range, which checked their advance. then we looked over our little barricade to ascertain what effect our fire had produced, and were much gratified at seeing three dead indians and one horse lying on the ground. only two or three of the indians, it seemed, had fire-arms. it must be remembered that in those days every indian did not own a needle gun or a winchester rifle, as they now do. their principal weapons were their bows and arrows. seeing that they could not take our little fortification, or drive us from it, they circled around us several times, shooting their arrows at us. one of the arrows struck george wood in the left shoulder, inflicting only a slight wound, however, and several lodged in the bodies of the dead mules; otherwise they did us no harm. the indians finally galloped off to a safe distance, where our bullets could not reach them, and seemed to be holding a council. this was a lucky move for us, for it gave us an opportunity to reload our guns and pistols, and prepare for the next charge of the enemy. during the brief cessation of hostilities, simpson extracted the arrow from wood's shoulder, and put an immense quid of tobacco on the wound. wood was then ready for business again. [illustration: holding the fort.] the indians did not give us a very long rest, for with, another desperate charge, as if to ride over us, they came dashing towards the mule barricade. we gave them a hot reception from our yagers and revolvers. they could not stand, or understand, the rapidly repeating fire of the revolvers, and we again checked them. they circled around us once more and gave us a few parting shots as they rode off, leaving behind them another dead indian and a horse. for two hours afterwards they did not seem to be doing anything but holding a council. we made good use of this time by digging up the ground inside the barricade with our knives and throwing the loose earth around and over the mules, and we soon had a very respectable fortification. we were not troubled any more that day, but during the night the cunning rascals tried to burn us out by setting fire to the prairie. the buffalo grass was so short that the fire did not trouble us much, but the smoke concealed the indians from our view, and they thought that they could approach close to us without being seen. we were aware of this, and kept a sharp look-out, being prepared all the time to receive them. they finally abandoned the idea of surprising us. next morning, bright and early, they gave us one more grand charge, and again we "stood them off." they then rode away half a mile or so, and formed a circle around us. each man dismounted and sat down, as if to wait and starve us out. they had evidently seen the advance train pass on the morning of the previous day, and believed that we belonged to that outfit and were trying to overtake it; they had no idea that another train was on its way after us. our hopes of escape from this unpleasant and perilous situation now depended upon the arrival of the rear train, and when we saw that the indians were going to besiege us instead of renewing their attacks, we felt rather confident of receiving timely assistance. we had expected that the train would be along late in the afternoon of the previous day, and as the morning wore away we were somewhat anxious and uneasy, at its non-arrival. at last, about ten o'clock, we began to hear in the distance the loud and sharp reports of the big bull-whips, which were handled with great dexterity by the teamsters, and cracked like rifle shots. these were as welcome sounds to us as were the notes of the bag-pipes to the beseiged garrison at lucknow, when the reinforcements were coming up and the pipers were heard playing, "the campbells are coming." in a few moments we saw the lead or head wagon coming slowly over the ridge, which had concealed the train from our view, and soon the whole outfit made its appearance. the indians observed the approaching train, and assembling in a group they held a short consultation. they then charged upon us once more, for the last time, and as they turned and dashed away over the prairie, we sent our farewell shots rattling after them. the teamsters, seeing the indians and hearing the shots, came rushing forward to our assistance, but by the time they reached us the red-skins had almost disappeared from view. the teamsters eagerly asked us a hundred questions concerning our fight, admired our fort and praised our pluck. simpson's remarkable presence of mind in planning the defense was the general topic of conversation among all the men. when the teams came up we obtained some water and bandages with which to dress wood's wound, which had become quite inflamed and painful, and we then put him into one of the wagons. simpson and myself obtained a remount, bade good-bye to our dead mules which had served us so well, and after collecting the ornaments and other plunder from the dead indians, we left their bodies and bones to bleach on the prairie. the train moved on again and we had no other adventures, except several exciting buffalo hunts on the south platte, near plum creek. we arrived at fort leavenworth about the middle of july, 1858, when i immediately visited home. i found mother in very poor health, as she was suffering from asthma. my oldest sister, martha, had, during my absence, been married to john crane, and was living at leavenworth. during the winter at fort bridger i had frequently talked with wild bill about my family, and as i had become greatly attached to him i asked him to come and make a visit at our house, which he promised to do. so one day, shortly after our return from fort bridger, he accompanied me home from leavenworth. my mother and sisters, who had heard so much about him from me, were delighted to see him and he spent several weeks at our place. they did everything possible to repay him for his kindness to me. ever afterwards, when he was at or near leavenworth, wild bill came out to our house to see the family, whether i was at home or not, and he always received a most cordial reception. his mother and sisters lived in illinois, and he used to call our house his home, as he did not have one of his own. i had been home only about a month, after returning from fort bridger, when i again started out with another train, going this time as assistant wagon-master under buck bomer. we went safely through to fort laramie, which was our destination, and from there we were ordered to take a load of supplies to a new post called fort wallach, which was being established at cheyenne pass. we made this trip and got back to fort laramie about november 1st. i then quit the employ of russell, majors & waddell, and joined a party of trappers who were sent out by the post trader, mr. ward, to trap on the streams of the chugwater and laramie for beaver, otter, and other fur animals, and also to poison wolves for their pelts. we were out two months, but as the expedition did not prove very profitable, and was rather dangerous on account of the indians, we abandoned the enterprise and came into fort laramie in the latter part of december. being anxious to return to the missouri river, i joined with two others, named scott and charley, who were also desirous of going east on a visit, bought three ponies and a pack-mule, and we started out together. we made rapid progress on our journey, and nothing worthy of note happened until one afternoon, along the banks of the little blue river, we spied a band of indians hunting on the opposite side of the stream, three miles away. we did not escape their notice, and they gave us a lively chase for two hours, but they could find no good crossing, and as evening came on we finally got away from them. we traveled until late in the night; when upon discovering a low, deep ravine which we thought would make a comfortable and safe camping-place, we stopped for a rest. in searching for a good place to make our beds, i found a hole, and i called to my companions that i had found a fine place for a nest. one of the party was to stand guard while the others slept. scott took the first watch, while charley and i made a bed in the hole. while clearing out the place we felt something rough, but as it was dark we could not make out what it was. at any rate we concluded that it was bones or sticks of wood; we thought perhaps it might be the bones of some animal which had fallen in there and died. these bones, for such they really proved to be, we pushed one side and then we lay down. but charley, being an inveterate smoker, could not resist the temptation of indulging in a smoke before going to sleep. so he sat up and struck a match to light his old pipe. our subterranean bed-chamber was thus illuminated for a moment or two; i sprang to my feet in an instant for a ghastly and horrifying sight was revealed to us. eight or ten human skeletons lay scattered upon the ground. the light of the match died out, but we had seen enough to convince us that we were in a large grave, into which, perhaps, some unfortunate emigrants, who had been killed by the indians, had been thrown; or, perhaps, seeking refuge there, they had been corraled and then killed on the spot. if such was the case, they had met the fate of thousands of others, whose friends have never heard of them since they left their eastern homes to seek their fortunes in the far west. however, we did not care to investigate this mystery any further, but we hustled out of that chamber of death and informed scott of our discovery. most of the plains-men are very superstitious, and we were no exception to the general rule. we surely thought that this incident was an evil omen, and that we would be killed if we remained there any longer. [illustration: camping in a sepulchre.] "let us dig out of here quicker than we can say jack robinson," said scott; and we began to "dig out" at once. we saddled our animals and hurriedly pushed forward through the darkness, traveling several miles before we again went into camp. next morning it was snowing fiercely, but we proceeded as best we could, and that night we succeeded in reaching oak grove ranch, which had been built during the summer. we here obtained comfortable accommodations and plenty to eat and drink--especially the latter. scott and charley were great lovers and consumers of "tanglefoot," and they soon got gloriously drunk, keeping it up for three days, during which time they gambled with the ranchmen, who got away with all their money; but little they cared for that, as they had their spree. they finally sobered up, and we resumed our journey, urging our jaded animals as much as they could stand, until we struck marysville, on the big blue. from this place to leavenworth we secured first-rate accommodations along the road, as the country had become pretty well settled. it was in february, 1859, that i got home. as there was now a good school in the neighborhood, taught by mr. divinny, my mother wished me to attend it, and i did so for two months and a half--the longest period of schooling that i ever received at any one time in my life. as soon as the spring came and the grass began growing, i became uneasy and discontented, and again longed for the free and open life of the plains. the pike's peak gold excitement was then at its height, and everybody was rushing to the new gold diggings. i caught the gold-fever myself, and joined a party bound for the new town of auraria, on cherry creek, afterwards called denver, in honor of the then governor of kansas. on arriving at auraria we pushed on to the gold streams in the mountains, passing up through golden gate, and over guy hill, and thence on to black hawk. we prospected for two months, but as none of us knew anything about mining we met with very poor success, and we finally concluded that prospecting for gold was not our forte. we accordingly abandoned the enterprise and turned our faces eastward once more. [illustration: rafting on the platte.] when we struck the platte river, the happy thought of constructing a small raft--which would float us clear to the missouri and thence down to leavenworth--entered our heads, and we accordingly carried out the plan. upon the completion of the raft we stocked it with provisions, and "set sail" down the stream. it was a light craft and a jolly crew, and all was smooth sailing for four or five days. when we got near old julesburg, we met with a serious mishap. our raft ran into an eddy, and quick as lightning went to pieces, throwing us all into the stream, which was so deep that we had to swim ashore. we lost everything we had, which greatly discouraged us, and we thereupon abandoned the idea of rafting it any farther. we then walked over to julesburg, which was only a few miles distant. this ranch, which became a somewhat famous spot, had been established by "old jules," a frenchman, who was afterwards killed by the notorious alf. slade. the great pony express, about which so much has been said and written, was at that time just being started. the line was being stocked with horses and put into good running condition. at julesburg i met mr. george chrisman, the leading wagon-master of russell, majors & waddell, who had always been a good friend to me. he had bought out "old jules," and was then the owner of julesburg ranch, and the agent of the pony express line. he hired me at once as a pony express rider, but as i was so young he thought i would not be able to stand the fierce riding which was required of the messengers. he knew, however, that i had been raised in the saddle--that i felt more at home there than in any other place--and as he saw that i was confident that i could stand the racket, and could ride as far and endure it as well as some of the older riders, he gave me a short route of forty-five miles, with the stations fifteen miles apart, and three changes of horses. i was required to make fifteen miles an hour, including the changes of horses. i was fortunate in getting well-broken animals, and being so light, i easily made my forty-five miles on time on my first trip out, and ever afterwards. i wrote to mother and told her how well i liked the exciting life of a pony express rider. she replied, and begged of me to give it up, as it would surely kill me. she was right about this, as fifteen miles an hour on horseback would, in a short time, shake any man "all to pieces"; and there were but very few, if any, riders who could stand it for any great length of time. nevertheless, i stuck to it for two months, and then, upon receiving a letter informing me that my mother was very sick, i gave it up and went back to the old home in salt creek valley. chapter vii. accidents and escapes. my restless, roaming spirit would not allow me to remain at home very long, and in november, after the recovery of my mother, i went up the republican river and its tributaries on a trapping expedition in company with dave harrington. our outfit consisted of one wagon and a yoke of oxen for the transportation of provisions, traps, and other necessaries. we began trapping near junction city, kansas, and then proceeded up the republican river to the mouth of prairie dog creek, where we found plenty of beavers. having seen no signs of indians thus far, we felt comparatively safe. we were catching a large number of beavers and were prospering finely, when one of our oxen, having become rather poor, slipped and fell upon the ice, dislocating his hip, so that we had to shoot him to end his misery. this left us without a team; but we cared little for that, however, as we had made up our minds to remain there till spring, when, and it was decided, that one of us should go to the nearest settlement and get a yoke of oxen with which to haul our wagon into some place of safety where we could leave it. we would probably have pulled through the winter all right had it not been for a very serious accident which befell me just at that time. spying a herd of elk, we started in pursuit of them, and creeping up towards them as slyly as possible, while going around the bend of a sharp bluff or bank of the creek i slipped and broke my leg just above the ankle. notwithstanding the great pain i was suffering, harrington could not help laughing when i urged him to shoot me, as he had the ox, and thus end my misery. he told me to "brace up," and that he would bring me out "all right." "i am not much of a surgeon," said he, "but i can fix that leg of yours, even if i haven't got a diploma." he succeeded in getting me back to camp, which was only a few yards from the creek, and then he set the fracture as well as he knew how, and made me as comfortable as was possible under the circumstances. we then discussed the situation, which to say the least, looked pretty blue. knowing that, owing to our mishaps, we could not do anything more that winter, and as i dreaded the idea of lying there on my back with a broken leg for weeks, and perhaps months, i prevailed upon harrington to go the nearest settlement--about 125 miles distant--to obtain a yoke of cattle, and then come back for me. this he consented to do; but before leaving he gathered plenty of wood, and as the ground was covered with snow, i would have no difficulty in getting water if i had a fire. there was plenty of fresh meat and other provisions in the "dug-out," so that i had no fears of starvation. the "dugout," which we had built immediately after we had determined to remain there all winter, was a very cosy hole in the ground, covered with poles, grass and sod, with a fireplace in one end. harrington thought it would take him twenty days or more to make the round trip; but being well provided for--for this length of time--i urged him to go at once. bidding me good-bye he started on foot. after his departure, each day, as it came and went, seemed to grow longer to me as i lay there helpless and alone. i made a note of each day, so as to know the time when i might expect him back. [illustration: saved by chief rain-in-the-face.] on the twelfth day after harrington left me, i was awakened from a sound sleep by some one touching me upon the shoulder. i looked up and was astonished to see an indian warrior standing at my side. his face was hideously daubed with paint, which told me more forcibly than words could have done that he was on the war-path. he spoke to me in broken english and sioux mixed, and i understood him to ask what i was doing there, and how many there were with me. by this time the little dug-out was nearly filled with other indians, who had been peeping in at the door, and i could hear voices of still more outside as well as the stamping of horses. i began to think that my time had come, as the saying is, when into the cabin stepped an elderly indian, whom i readily recognized as old rain-in-the-face, a sioux chief from the vicinity of fort laramie. i rose up as well as i could and showed him my broken leg. i told him where i had seen him, and asked him if he remembered me. he replied that he knew me well, and that i used to come to his lodge at fort laramie to visit him. i then managed to make him understand that i was there alone and having broken my leg, i had sent my partner off for a team to take me away. i asked him if his young men intended to kill me, and he answered, that was what they had proposed to do, but he would see what they had to say. the indians then talked among themselves for a few minutes, and upon the conclusion of the consultation, old rain-in-the-face turned to me and gave me to understand that as i was yet a "papoose," or a very young man, they would not take my life. but one of his men, who had no fire-arms, wanted my gun and pistol. i implored old rain-in-the-face to be allowed to keep the weapons, or at least one of them, as i needed something with which to keep the wolves away. he replied that as his young men were out on the war path, he had induced them to spare my life; but he could not prevent them from taking what ever else they wanted. they unsaddled their horses as if to remain there for some time, and sure enough they stayed the remainder of the day and all night. they built a fire in the dug-out and cooked a lot of my provisions, helping themselves to everything as if they owned it. however, they were polite enough to give me some of the food after they had cooked it. it was a sumptuous feast that they had, and they seemed to relish it as if it was the best lay-out they had had for many a long day. they took all my sugar and coffee, and left me only some meat and a small quantity of flour, a little salt and some baking powder. they also robbed me of such cooking utensils as they wished; then bidding me good-bye, early in the morning, they mounted their ponies and rode off to the south, evidently bent on some murdering and thieving expedition. i was glad enough to see them leave, as my life had undoubtedly hung by a thread during their presence. i am confident that had it not been for my youth and the timely recognition and interference of old rain-in-the-face they would have killed me without any hesitation or ceremony. the second day after they had gone it began snowing, and for three long and weary days the snow continued to fall thick and fast. it blocked the door-way and covered the dug-out to the depth of several feet, so that i became a snowbound prisoner. my wood was mostly under the snow, and it was with great difficulty that i could get enough to start a fire with. my prospects were gloomy indeed. i had just faced death at the hands of the indians, and now i was in danger of losing my life from starvation and cold. i knew that the heavy snow would surely delay harrington on his return; and i feared that he might have perished in the storm, or that some other accident might have befallen him. perhaps some wandering band of indians had run across him and killed him. i was continually thinking of all these possibilities, and i must say that my outlook seemed desperate. at last the twentieth day arrived--the day on which harrington was to return--and i counted the hours from morning till night, but the day passed away with no signs of harrington. the wolves made the night hideous with their howls; they gathered around the dug-out; ran over the roof; and pawed and scratched as if trying to get in. several days and nights thus wore away, the monotony all the time becoming greater, until at last it became almost unendurable. some days i would go without any fire at all, and eat raw frozen meat and melt snow in my mouth for water. i became almost convinced that harrington had been caught in the storm and had been buried under the snow, or was lost. many a time during that dreary period of uncertainty, i made up my mind that if i ever got out of that place alive, i would abandon the plains and the life of a trapper forever. i had nearly given up all hopes of leaving the dug-out alive. it was on the twenty-ninth day, while i was lying thus despondently thinking and wondering, that i heard the cheerful sound of harrington's voice as he came slowly up the creek, yelling, "whoa! haw!" to his cattle. a criminal on the scaffold, with the noose around his neck, the trap about to be sprung, and receiving a pardon just at the last moment, thus giving him a new lease of life, could not have been more grateful than i was at that time. it was useless for me to try to force the door open, as the snow had completely blockaded it, and i therefore anxiously awaited harrington's arrival. "hello! billy!" he sang out in a loud voice as he came up, he evidently being uncertain as to my being alive. "all right, dave," was my reply. "well, old boy, you're alive, are you?" said he. "yes; and that's about all. i've had a tough siege of it since you've been away, and i came pretty nearly passing in my chips. i began to think you never would get here, as i was afraid you had been snowed under," said i. he soon cleared away the snow from the entrance, and opening the door he came in. i don't think there ever was a more welcome visitor than he was. i remember that i was so glad to see him that i put my arms around his neck and hugged him for five minutes; never shall i forget faithful dave harrington. "well, billy, my boy, i hardly expected to see you alive again," said harrington, as soon as i had given him an opportunity to draw his breath; "i had a terrible trip of it, and i didn't think i ever would get through. i was caught in the snow-storm, and was laid up for three days. the cattle wandered away, and i came within an ace of losing them altogether. when i got started again the snow was so deep that it prevented me from making much headway. but as i had left you here i was bound to come through, or die in the attempt." again i flung my arms around dave's neck and gave him a hug that would have done honor to a grizzly bear. my gratitude was thus much more forcibly expressed than it could have been by words. harrington understood this, and seemed to appreciate it. the tears of joy rolled down my cheeks, and it was impossible for me to restrain them. when my life had been threatened by the indians i had not felt half so miserable as when i lay in the dug-out thinking i was destined to die a slow death by starvation and cold. the indians would have made short work of it, and would have given me little or no time to think of my fate. i questioned harrington as to his trip, and learned all the details. he had passed through hardships which but few men could have endured. noble fellow, that he was. he had risked his own life to save mine. after he had finished his story, every word of which i had listened to with eager interest, i related to him my own experiences, in which he became no less interested. he expressed great astonishment that the indians had not killed me, and he considered it one of the luckiest and most remarkable escapes he had ever heard of. it amused me, however, to see him get very angry when i told him that they had taken my gun and pistol and had used up our provisions. "but never mind, billy," said he, "we can stand it till the snow goes off, which will not be long, and then we will pull our wagon back to the settlements." a few days afterwards harrington gathered up our traps, and cleaned the snow out of the wagon. covering it with the sheet which we had used in the dug-out, he made a comfortable bed inside, and helped me into it. we had been quite successful in trapping, having caught three hundred beavers and one hundred otters, the skins of which harrington loaded on the wagon. we then pulled out for the settlements, making good headway, as the snow had nearly disappeared, having been blown or melted away, so that we had no difficulty in finding a road. on the eighth day out we came to a farmer's house, or ranch, on the republican river, where we stopped and rested for two days, and then went on to the ranch where harrington had obtained the yoke of cattle. we gave the owner of the team twenty-five beaver skins, equal to $60, for the use of the cattle, and he let us have them until we reached junction city, sending his boy with us to bring them back. at junction city we sold our wagon and furs and went with a government mule train to leavenworth--arriving there in march, 1860. i was just able to get around on crutches when i got into leavenworth, and it was several months after that before i entirely recovered the use of my leg. during the winter i had often talked to harrington about my mother and sisters, and had invited him to go home with me in the spring. i now renewed the invitation, which he accepted, and accompanied me home. when i related to mother my adventures and told her how harrington had saved my life, she thanked him again and again. i never saw a more grateful woman than she was. she asked him to always make his home with us, as she never could reward him sufficiently for what he had done for her darling boy, as she called me. harrington concluded to remain with us through the summer and farm mother's land. but alas! the uncertainty of life. the coming of death when least expected was strikingly illustrated in his case. during the latter part of april he went to a nursery for some trees, and while coming home late at night he caught a severe cold and was taken seriously sick, with lung fever. mother did everything in her power for him. she could not have done more had he been her own son, but notwithstanding her motherly care and attention, and the skill of a physician from leavenworth, he rapidly grew worse. it seemed hard, indeed, to think that a great strong man like harrington, who had braved the storms, and endured the other hardships of the plains all winter long, should, during the warm and beautiful days of spring, when surrounded by friends and the comforts of a good home, be fatally stricken down. but such was his fate. he died one week from the day on which he was taken sick. we all mourned his loss as we would that of a loved son or brother, as he was one of the truest, bravest, and best of friends. amid sorrow and tears we laid him away to rest in a picturesque spot on pilot knob. his death cast a gloom over our household, and it was a long time before it was entirely dispelled. i felt very lonely without harrington, and i soon wished for a change of scene again. chapter viii. adventures on the overland road. as the warm days of summer approached i longed for the cool air of the mountains; and to the mountains i determined to go. after engaging a man to take care of the farm, i proceeded to leavenworth and there met my old wagon-master and friend, lewis simpson, who was fitting out a train at atchison and loading it with supplies for the overland stage company, of which mr. russell, my old employer, was one of the proprietors. simpson was going with this train to fort laramie and points further west. "come along with me, billy," said he, "i'll give you a good lay-out. i want you with me." "i don't know that i would like to go as far west as that again," replied i, "but i do want to ride the pony express once more; there's some life in that." "yes, that's so; but it will soon shake the life out of you," said he. "however, if that's what you've got your mind set on, you had better come to atchison with me and see mr. russell, who i'm pretty certain, will give you a situation." i replied that i would do that. i then went home and informed mother of my intention, and as her health was very poor i had great difficulty in obtaining her consent. i finally convinced her that as i was of no use on the farm, it would be better and more profitable for me to return to the plains. so after giving her all the money i had earned by trapping, i bade her good-bye and set out for atchison. i met mr. russell there and asked him for employment as a pony express-rider; he gave me a letter to mr. slade, who was then the stage agent for the division extending from julesburg to rocky ridge. slade had his headquarters at horseshoe station, thirty-six miles west of fort laramie and i made the trip thither in company with simpson and his train. almost the very first person i saw after dismounting from my horse was slade. i walked up to him and presented mr. russell's letter, which he hastily opened and read. with a sweeping glance of his eye he took my measure from head to foot, and then said: "my boy, you are too young for a pony express-rider. it takes men for that business." "i rode two months last year on bill trotter's division, sir, and filled the bill then; and i think i am better able to ride now," said i. "what! are you the boy that was riding there, and was called the youngest rider on the road?" "i am the same boy," i replied, confident that everything was now all right for me. "i have heard of you before. you are a year or so older now, and i think you can stand it. i'll give you a trial anyhow and if you weaken you can come back to horseshoe station and tend stock." that ended our first interview. the next day he assigned me to duty on the road from red buttes on the north platte, to the three crossings of the sweetwater--a distance of seventy-six miles--and i began riding at once. it was a long piece of road, but i was equal to the undertaking; and soon afterwards had an opportunity to exhibit my power of endurance as a pony express rider. one day when i galloped into three crossings, my home station, i found that the rider who was expected to take the trip out on my arrival, had got into a drunken row the night before and had been killed; and that there was no one to fill his place. i did not hesitate for a moment to undertake an extra ride of eighty-five miles to rocky ridge, and i arrived at the latter place on time. i then turned back and rode to red buttes, my starting place, accomplishing on the round trip a distance of 322 miles. [illustration: i immediately changed horses] slade heard of this feat of mine, and one day as he was passing on a coach he sang out to me, "my boy, you're a brick, and no mistake. that was a good run you made when you rode your own and miller's routes, and i'll see that you get extra pay for it." slade, although rough at times and always a dangerous character--having killed many a man--was always kind to me. during the two years that i worked for him as pony express-rider and stage-driver, he never spoke an angry word to me. as i was leaving horse creek one day, a party of fifteen indians "jumped me" in a sand ravine about a mile west of the station. they fired at me repeatedly, but missed their mark. i was mounted on a roan california horse--the fleetest steed i had. putting spurs and whip to him, and lying flat on his back, i kept straight on for sweetwater bridge--eleven miles distant--instead of trying to turn back to horse creek. the indians came on in hot pursuit, but my horse soon got away from them, and ran into the station two miles ahead of them. the stock-tender had been killed there that morning, and all the stock had been driven off by the indians, and as i was therefore unable to change horses, i continued on to ploutz's station--twelve miles further--thus making twenty-four miles straight run with one horse. i told the people at ploutz's what had happened at sweetwater bridge, and with a fresh horse went on and finished the trip without any further adventure. [illustration: attack on stage coach.] about the middle of september the indians became very troublesome on the line of the stage road along the sweetwater. between split rock and three crossings they robbed a stage, killed the driver and two passengers, and badly wounded lieut. flowers, the assistant division agent. the red-skinned thieves also drove off the stock from the different stations, and were continually lying in wait for the passing stages and pony express-riders, so that we had to take many desperate chances in running the gauntlet. the indians had now become so bad and had stolen so much stock that it was decided to stop the pony express for at least six weeks, and to run the stages but occasionally during that period; in fact, it would have been almost impossible to have run the enterprise much longer without restocking the line. while we were thus nearly all lying idle, a party was organized to go out and search for stolen stock. this party was composed of stage-drivers, express-riders, stock-tenders, and ranchmen--forty of them altogether--and they were well-armed and well-mounted. they were mostly men who had undergone all kinds of hardships and braved every danger, and they were ready and anxious to "tackle" any number of indians. wild bill (who had been driving stage on the road and had recently come down to our division) was elected captain of the company. it was supposed that the stolen stock had been taken to the head of powder river and vicinity, and the party, of which i was a member, started out for that section in high hopes of success. twenty miles out from sweetwater bridge, at the head of horse creek, we found an indian trail running north towards powder river, and we could see by the tracks that most of the horses had been recently shod and were undoubtedly our stolen stage stock. pushing rapidly forward, we followed this trail to powder river; thence down this stream to within about forty miles of the spot where old fort reno now stands. here the trail took a more westerly course along the foot of the mountains, leading eventually to crazy woman's fork--a tributary of powder river. at this point we discovered that the party whom we were trailing had been joined by another band of indians, and, judging from the fresh appearance of the trail, the united body could not have left this spot more than twenty-four hours before. being aware that we were now in the heart of the hostile country and that we might at any moment find more indians than we had "lost," we advanced with more caution than usual, and kept a sharp lookout. as we were approaching clear creek, another tributary of powder river, we discovered indians on the opposite side of the creek, some three miles distant; at least we saw horses grazing, which was a sure sign that there were indians there. the indians thinking themselves in comparative safety--never before having been followed so far into their own country by white men--had neglected to put out any scouts. they had no idea that there were any white men in that part of the country. we got the lay of their camp, and then held a council to consider and mature a plan for capturing it. we knew full well that the indians would outnumber us at least three to one, and perhaps more. upon the advice and suggestion of wild bill, it was finally decided that we should wait until it was nearly dark, and then, after creeping as close to them as possible, make a dash through their camp, open a general fire on them, and stampede the horses. this plan, at the proper time, was most successfully executed. the dash upon the enemy was a complete surprise to them. they were so overcome with astonishment that they did not know what to make of it. we could not have astonished them any more if we had dropped down into their camp from the clouds. they did not recover from the surprise of this sudden charge until after we had ridden pell-mell through their camp and got away with our own horses as well as theirs. we at once circled the horses around towards the south, and after getting them on the south side of clear creek, some twenty of our men--just as the darkness was coming on--rode back and gave the indians a few parting shots. we then took up our line of march for sweetwater bridge, where we arrived four days afterwards with all of our own horses and about one hundred captured indian ponies. the expedition had proved a grand success, and the event was celebrated in the usual manner--by a grand spree. the only store at sweetwater bridge did a rushing business for several days. the returned stock-hunters drank, and gambled and fought. the indian ponies, which had been distributed among the captors, passed from hand to hand at almost every deal of the cards. there seemed to be no limit to the rioting, and carousing; revelry reigned supreme. on the third day of the orgie, slade, who had heard the news, came up to the bridge and took a hand in the "fun," as it was called. to add some variation and excitement to the occasion, slade got in to a quarrel with a stage-driver and shot him, killing him almost instantly. [illustration: alf. slade killing the driver.] the "boys" became so elated as well as "elevated" over their success against the indians, that most of them were in favor of going back and cleaning out the whole indian race. one old driver especially, dan smith, was eager to open a war on all the hostile nations, and had the drinking been continued another week he certainly would have undertaken the job, single-handed and alone. the spree finally came to an end; the men sobered down and abandoned the idea of again invading the hostile country. the recovered horses were replaced on the road, and the stages and pony express were again running on time. slade, having taken a great fancy to me, said: "billy, i want you to come down to my headquarters, and i'll make you a sort of supernumerary rider, and send you out only when it is necessary." i accepted the offer, and went with him down to horseshoe, where i had a comparatively easy time of it. i had always been fond of hunting, and i now had a good opportunity to gratify my ambition in that direction, as i had plenty of spare time on my hands. in this connection i will relate one of my bear-hunting adventures. one day, when i had nothing else to do, i saddled up an extra pony express horse, and arming myself with a good rifle and pair of revolvers, struck out for the foot hills of laramie peak for a bear-hunt. riding carelessly along, and breathing the cool and bracing autumn air which came down from the mountains, i felt as only a man can feel who is roaming over the prairies of the far west, well armed, and mounted on a fleet and gallant steed. the perfect freedom which he enjoys is in itself a refreshing stimulant to the mind as well as to the body. such indeed were my feelings on this beautiful day, as i rode up the valley of the horseshoe. occasionally i scared up a flock of sage-hens or a jack-rabbit. antelopes and deer were almost always in sight in any direction, but as they were not the kind of game i was after, on that day, i passed them by, and kept on towards the higher mountains. the further i rode the rougher and wilder became the country, and i knew that i was approaching the haunts of the bear. i did not discover any, however, although i saw plenty of tracks in the snow. about two o'clock in the afternoon, my horse having become tired, and myself being rather weary, i shot a sage-hen, and dismounting, i unsaddled my horse and tied him to a small tree, where he could easily feed on the mountain grass. i then built a little fire, and broiling the chicken and seasoning it with salt and pepper, which i had obtained from my saddle-bags, i soon sat down to a "genuine square meal," which i greatly relished. after resting for a couple of hours, i remounted and resumed my upward trip to the mountains, having made up my mind to camp out that night rather than go back without a bear, which my friends knew i had gone out for. as the days were growing short, night soon came on, and i looked around for a suitable camping place. while thus engaged, i scared up a flock of sage-hens, two of which i shot, intending to have one for supper and the other for breakfast. by this time it was becoming quite dark, and i rode down to one of the little mountain streams, where i found an open place in the timber suitable for a camp. i dismounted, and after unsaddling my horse and hitching him to a tree, i prepared to start a fire. just then i was startled by hearing a horse whinnying further up the stream. it was quite a surprise to me, and i immediately ran to my animal to keep him from answering, as horses usually do in such cases. i thought that the strange horse might belong to some roaming band of indians, as i knew of no white men being in that portion of the country at that time. i was certain that the owner of the strange horse could not be far distant, and i was very anxious to find out who my neighbor was, before letting him know that i was in his vicinity. i therefore re-saddled my horse, and leaving him tied so that i could easily reach him i took my gun and started out on a scouting expedition up the stream. i had gone about four hundred yards when, in a bend of the stream, i discovered ten or fifteen horses grazing. on the opposite side of the creek a light was shining high up the mountain bank. approaching the mysterious spot as cautiously as possible, and when within a few yards of the light--which i discovered came from a dug-out in the mountain side--i heard voices, and soon i was able distinguish the words, as they proved to be in my own language. then i knew that the occupants of the dug-out, whence the voices proceeded, were white men. thinking that they might be a party of trappers, i boldly walked up to the door and knocked for admission. the voices instantly ceased, and for a moment a deathlike silence reigned inside. then there seemed to follow a kind of hurried whispering--a sort of consultation--and then some one called out: "who's there?" "a friend and a white man," i replied. the door opened, and a big, ugly-looking fellow stepped, forth and said: "come in." i accepted the invitation with some degree of fear and hesitation, which i endeavored to conceal, as i saw that it was too late to back out, and that it would never do to weaken at that point, whether they were friends or foes. upon entering the dug-out my eyes fell upon eight as rough and villainous looking men as i ever saw in my life. two of them i instantly recognized as teamsters who had been driving in lew simpson's train, a few months before, and had been discharged. they were charged with the murdering and robbing of a ranchman; and having stolen his horses it was supposed that they had left the country. i gave them no signs of recognition however, deeming it advisable to let them remain in ignorance as to who i was. it was a hard crowd, and i concluded that the sooner i could get away from them the better it would be for me. i felt confident that they were a band of horse-thieves. "where are you going, young man; and who's with you?" asked one of the men who appeared to be the leader of the gang. "i am entirely alone. i left horseshoe station this morning for a bear hunt, and not finding any bears, i had determined to camp out for the night and wait till morning," said i; "and just as i was going into camp, a few hundred yards down the creek, i heard one of your horses whinnying, and then i came up to your camp." [illustration: the horse thieves' den.] i was thus explicit in my statement in order, if possible to satisfy the cut-throats that i was not spying upon them, but that my intrusion was entirely accidental. "where's your horse?" demanded the boss thief. "i left him down the creek," i answered. they proposed going after the horse, but i thought that that would never do, as it would leave me without any means of escape, and i accordingly said, in hopes to throw them off the track, "captain, i'll leave my gun here and go down and get my horse, and come back and stay all night." i said this in as cheerful and as careless a manner as possible, so as not to arouse their suspicions in any way, or lead them to think that i was aware of their true character. i hated to part with my gun, but my suggestion of leaving it was a part of the plan of escape which i had arranged. if they have the gun, thought i, they would surely believe that i intended to come back. but this little game did not work at all, as one of the desperadoes spoke up and said: "jim and i will go down with you after your horse, and you can leave your gun here all the same, as you'll not need it." "all right," i replied, for i could certainly have said nothing else. it became evident to me that it would be better to trust myself with two men than with the whole party. it was apparent that from this time on, i would have to be on the alert for some good opportunity to give them the slip. "come along," said one of them, and together we went down the creek, and soon came to the spot where my horse was tied. one of the men unhitched the animal and said: "i'll lead the horse." "very well," said i, "i've got a couple of sage-hens here. lead on." i picked up the sage-hens, which i had killed a few hours before, and followed the man who was leading the horse, while his companion brought up the rear. the nearer we approached the dug-out the more i dreaded the idea of going back among the villainous cut-throats. my first plan of escape having failed, i now determined upon another. [illustration: my escape from the horse thieves.] i had both of my revolvers with me, the thieves not having thought it necessary to search me. it was now quite dark, and i purposely dropped one of the sage-hens, and asked the man behind me to pick it up. while he was hunting for it on the ground, i quickly pulled out one of my colt's revolvers and struck him a tremendous blow on the back of the head, knocking him senseless to the ground. i then instantly wheeled around, and saw that the man ahead who was only a few feet distant, had heard the blow and had turned to see what was the matter, his hand upon his revolver. we faced each other at about the same instant, but before he could fire, as he tried to do, i shot him dead in his tracks. then jumping on my horse, i rode down the creek as fast as possible, through the darkness and over the rough ground and rocks. the other outlaws in the dug-out, having heard the shot which i had fired, knew there was trouble, and they all came rushing down the creek. i suppose, by the time they reached the man whom i had knocked down, that he had recovered and hurriedly told them of what had happened. they did not stay with the man whom i had shot, but came on in hot pursuit of me. they were not mounted, and were making better time down the rough canãµn than i was on horseback. from time to time i heard them gradually gaining on me. at last they had come so near that i saw that i must abandon my horse. so i jumped to the ground, and gave him a hard slap with the butt of one of my revolvers, which started him on down the valley, while i scrambled up the mountain side. i had not ascended more than forty feet when i heard my pursuers coming closer and closer; i quickly hid behind a large pine tree, and in a few moments they all rushed by me, being led on by the rattling footsteps of my horse, which they heard ahead of them. soon i heard them firing at random at the horse, as they no doubt supposed i was still seated on his back. as soon as they had passed me i climbed further up the steep mountain, and knowing that i had given them the slip, and feeling certain that i could keep out of their way, i at once struck out for horseshoe station, which was twenty-five miles distant. i had hard traveling at first, but upon reaching lower and better ground, i made good headway, walking all night and getting into the station just before daylight,--foot-sore, weary, and generally played out. i immediately waked up the men of the station and told them of my adventure. slade himself happened to be there, and he at once organized a party to go out and hunt up the horse-thieves. shortly after daylight twenty well-armed stage-drivers, stock-tenders and ranchmen were galloping in the direction of the dug-out. of course i went along with the party, notwithstanding i was very tired and had had hardly any rest at all. we had a brisk ride, and arrived in the immediate vicinity of the thieves' rendezvous at about ten o'clock in the morning. we approached the dug-out cautiously, but upon getting in close proximity to it we could discover no horses in sight. we could see the door of the dug-out standing wide open, and we then marched up to the place. no one was inside, and the general appearance of everything indicated that the place had been deserted--that the birds had flown. such, indeed, proved to be the case. we found a new-made grave, where they had evidently buried the man whom i had shot. we made a thorough search of the whole vicinity, and finally found their trail going southeast in the direction of denver. as it would have been useless to follow them, we rode back to the station; and thus ended my eventful bear-hunt. we had no more trouble for some time from horse-thieves after that. during the winter of 1860 and the spring of 1861 i remained at horseshoe, occasionally riding pony express and taking care of stock. chapter ix. fast driving. it was in the spring of 1861, while i was at horseshoe, that the eastern-bound coach came in one day loaded down with passengers and baggage, and stopped for dinner; horseshoe being a regular dinner station as well as a home station. the passengers consisted of six englishmen, and they had been continually grumbling about the slow time that was being made by the stages, saying that the farther they got east the slower they went. "these blarsted 'eathens don't know hanything habout staging, hany-'ow," remarked one of them. "blarst me bloody heyes! they cawn't stage in this country as we do in hingland, you know," said another. their remarks were overheard by bob scott, who was to drive the coach from horseshoe to fort laramie, and he determined to give them satisfaction before they got over his route. scott was known to be the best reinsman and the most expert driver on the whole line of the road. he was a very gentlemanly fellow in his general appearance and conduct, but at times he would become a reckless dare-devil, and would take more desperate chances than any other driver. he delighted in driving wild teams on the darkest nights, over a mountain road, and had thus become the hero of many a thrilling adventure. it happened on this day he was to drive a team of six pony express horses, which had been only partially broken in as a stage team. as the stock-tenders were hitching them up, bob, who was standing by, said, "i'll show them englishmen that we 'blarsted heathens' do know something about staging in this country." we all knew from bob's looks that something was up. it required several men to hitch up this frisky team, as a man had to hold on to each one of the horses by the bits, while they were stringing them out. the englishmen came out from dinner, and were delighted to see the horses prancing and pawing as if anxious to start. "ha! my deah fellah, now we will 'ave a fine ride this hafternoon," said one of them. "by jove! those are the kind of 'orses they hought to 'ave on hall the teams," remarked another. "are you the lad who is going to drive to-day?" asked another of bob. "yes, gentlemen," answered bob, "i'll show you how we stage it in this country." bob mounted the box, gathered the lines, and pulling the horses strongly by the bits, he sang out to the englishmen, "all aboard!" bob's companion on the box was capt. cricket; a little fellow who was the messenger of the coach. after everybody was seated, bob told the stock-tenders to "turn 'em loose." we, who were standing around to see the stage start out, expected it would go off at a lively rate. we were considerably surprised, therefore, when, after the horses had made a few lively jumps, bob put on the big california brakes and brought them down to a walk. the road, for a distance of four miles, gradually rose to the top of a hill, and all the way up this ascent, bob held the impatient team in check. "blarst your heyes, driver, why don't you let them go?" exclaimed one of the passengers, who had all along been expecting a very brisk ride. every once in a while they would ask him some such question, but he paid no attention to them. at last he reached the top of the hill, and then he suddenly flung three of the lines on the left side of the team, and the other three on the right side. he then began "playing the silk to them,"--that is to say, he began to lash them unmercifully. the team started off like a streak of lightning, so to speak, without a single rein being held by the driver. bob cried out to the englishmen, saying, "hold on, gentlemen, and i'll give you a lively ride, and show you how to stage it in the rocky mountains." [illustration: bob scott's famous coach ride.] his next movement was to pull the lamps out of the sockets and throw them at the leaders. the glass broke upon their backs and nearly set them wild, but being so accustomed to running the road, they never once left the track, and went flying on down the grade towards the next station, eight miles distant, the coach bouncing over the loose stones and small obstacles, and surging from side to side, as an eggshell would in the rapids of niagara. not satisfied with the break-neck rate at which they were traveling, bob pulled out his revolver and fired in rapid succession, at the same time yelling in a demoniacal manner. by this time the englishmen had become thoroughly frightened, as they saw the lines flying wildly in every direction and the team running away. they did not know whether to jump out or remain in the coach. bob would occasionally look down from his seat, and, seeing their frightened faces, would ask, "well, how do you like staging in this country now?" the englishmen stuck to the coach, probably thinking it would be better to do so than to take the chances of breaking their necks by jumping. as the flying team was nearing the station, the stock tender saw that they were running away and that the driver had no control over them whatever. being aware that the pony express horses were accustomed to running right into the stable on arriving at the station, he threw open the large folding doors, which would just allow the passage of the team and coach into the stable. the horses, sure enough, made for the open doorway. capt. cricket, the messenger, and scott got down in the boot of the coach to save themselves from colliding with the top of the stable door. the coach would probably have passed through into the stable without any serious damage had it not been for the bar or threshold that was stretched across the ground to fasten the doors to. this bar was a small log, and the front wheels struck it with such force that the coach was thrown up high enough to strike the upper portion of the door frame. the top of the coach was completely torn off, and one of the passenger's arms was broken. this was the only serious injury that was done; though it was a matter of surprise to all, that any of the travelers escaped. the coach was backed out, when the running gear was found to be as good as ever. the top was soon patched up, a change of team was made, and bob scott, mounting the box as if nothing had happened, took the reins in hand, and shouted, "all aboard!" the englishmen, however, had had enough of bob scott, and not one of the party was willing to risk his life with him again. they said that he was drunk, or crazy or both, and that they would report him and have him discharged for what he had already done. bob waited a few minutes to give them an opportunity to take their seats in the coach, but they told him most emphatically that he could drive on without them, as they intended to wait there for the next stage. their traps were taken off, and bob drove away without a single passenger. he made his usual time into fort laramie, which was the end of his run. the englishmen came through on the next day's coach, and proceeded on to atchison, where they reported bob to the superintendent of the line, who, however, paid little or no attention to the matter, as bob remained on the road. such is the story of the liveliest and most reckless piece of stage-driving that ever occurred on the overland stage road. chapter x. questionable proceedings. having been away from home nearly a year, and having occasionally heard of my mother's poor health, i determined to make her a visit; so procuring a pass over the road, i went to leavenworth, arriving there about june 1st, 1861, going from there home. the civil war had broken out, and excitement ran high in that part of the country. my mother, of course, was a strong union woman, and had such great confidence in the government that she believed the war would not last over six months. leavenworth at that time was quite an important outfitting post for the west and southwest, and the fort there was garrisoned by a large number of troops. while in the city one day i met several of the old, as well as the young men, who had been members of the free state party all through the kansas troubles, and who had, like our family, lost everything at the hands of the missourians. they now thought a good opportunity offered to retaliate and get even with their persecutors, as they were all considered to be secessionists. that they were all secessionists, however, was not true, as all of them did not sympathize with the south. but the free state men, myself among them, took it for granted that as missouri was a slave state the inhabitants must all be secessionists, and therefore our enemies. a man by the name of chandler proposed that we organize an independent company for the purpose of invading missouri and making war on its people on our own responsibility. he at once went about it in a very quiet way, and succeeded in inducing twenty-five men to join him in the hazardous enterprise. having a longing and revengeful desire to retaliate upon the missourians for the brutal manner in which they had treated and robbed my family, i became a member of chandler's company. his plan was that we should leave our homes in parties of not more than two or three together, and meet at a certain point near westport, missouri, on a fixed day. his instructions were carried out to the letter, and we met at the rendezvous at the appointed time. chandler had been there some days before us, and, thoroughly disguised, had been looking around the country for the whereabouts of all the best horses. he directed us to secretly visit certain farms and collect all the horses possible, and bring them together the next night. this we did, and upon reassembling it was found that nearly every man had two horses. we immediately struck out for the kansas line, which we crossed at an indian ferry on the kansas river, above wyandotte, and as soon as we had set foot upon kansas soil we separated with the understanding; that we were to meet one week from that day at leavenworth. [illustration: nearly every man had two horses.] some of the parties boldly took their confiscated horses into leavenworth, while others rode them to their homes. this action may look to the reader like horse-stealing, and some people might not hesitate to call it by that name; but chandler plausibly maintained that we were only getting back our own, or the equivalent, from the missourians, and as the government was waging war against the south, it was perfectly square and honest, and we had a good right to do it. so we didn't let our consciences trouble us very much. we continued to make similar raids upon the missourians off and on during the summer, and occasionally we had running fights with them; none of the skirmishes, however, amounting to much. the government officials hearing of our operations, put detectives upon our track, and several of the party were arrested. my mother, upon learning that i was engaged in this business, told me it was neither honorable nor right, and she would not for a moment countenance any such proceedings. consequently i abandoned the jay-hawking enterprise, for such it really was. about this time the government bought from jones and cartwright several ox-trains, which were sent to rolla, missouri, all being put in charge of my old and gallant friend, wild bill, who had just become the hero of the day, on account of a terrible fight which he had had with a gang of desperadoes and outlaws, who infested the border under the leadership of the then notorious jake mccandless. in this fight he had killed mccandless and three of his men. the affair occurred while wild bill was riding the pony express in western kansas. the custom with the express riders, when within half a mile of a station, was either to begin shouting or blowing a horn in order to notify the stock tender of his approach, and to have a fresh horse already saddled for him on his arrival, so that he could go right on without a moment's delay. one day, as wild bill neared rock creek station, where he was to change horses, he began shouting as usual at the proper distance; but the stock-tender, who had been married only a short time and had his wife living with him at the station, did not make his accustomed appearance. wild bill galloped up and instead of finding the stock-tender ready for him with a fresh horse, he discovered him lying across the stable door with the blood oozing from a bullet-hole in his head. the man was dead, and it was evident that he had been killed only a few moments before. in a second wild bill jumped from his horse, and looking in the direction of the house he saw a man coming towards him. the approaching man fired on him at once, but missed his aim. quick as lightning wild bill pulled his revolver and returned the fire. the stranger fell dead, shot through the brain. "bill, bill! help! help! save me!" such was the cry that bill now heard. it was the shrill and pitiful voice of the dead stock-tender's wife, and it came from a window of the house. she had heard the exchange of shots, and knew that wild bill had arrived. he dashed over the dead body of the villain whom he had killed, and just as he sprang into the door of the house, he saw two powerful men assaulting the woman. one of the desperadoes was in the act of striking her with the butt end of a revolver, and while his arm was still raised, bill sent a ball crashing through his skull, killing him instantly. two other men now came rushing from an adjoining room, and bill, seeing that the odds were three to one against him, jumped into a corner, and then firing, he killed another of the villains. before he could shoot again the remaining two men closed in upon him, one of whom had drawn a large bowie knife. bill wrenched the knife from his grasp and drove it through the heart of the outlaw. [illustration: wild bill and the outlaws.] the fifth and last man now grabbed bill by the throat, and held him at arm's length, but it was only for a moment, as bill raised his own powerful right arm and struck his antagonist's left arm such a terrible blow that he broke it. the disabled desperado, seeing that he was no longer a match for bill, jumped through the door, and mounting a horse he succeeded in making his escape--being the sole survivor of the jake mccandless gang. wild bill remained at the station with the terrified woman until the stage came along, and he then consigned her to the care of the driver. mounting his horse he at once galloped off, and soon disappeared in the distance, making up for lost time. this was the exploit that was on everybody's tongue and in every newspaper. it was one of the most remarkable and desperate hand to hand encounters that has ever taken place on the border. i happened to meet wild bill at leavenworth as he was about to depart for rolla; he wished me to take charge of the government trains as a sort of assistant under him, and i gladly accepted the offer. arriving at rolla, we loaded the trains with freight and took them to springfield, missouri. on our return to rolla we heard a great deal of talk about the approaching fall races at st. louis, and wild bill having brought a fast running horse from the mountains, determined to take him to that city and match him against some of the high-flyers there; and down to st. louis we went with this running horse, placing our hopes very high on him. wild bill had no difficulty in making up a race for him. all the money that he and i had we put up on the mountain runner, and as we thought we had a sure thing, we also bet the horse against $250. i rode the horse myself, but nevertheless, our sure thing, like many another sure thing, proved a total failure, and we came out of that race minus the horse and every dollar we had in the world. before the race it had been "make or break" with us, and we got "broke." we were "busted" in the largest city we had ever been in, and it is no exaggeration to say that we felt mighty blue. on the morning after the race we went to the military headquarters, where bill succeeded in securing an engagement for himself as a government scout, but i being so young failed in obtaining similar employment. wild bill, however, raised some money, by borrowing it from a friend, and then buying me a steamboat ticket he sent me back to leavenworth, while he went to springfield, which place he made his headquarters while scouting in southeastern missouri. one night, after he had returned from a scouting expedition, he took a hand in a game of poker, and in the course of the game he became involved in a quarrel with dave tutt, a professional gambler, about a watch which he had won from tutt, who would not give it up. bill told him he had won it fairly, and that he proposed to have it; furthermore, he declared his intention of carrying the watch across the street next morning to military headquarters, at which place he had to report at nine o'clock. tutt replied that he would himself carry the watch across the street at nine o'clock, and no other man would do it. bill then said to tutt that if he attempted anything of the kind, he would kill him. a challenge to a duel had virtually been given and accepted, and everybody knew that the two men meant business. at nine o'clock the next morning, tutt started to cross the street. wild bill, who was standing on the opposite side, told him to stop. at that moment tutt, who was carrying his revolver in his hand, fired at bill but missed him. bill quickly pulled out his revolver and returned the fire, hitting tutt squarely in the forehead and killing him instantly. quite a number of tutt's friends were standing in the vicinity, having assembled to witness the duel, and bill, as soon as tutt fell to the ground, turned to them and asked if any one of them wanted to take it up for tutt; if so, he would accommodate any of them then and there. but none of them cared to stand in front of wild bill to be shot at by him. nothing of course was ever done to bill for the killing of tutt. chapter xi. a soldier. in the fall of 1861 i made a trip to fort larned, kansas, carrying military dispatches, and in the winter i accompanied george long through the country, and assisted him in buying horses for the government. the next spring, 1862, an expedition against the indians was organized, consisting of a volunteer regiment, the ninth kansas, under colonel clark. this expedition, which i had joined in the capacity of guide and scout, proceeded to the kiowa and comanche country, on the arkansas river, along which stream we scouted all summer between fort lyon and fort larned, on the old santa fe trail. we had several engagements with the indians, but they were of no great importance. in the winter of 1862, i became one of the "red legged scouts,"--a company of scouts commanded by captain tuff. among its members were some of the most noted kansas rangers, such as red clark, the st. clair brothers, jack harvey, an old pony express-rider named johnny fry, and many other well known frontiersmen. our field of operations was confined mostly to the arkansas country and southwestern missouri. we had many a lively skirmish with the bushwhackers and younger brothers, and when we were not hunting them, we were generally employed in carrying dispatches between forts dodge, gibson, leavenworth, and other posts. whenever we were in leavenworth we had a very festive time. we usually attended all the balls in full force, and "ran things" to suit ourselves. thus i passed the winter of 1862 and the spring of 1863. subsequently i engaged to conduct a small train to denver for some merchants, and on reaching that place in september, i received a letter stating that my mother was not expected to live. i hastened home, and found her dangerously ill. she grew gradually worse, and at last, on the 22d of november, 1863, she died. thus passed away a loving and affectionate mother and a noble, brave, good and loyal woman. that i loved her above all other persons, no one who has read these reminiscences can for a moment doubt. previous to this said event my sister julia had been married to a gentleman named j.a. goodman, and they now came to reside at our house and take charge of the children, as my mother had desired that they should not be separated. mr. goodman became the guardian of the minor children. i soon left the home now rendered gloomy by the absence of her whom i had so tenderly loved, and going to leavenworth i entered upon a dissolute and reckless life--to my shame be it said--and associated with gamblers, drunkards, and bad characters generally. i continued my dissipation about two months, and was becoming a very "hard case." about this time the seventh kansas regiment, known as "jennison's jay-hawkers," returned from the war, and re-enlisted and re-organized as veterans. among them i met quite a number of my old comrades and neighbors, who tried to induce me to enlist and go south with them. i had no idea of doing anything of the kind; but one day, after having been under the influence of bad whisky, i awoke to find myself a soldier in the seventh kansas. i did not remember how or when i had enlisted, but i saw i was in for it, and that it would not do for me to endeavor to back out. in the spring of 1864 the regiment was ordered to tennessee, and we got into memphis just about the time that general sturgis was so badly whipped by general forrest. general a. j. smith re-organized the army to operate against forrest, and after marching to tupalo, mississippi, we had an engagement with him and defeated him. this kind of fighting was all new to me, being entirely different from any in which i had ever before engaged. i soon became a non-commissioned officer, and was put on detached service as a scout. after skirmishing around the country with the rest of the army for some little time, our regiment returned to memphis, but was immediately ordered to cape girardeau, in missouri, as a confederate force under general price was then raiding that state. the command of which my regiment was a part hurried to the front to intercept price, and our first fight with him occurred at pilot knob. from that time for nearly six weeks we fought or skirmished every day. i was still acting as a scout, when one day i rode ahead of the command, some considerable distance, to pick up all possible information concerning price's movements. i was dressed in gray clothes, or missouri jeans, and on riding up to a farm-house and entering, i saw a man, also dressed in gray costume, sitting at a table eating bread and milk. he looked up as i entered, and startled me by saying: "you little rascal, what are you doing in those 'secesh' clothes?" judge of my surprise when i recognized in the stranger my old friend and partner, wild bill, disguised as a confederate officer. "i ask you the same question, sir," said i without the least hesitation. "hush! sit down and have some bread and milk, and we'll talk it all over afterwards," said he. i accepted the invitation and partook of the refreshments. wild bill paid the woman of the house, and we went out to the gate where my horse was standing. "billy, my boy," said he, "i am mighty glad to see you. i haven't seen or heard of you since we got busted on that st. louis' horse-race." "what are you doing out here?" i asked. "i am a scout under general mcniel. for the last few days i have been with general marmaduke's division of price's army, in disguise as a southern officer from texas, as you see me now," said he. "that's exactly the kind of business that i am out on to-day," said i; "and i want to get some information concerning price's movements." "i'll give you all that i have;" and he then went on and told me all that he knew regarding price's intentions, and the number and condition of his men. he then asked about my mother, and when he learned that she was dead he was greatly surprised and grieved; he thought a great deal of her, for she had treated him almost as one of her own children. he finally took out a package, which he had concealed about his person, and handing it to me he said: "here are some letters which i want you to give to general mcniel." "all right," said i as i took them, "but where will i meet you again?" "never mind that," he replied; "i am getting so much valuable information that i propose to stay a little while longer in this disguise." thereupon we shook hands and parted. it is not necessary to say much concerning price's raid in general, as that event is a matter of recorded history. i am only relating the incidents in which i was personally interested either as one of the actors or as an observer. another interesting and i may say exciting episode happened to me a day or two after my unexpected meeting with wild bill. i was riding with the advance guard of our army, and wishing a drink of water, i stopped at a farmhouse. there were no men about the premises, and no one excepting a very fine and intellectual looking lady and her two daughters. they seemed to be almost frightened to death at seeing me--a "yank"--appear before them. i quieted their fears somewhat, and the mother then asked me how far back the army was. when i told her it would be along shortly, she expressed her fears that they would take everything on the premises. they set me out a lunch and treated me rather kindly, so that i really began to sympathize with them; for i knew that the soldiers would ransack their house and confiscate everything they could lay their hands on. at last i resolved to do what i could to protect them. after the generals and the staff officers had passed by, i took it upon myself to be a sentry over the house. when the command came along some of the men rushed up with the intention of entering the place and carrying off all the desirable plunder possible, and then tearing and breaking everything to pieces, as they usually did along the line of march. "halt!" i shouted; "i have been placed here by the commanding officer as a guard over this house, and no man must enter it." this stopped the first squad; and seeing that my plan was a success, i remained at my post during the passage of the entire command and kept out all intruders. it seemed as if the ladies could not thank me sufficiently for the protection i had afforded them. they were perfectly aware of the fact that i had acted without orders and entirely on my own responsibility, and therefore they felt the more grateful. they urgently invited me to remain a little while longer and partake of an excellent dinner which they said they were preparing for me. i was pretty hungry about that time, as our rations had been rather slim of late, and a good dinner was a temptation i could not withstand, especially as it was to be served up by such elegant ladies. while i was eating the meal, i was most agreeably entertained by the young ladies, and before i had finished it the last of the rear-guard must have been at least two miles from the house. suddenly three men entered the room, and i looked up and saw three double-barreled shot-guns leveled straight at me. before i could speak, however, the mother and her daughters sprang between the men and me. "father! boys! lower your guns! you must not shoot this man," and similar exclamations, were the cry of all three. the guns were lowered, and then the men, who were the father and brothers of the young ladies, were informed of what i had done for them. it appeared that they had been concealed in the woods near by while the army was passing, and on coming into the house and finding a yankee there, they determined to shoot him. upon learning the facts, the old man extended his hand to me, saying: "i would not harm a hair of your head for the world; but it is best that you stay here no longer, as your command is some distance from here now, and you might be cut off by bushwhackers before reaching it." bidding them all good-bye, and with many thanks from the mother and daughters, i mounted my horse and soon overtook the column, happy in the thought that i had done a good deed, and with no regrets that i had saved from pillage and destruction the home and property of a confederate and his family. our command kept crowding against price and his army until they were pushed into the vicinity of kansas city, where their further advance was checked by united states troops from kansas; and then was begun their memorable and extraordinary retreat back into kansas. while both armies were drawn up in skirmish line near fort scott, kansas, two men on horseback were seen rapidly leaving the confederate lines, and suddenly they made a dash towards us. instantly quick volleys were discharged from the confederates, who also began a pursuit, and some five hundred shots were fired at the flying men. it was evident that they were trying to reach our lines, but when within about a quarter of a mile of us, one of them fell from his horse to rise no more. he had been fatally shot. his companion galloped on unhurt, and seven companies of our regiment charged out and met him, and checked his pursuers. the fugitive was dressed in confederate uniform, and as he rode into our lines i recognized him as wild bill, the union scout. he immediately sought generals pleasanton and mcniel, with whom he held a consultation. he told them that although price made a bold showing on the front, by bringing all his men into view, yet he was really a great deal weaker than the appearance of his lines would indicate; and that he was then trying to cross a difficult stream four miles from fort scott. it was late in the afternoon, but general pleasanton immediately ordered an advance, and we charged in full force upon the rear of price's army, and drove it before us for two hours. if wild bill could have made his successful dash into our lines earlier in the day, the attack would have been made sooner, and greater results might have been expected. the confederates had suspected him of being a spy for two or three days, and had watched him too closely to allow an opportunity to get away from them sooner. his unfortunate companion who had been shot, was a scout from springfield, missouri, whose name i cannot now remember. from this time on, wild bill and myself continued to scout together until price's army was driven south of the arkansas river and the pursuit abandoned. we then returned to springfield, missouri, for a rest and for supplies, and wild bill and myself spent two weeks there in "having a jolly good time," as some people would express it. chapter xii. a wedding. it was during the winter of 1864-65, while i was on detached service at military headquarters, at st. louis, that i became acquainted with a young lady named louisa frederici, whom i greatly admired and in whose charming society i spent many a pleasant hour. the war closing in 1865, i was discharged, and after a brief visit at leavenworth i returned to st. louis, having made up my mind to capture the heart of miss frederici, whom i now adored above any other young lady i had ever seen. her lovely face, her gentle disposition and her graceful manners won my admiration and love; and i was not slow in declaring my sentiments to her. the result was that i obtained her consent to marry me in the near future, and when i bade her good-bye i considered myself one of the happiest of men. meantime i drove a string of horses from leavenworth to fort kearney, where i met my old friend bill trotter, who was then division stage agent. he employed me at once to drive stage between kearney and plum creek, the road running near the spot where i had my first indian fight with the mccarthy brothers, and where i killed my first indian, nearly nine years before. i drove stage over this route until february, 1866, and while bounding over the cold, dreary road day after day, my thoughts turned continually towards my promised bride, until i at last determined to abandon staging forever, and marry and settle down. immediately after coming to this conclusion, i went to st. louis, where i was most cordially received by my sweetheart; it was arranged between us that our wedding should take place on the 6th day of march, following. at last the day arrived, and the wedding ceremony was performed at the residence of the bride's parents, in the presence of a large number of invited friends, whose hearty congratulations we received. i was certainly to be congratulated, for i had become possessed of a lovely and noble woman, and as i gazed upon her as she stood beside me arrayed in her wedding costume, i indeed felt proud of her; and from that time to this i have always thought that i made a most fortunate choice for a life partner. an hour after the ceremony we--my bride and myself--were on board of a missouri river steamboat, bound for our new home in kansas. my wife's parents had accompanied us to the boat, and had bidden us a fond farewell and a god-speed on our journey. during the trip up the river several very amusing, yet awkward incidents occurred, some of which i cannot resist relating. there happened to be on board the boat an excursion party from lexington, missouri, and those comprising it seemed to shun me, for some reason which i could not then account for. they would point at me, and quietly talk among themselves, and eye me very closely. their actions seemed very strange to me. after the boat had proceeded some little distance, i made the acquaintance of several families from indiana, who were _en route_ to kansas. a gentleman, who seemed to be the leader of these colonists, said to me, "the people of this excursion party don't seem to have any great love for you." "what does it mean?" i asked; "what are they saying? it's all a mystery to me." "they say that you are one of the kansas jay-hawkers, and one of jennison's house burners," replied the gentleman. "i am from kansas--that's true; and was a soldier and a scout in the union army," said i; "and i was in kansas during the border ruffian war of 1856. perhaps these people know who i am, and that explains their hard looks." i had a lengthy conversation with this gentleman--for such he seemed to be--and entertained him with several chapters of the history of the early kansas troubles, and told him the experiences of my own family. in the evening the lexington folks got up a dance, but neither the indiana people, my wife or myself were invited to join them. my new-found friend thereupon came to me and said: "mr. cody, let us have a dance of our own." "very well," was my reply. "we have some musicians along with us, so we can have plenty of music," remarked the gentleman. "good enough!" said i, "and i will hire the negro barber to play the violin for us. he is a good fiddler, as i heard him playing only a little while ago." the result was that we soon organized a good string band and had a splendid dance, keeping it up as long as the lexington party did theirs. the second day out from st. louis, the boat stopped to wood up, at a wild-looking landing. suddenly twenty horsemen were seen galloping up through the timber, and as they came nearer the boat they fired on the negro deckhands, against whom they seemed to have a special grudge, and who were engaged in throwing wood on board. the negroes all quickly jumped on the boat and pulled in the gang plank, and the captain had only just time to get the steamer out into the stream before the bushwhackers--for such they proved to be--appeared on the bank. "where is the black abolition jay-hawker?" shouted the leader. "show him to us, and we'll shoot him," yelled another. but as the boat had got well out in the river by this time, they could not board us, and the captain ordering a full head of steam, pulled out and left them. i afterwards ascertained that some of the missourians, who were with the excursion party, were bushwhackers themselves, and had telegraphed to their friends from some previous landing that i was on board, telling them to come to the landing which we had just left, and take me off. had the villains captured me they would have undoubtedly put an end to my career, and the public would never have had the pleasure of being bored by this autobiography. i noticed that my wife felt grieved over the manner in which these people had treated me. just married, she was going into a new country, and seeing how her husband was regarded, how he had been shunned, and how his life had been threatened, i was afraid she might come to the conclusion too soon that she had wedded a "hard customer." so when the boat landed at kansas city i telegraphed to some of my friends in leavenworth that i would arrive there in the evening. my object was to have my acquaintances give me a reception, so that my wife could see that i really did have some friends, and was not so bad a man as the bushwhackers tried to make out. just as i expected, when the boat reached leavenworth, i found a general round-up of friends at the landing to receive us. there were about sixty gentlemen and ladies. they had a band of music with them, and we were given a fine serenade. taking carriages, we all drove to south leavenworth to the home of my sister eliza, who had married george myers, and there we were given a very handsome reception. all this cheered up my wife, who concluded that i was not a desperado after all. having promised my wife that i would abandon the plains, i rented a hotel in salt creek valley--the same house by the way, which my mother had formerly kept, but which was then owned by dr. j.j. crook, late surgeon of the 7th kansas. this hotel i called the golden rule house, and i kept it until the next september. people generally said i made a good landlord, and knew how to run a hotel--a business qualification which, it is said, is possessed by comparatively few men. but it proved too tame employment for me, and again i sighed for the freedom of the plains. believing that i could make more money out west on the frontier than i could at salt creek valley, i sold out the golden rule house, and started alone for saline, kansas, which was then the end of the track of the kansas pacific railway, which was at that time being built across the plains. on my way i stopped at junction city, where i again met my old friend wild bill, who was scouting for the government; his headquarters being at fort ellsworth, afterwards called fort harker. he told me that they needed more scouts at this post, and i accordingly accompanied him to that fort, where i had no difficulty in obtaining employment. during the winter of 1866-67, i scouted between fort ellsworth and fort fletcher. in the spring of 1867 i was at fort fletcher, when general custer came out to go on an indian expedition with general hancock. i remained at this post until it was drowned out by the heavy floods of big creek, on which it was located; the water rose about the fortifications and rendered the place unfit for occupancy; so the government abandoned the fort, and moved the troops and supplies to a new post--which had been named fort hays--located further west, on the south fork of big creek. it was while scouting in the vicinity of fort hays that i had my first ride with the dashing and gallant custer, who had come up to the post from fort ellsworth with an escort of only ten men. he wanted a guide to pilot him to fort larned, a distance of sixty-five miles across the country. i was ordered by the commanding officer to guide general custer to his desired destination, and i soon received word from the general that he would start out in the morning with the intention of making the trip in one day. early in the morning, after a good night's rest, i was on hand, mounted on my large mouse-colored mule--an animal of great endurance--and ready for the journey; when the general saw me, he said: "cody, i want to travel fast and go through as quickly as possible, and i don't think that mule of yours is fast enough to suit me." "general, never mind the mule," said i, "he'll get there as soon as your horses. that mule is a good one," as i knew that the animal was better than most horses. "very well; go ahead, then," said he, though he looked as if he thought i would delay the party on the road. for the first fifteen miles, until we came to the smoky hill river, which we were to cross, i could hardly keep the mule in advance of the general, who rode a frisky, impatient and ambitious thoroughbred steed; in fact, the whole party was finely mounted. the general repeatedly told me that the mule was "no good," and that i ought to have had a good horse. but after crossing the river and striking the sand-hills, i began letting my mule out a little, and putting the "persuaders" to him. he was soon out-traveling the horses, and by the time we had made about half the distance to fort larned, i occasionally had to wait for the general or some of his party, as their horses were beginning to show signs of fatigue. "general, how about this mule, anyhow?" i asked, at last. "cody, you have a better vehicle than i thought you had," was his reply. from that time on to fort larned i had no trouble in keeping ahead of the party. we rode into the fort at four o'clock in the afternoon with about half the escort only, the rest having lagged far behind. general custer thanked me for having brought him straight across the country without any trail, and said that if i were not engaged as post scout at fort hays he would like to have me accompany him as one of his scouts during the summer; and he added that whenever i was out of employment, if i would come to him he would find something for me to do. this was the beginning of my acquaintance with general custer, whom i always admired as a man and as an officer. [illustration: general custer] a few days after my return to fort hays, the indians made a raid on the kansas pacific railroad, killing five or six men and running off about one hundred horses and mules. the news was brought to the commanding officer, who immediately ordered major arms, of the tenth cavalry--which, by the way, was a negro regiment,--with his company and one mountain howitzer, to go in pursuit of the red-skins, and i was sent along with the expedition as scout and guide. on the second day out we suddenly discovered, on the opposite side of the saline river, about a mile distant, a large body of indians, who were charging down upon us. major arms, placing the cannon on a little knoll, limbered it up and left twenty men to guard it; and then, with the rest of the command, he crossed the river to meet the indians. just as he had got the men over the stream, we heard a terrific yelling and shouting in our rear, and looking back to the knoll where the cannon had been stationed, we saw the negroes, who had been left there to guard the gun, flying towards us, being pursued by about one hundred indians; while another large party of the latter were dancing around the captured cannon, as if they had got hold of an elephant and did not know what to do with it. major arms turned his command back and drove the indians from the gun. the troops then dismounted and took position there. quite a severe fight ensued, lasting about two hours. five or six of the soldiers, as well as major arms, were wounded, and several of the horses were shot. the indians seemed to grow thicker and thicker, as if receiving reinforcements from some large party. the colored troops, who had been bragging all the way that if they could only see some indians "dey would blow 'em off de farm,"--which was a favorite expression of theirs,--were now singing a different tune. every time the indians would make a charge at us, the darkeys would cry out: "heah dey cum;" "dey must be ten thousand ob 'em;" "de whole country is alive wid 'em;" "massa bill, does you tink we is eber agoin' to get out o' heah?" and many other similar expressions. major arms, who was wounded and lying under the cannon--which, by the way, had become useless,--called me up and asked if i thought there was any show of getting back to the fort. i replied that there was. orders were accordingly given by major arms for a retreat, the cannon being left behind. during the movement several of our men were killed, but as night came and dense darkness prevailed, we succeeded in making good headway, and got into fort hays just at daylight next morning, in a very played-out condition. during our absence the cholera had broken out at the post, and five or six men were dying daily. it was difficult to tell which was the greater danger--fighting indians on the prairie, or facing the cholera in camp; but the former was decidedly the more inviting. chapter xiii. a millionaire. soon after returning to fort hays, i was sent with dispatches to fort harker. after delivering the messages, i visited the town of ellsworth, about three miles west of fort harker, and there i met a man named william rose, a contractor on the kansas pacific railroad, who had a contract for grading near fort hays. he had had his stock stolen by the indians, and had come to ellsworth to buy more. during the course of our conversation, mr. rose incidentally remarked that he had some idea of laying out a town on the west side of big creek, about one mile from the fort, where the railroad was to cross. he asked my opinion of the contemplated enterprise, and i told him that i thought it was "a big thing." he then proposed taking me as a partner in the scheme, and suggested that after we got the town laid out and thrown open to the public, we should establish a store and saloon there. thinking it would be a grand thing to be half-owner of a town, i at once accepted his proposition. we bought a stock of such articles as are usually found in a frontier store, and transported them to the place on big creek, where we were to found our town. we hired a railroad engineer to survey the site and stake it off into lots; and we gave the new town the ancient and historical name of rome. to a "starter," we donated lots to any one who would build on them, but reserved the corner lots and others which were best located for ourselves. these reserved lots we valued at fifty dollars each. our modern rome, like all mushroom towns along the line of a new railroad, sprang up as if by magic, and in less than one month we had two hundred frame and log houses, three or four stores, several saloons, and one good hotel. rome was looming up, and rose and i already considered ourselves millionaires, and thought we "had the world by the tail." but one day a fine-looking gentleman, calling himself dr. w.e. webb, appeared in town, and dropping into our store introduced himself in a very pleasant way. "gentlemen, you've got a very flourishing little town here. wouldn't you like to have a partner in your enterprise?" "no, thank you," said i, "we have too good a thing here to whack up with anybody." my partner agreed with me, but the conversation was continued, and at last the stranger said: "gentlemen, i am the agent or prospector of the kansas pacific railroad, and my business is to locate towns for the company along the line." "we think we have the only suitable town-site in this immediate locality," said mr. rose, "and as a town is already started, we have saved the company considerable expense." "you know as well as i do," said dr. webb, "that the company expects to make money by selling lands and town lots; and as you are not disposed to give the company a show, or share with me, i shall probably have to start another town near you. competition is the life of trade, you know." "start your town, if you want to. we've got the 'bulge' on you, and can hold it," said i, somewhat provoked at his threat. but we acted too independently and too indiscreetly for our own good dr. webb, the very next day after his interview with us, began hauling material to a spot about one mile east of us, where he staked out a new town, which he called hays city. he took great pains to circulate in our town the story that the railroad company would locate their round-houses and machine shops at hays city, and that it was to be _the_ town and a splendid business center. a ruinous stampede from our place was the result. people who had built in rome came to the conclusion that they had built in the wrong place; they began pulling down their buildings and moving them over to hays city, and in less than three days our once flourishing city had dwindled down to the little store which rose and i had built. it was on a bright summer morning that we sat on a pine box in front of our crib, moodily viewing the demolition of the last building. three days before, we had considered ourselves millionaires; on that morning we looked around and saw that we were reduced to the ragged edge of poverty. our sanguine expectations of realizing immense fortunes were dashed to the ground, and we felt pretty blue. the new town of hays had swallowed rome entirely. mr. rose facetiously remarked that he felt like "the last rose of summer," with all his lovely companions faded and gone, and _he_ left blooming alone. i told him i was still there, staunch and true, but he replied that that didn't help the matter much. thus ends the brief history of the "rise, decline and fall" of modern rome. it having become evident to me that there was very little hope of rome ever regaining its former splendor and prosperity, i sent my wife and daughter arta--who had been born at leavenworth in the latter part of december, 1866--to st. louis on a visit. they had been living with me for some little time in the rear part of our "store." at this time mr. rose and myself had a contract under schumacher, miller & co., constructors of the kansas pacific, for grading five miles of track westward from big creek, and running through the site of rome. notwithstanding we had been deserted, we had some small hope that they would not be able to get water at the new town, and that the people would all soon move back to rome, as we really had the best location. we determined, therefore, to go on with our grading contract, and wait for something better to turn up. it was indeed hard for us, who had been millionaires, to come down to the level of common railroad contractors-but we had to do it, all the same. we visited the new town of hays almost daily, to see how it was progressing, and in a short time we became much better acquainted with dr. webb, who had reduced us from our late independent to our present dependent position. we found him a perfect gentleman--a whole-souled, genial-hearted fellow, whom everybody liked and respected. nearly every day, "doc." and i would take a ride over the prairie together and hunt buffalo. on one occasion, having ventured about ten miles from the town, we spied a band of indians not over two miles distant, who were endeavoring to get between us and the town, and thus cut us off. i was mounted on my celebrated horse brigham, the fleetest steed i ever owned. on several subsequent occasions he saved my life, and he was the horse that i rode when i killed sixty-nine buffaloes in one day. dr. webb was riding a beautiful thoroughbred bay, which he had brought with him from the east. having such splendid horses, we laughed at the idea of a band of indians overtaking us on a square run, no matter how well they might be mounted; but not caring to be cut off by them, we ran our steeds about three miles towards home, thus getting between the braves and the town. the indians were then about three-quarters of a mile distant, and we stopped and waved our hats at them, and fired some shots at long range. there were thirteen in the party, and as they were getting pretty close to us, we struck out for hays. they came on in pursuit and sent several scattering shots after us, but we easily left them behind. they finally turned and rode off towards the saline river. the doctor thought this glorious sport, and wanted to organize a party to go in pursuit of them, but i induced him to give up this idea, although he did so rather reluctantly. the doctor soon became quite an expert hunter, and before he had remained on the prairie a year there were but few men in the country who could kill more buffaloes on a hunt than he. being aware that rose and myself felt rather downhearted over our deserted village, the doctor one day said that, as he had made the proprietors of rome "howl," he would give us two lots each in hays, and did so. we finally came to the conclusion that our old town was dead beyond redemption or revival, and we thereupon devoted our undivided attention to our railroad contract. one day we were pushed for horses to work on our scrapers--so i hitched up brigham, to see how he would work. he was not much used to that kind of labor, and i was about giving up the idea of making a work-horse of him, when one of the men called to me that there were some buffaloes coming over the hill. as there had been no buffaloes seen anywhere in the vicinity of the camp for several days, we had become rather short of meat. i immediately told one of our men to hitch his horses to a wagon and follow me, as i was going out after the herd, and we would bring back some fresh meat for supper. i had no saddle, as mine had been left at the camp a mile distant, so taking the harness from brigham, i mounted him bareback and started out after the game, being armed with my celebrated buffalo-killer, "lucretia borgia,"--a newly-improved breech-loading needle gun, which i had obtained from the government. while i was riding toward the buffaloes i observed five horsemen coming out from the fort, who had evidently seen the buffaloes from the post, and were going out for a chase. they proved to be some newly-arrived officers in that part of the country, and when they came up closer, i could see by the shoulder straps that the senior officer was a captain, while the others were lieutenants. "hello! may friend," sang out the captain, "i see you are after the same game we are." "yes, sir; i saw those buffaloes coming over the hill, and as we were about out of fresh meat i thought i would go and get some," said i. they scanned my cheap-looking outfit pretty closely, and as my horse was not very prepossessing in appearance, having on only a blind bridle, and otherwise looking like a work-horse they evidently considered me a green hand at hunting. "do you expect to catch those buffaloes on that gothic steed?" laughingly asked the captain. "i hope so, by pushing on the reins hard enough," was my reply. "you'll never catch them in the world, my fine fellow," said the captain. "it requires a fast horse to overtake the animals on these prairies." "does it?" asked i as if i didn't know it. "yes; but come along with us as we are going to kill them more for pleasure than anything else. all we want are the tongues and a piece of tender loin, and you may have all that is left," said the generous man. "i am much obliged to you, captain, and will follow you," i replied. there were eleven buffaloes in the herd and they were not more than a mile from us. the officers dashed ahead as if they had a sure thing on killing them all before i could come up with them; but i had noticed that the herd was making towards the creek for water, and as i knew buffalo nature, i was perfectly aware that it would be difficult to turn them from their direct course. thereupon, i started towards the creek to head them off, while the officers came up in the rear and gave chase. the buffaloes came rushing past me not a hundred yards distant, with the officers about three hundred yards in the rear. now, thought i, is the time to "get my work in," as they say; and i pulled the blind-bridle from my horse, who knew as well as i did that we were out for buffaloes--as he was a trained hunter. the moment the bridle was off, he started at the top of his speed, running in ahead of the officers, and with a few jumps he brought me alongside of the rear buffalo. raising old "lucretia borgia" to my shoulder, i fired, and killed the animal at the first shot. my horse then carried me alongside the next one, not ten feet away, and i dropped him at the next fire. as soon as one buffalo would fall, brigham would take me so close to the next, that i could almost touch it with my gun. in this manner i killed the eleven buffaloes with twelve shots; and, as the last animal dropped, my horse stopped. i jumped to the ground, knowing that he would not leave me--it must be remembered that i had been riding him without bridle, reins or saddle--and turning round as the party of astonished officers rode up, i said to them: "now, gentlemen, allow me to present to you all the tongues and tender-loins you wish from these buffaloes." [illustration: tongues and tender loins.] captain graham, for such i soon learned was his name, replied: "well, i never saw the like before. who under the sun are you, anyhow?" "my name is cody," said i. one of the lieutenants, thompson by name, who had met me at fort harker, then recognized me, and said: "why, that is bill cody, our old scout." he then introduced me to the other officers, who were captain graham, of the tenth cavalry, and lieutenants reed, emmick and ezekiel. captain graham, who was considerable of a horseman, greatly admired brigham, and said: "that horse of yours has running points." "yes, sir; he has not only got the points, he is a runner and knows how to use the points," said i. "so i noticed," said the captain. they all finally dismounted, and we continued chatting for some little time upon the different subjects of horses, buffaloes, indians and hunting. they felt a little sore at not getting a single shot at the buffaloes, but the way i had killed them had, they said, amply repaid them for their disappointment. they had read of such feats in books, but this was the first time they had ever seen anything of the kind with their own eyes. it was the first time, also, that they had ever witnessed or heard of a white man running buffaloes on horseback without a saddle or a bridle. i told them that brigham knew nearly as much about the business as i did, and if i had had twenty bridles they would have been of no use to me, as he understood everything, and all that he expected of me was to do the shooting. it is a fact, that brigham would stop if a buffalo did not fall at the first fire, so as to give me a second chance, but if i did not kill the buffalo then, he would go on, as if to say, "you are no good, and i will not fool away time by giving you more than two shots." brigham was the best horse i ever owned or saw for buffalo chasing. our conversation was interrupted in a little while by the arrival of the wagon which i had ordered out; i loaded the hind-quarters of the youngest buffaloes on it, and then cut out the tongues and tender loins, and presented them to the officers, after which i rode towards the fort with them, while the wagon returned to camp. captain graham told me that he expected to be stationed at fort hays during the summer, and would probably be sent out on a scouting expedition, and in case he was he would like to have me accompany him as scout and guide. i replied that notwithstanding i was very busy with my railroad contract i would go with him if he was ordered out. i then left the officers and returned to our camp. that very night the indians unexpectedly made a raid on the horses, and ran off five or six of our very best work-teams, leaving us in a very crippled condition. at daylight i jumped on old brigham and rode to fort hays, when i reported the affair to the commanding officer; captain graham and lieutenant emmick were at once ordered out with their company of one hundred colored troops, to pursue the indians and recover our stock if possible. in an hour we were under way. the darkies had never been in an indian fight and were anxious to catch the band we were after and "sweep de red debels from off de face ob de earth." captain graham was a brave, dashing officer, eager to make a record for himself, and it was with difficulty that i could trail fast enough to keep out of the way of the impatient soldiers. every few moments captain graham would ride up to see if the trail was freshening and how soon we should be likely to overtake the thieves. at last we reached the saline river, where we found the indians had only stopped to feed and water the animals, and had then pushed on towards the solomon. after crossing the saline they made no effort to conceal their trail, thinking they would not be pursued beyond that point--consequently we were able to make excellent time. we reached the soloman before sunset, and came to a halt; we surmised that if the indians were camped on this river, that they had no suspicion of our being in the neighborhood. i advised captain graham to remain with the company where it was, while i went ahead on a scout to find the indians, if they were in the vicinity. after riding some distance down the ravine that led to the river, i left my horse at the foot of a hill; then, creeping to the top, i looked cautiously over the summit upon the solomon, below. i at once discovered in plain view, not a mile away, a herd of horses grazing, our lost ones among them; very shortly i made out the indian camp, noted its lay, and how we could best approach it. reporting to captain graham, whose eyes fairly danced with delight at the prospect of surprising and whipping the redskins, we concluded to wait until the moon rose, then get into the timber so as to approach the indians as closely as possible without being discovered, and finally to make a sudden dash into their camp, and clean them out. we had everything "cut and dried," as we thought, but, alas! just as we were nearing the point where we were to take the open ground and make our charge, one of the colored gentlemen became so excited that he fired off his gun. we immediately commenced the charge, but the firing of the gun and the noise of our rush through the crackling timber alarmed the indians, who at once sprang to their horses and were away from us before we reached their late camp. captain graham called out "follow me boys!" which we did for awhile, but in the darkness the indians made good their escape. the bugle then gave the re-call, but some of the darkies did not get back until morning, having, in their fright, allowed their horses to run away with them whithersoever it suited the animal's pleasure to go. [illustration: the indian horse thieves.] we followed the trail the next day for awhile, but as it become evident that it would be a long chase to overtake the enemy, and as we had rations only for the day, we commenced the return. captain graham was bitterly disappointed in not being able to get the fight when it seemed so near at one time. he roundly cursed the "nigger" who fired the gun, and as a punishment for his carelessness, he was compelled to walk all the way back to fort hays. chapter xiv. earning a title. it was about this time that the end of the kansas pacific track was in the heart of the buffalo country, and the company was employing about twelve hundred men in the construction of the road. as the indians were very troublesome, it was difficult to obtain fresh meat for the workmen, and the company therefore concluded to engage the services of hunters to kill buffaloes. having heard of my experience and success as a buffalo hunter, messrs. goddard brothers, who had the contract for boarding the employees of the road, met me in hays city one day and made me a good offer to become their hunter, and i at once entered into a contract with them. they said that they would require about twelve buffaloes per day; that would be twenty-four hams, as we took only the hind-quarters and hump of each buffalo. as this was to be dangerous work, on account of the indians, who were riding all over that section of the country, and as i would be obliged to go from five to ten miles from the road each day to hunt the buffaloes, accompanied by only one man with a light wagon for the transportation of the meat, i of course demanded a large salary. they could afford to remunerate me well, because the meat would not cost them anything. they agreed to give me five hundred dollars per month, provided i furnished them all the fresh meat required. leaving my partner, rose, to complete our grading contract, i immediately began my career as a buffalo hunter for the kansas pacific railroad, and it was not long before i acquired considerable notoriety. it was at this time that the very appropriate name of "buffalo bill," was conferred upon me by the road-hands. it has stuck to me ever since, and i have never been ashamed of it. during my engagement as hunter for the company--a period of less than eighteen mouths--i killed 4,280 buffaloes; and i had many exciting adventures with the indians, as well as hair-breadth escapes, some of which are well worth relating. one day in the spring of 1868, i mounted brigham and started for smoky hill river. after galloping about twenty miles i reached the top of a small hill overlooking the valley of that beautiful stream. as i was gazing on the landscape, i suddenly saw a band of about thirty indians nearly half a mile distant; i knew by the way they jumped on their horses that they had seen me as soon as i came into sight. the only chance i had for my life was to make a run for it, and i immediately wheeled and started back towards the railroad. brigham seemed to understand what was up, and he struck out as if he comprehended that it was to be a run for life. he crossed a ravine in a few jumps, and on reaching a ridge beyond, i drew rein, looked back and saw the indians coming for me at full speed and evidently well-mounted. i would have had little or no fear of being overtaken if brigham had been fresh; but as he was not, i felt uncertain as to how he would stand a long chase. [illustration: buffalo bill.] my pursuers seemed to be gaining on me a little, and i let brigham shoot ahead again; when we had run about three miles farther, some eight or nine of the indians were not over two hundred yards behind, and five or six of these seemed to be shortening the gap at every jump. brigham now exerted himself more than ever, and for the next three or four miles he got "right down to business," and did some of the prettiest running i ever saw. but the indians were about as well-mounted as i was, and one of their horses in particular--a spotted animal--was gaining on me all the time. nearly all the other horses were strung out behind for a distance of two miles, but still chasing after me. [illustration: down went his horse.] the indian who was riding the spotted horse was armed with a rifle, and would occasionally send a bullet whistling along, sometimes striking the ground ahead of me. i saw that this fellow must be checked, or a stray bullet from his gun might hit me or my horse; so, suddenly stopping brigham, and quickly wheeling him around, i raised old "lucretia" to my shoulder, took deliberate aim at the indian and his horse, hoping to hit one or the other, and fired. he was not over eighty yards from me at this time, and at the crack of my rifle down went his horse. not waiting to see if he recovered, i turned brigham, and in a moment we were again fairly flying towards our destination; we had urgent business about that time, and were in a hurry to get there. the other indians had gained on us while i was engaged in shooting at their leader, and they sent several shots whizzing past me, but fortunately none of them hit the intended mark. to return their compliment i occasionally wheeled myself in the saddle and fired back at them, and one of my shots broke the leg of one of their horses, which left its rider _hors(e) de combat_, as the french would say. only seven or eight indians now remained in dangerous proximity to me, and as their horses were beginning to lag somewhat, i checked my faithful old steed a little, to allow him an opportunity to draw an extra breath or two. i had determined, if it should come to the worst, to drop into a buffalo wallow, where i could stand the indians off for a while; but i was not compelled to do this, as brigham carried me through most nobly. the chase was kept up until we came within three miles of the end of the railroad track, where two companies of soldiers were stationed for the purpose of protecting the workmen from the indians. one of the outposts saw the indians chasing me across the prairie, and gave the alarm. in a few minutes i saw, greatly to my delight, men coming on foot, and cavalrymen, too, came galloping to our rescue as soon as they could mount their horses. when the indians observed this, they turned and ran in the direction from which they had come. in a very few minutes i was met by some of the infantrymen and trackmen, and jumping to the ground and pulling the blanket and saddle off of brigham, i told them what he had done for me; they at once took him in charge, led him around, and rubbed him down so vigorously that i thought they would rub him to death. captain nolan, of the tenth cavalry, now came up with forty of his men, and upon learning what had happened he determined to pursue the indians. he kindly offered me one of the cavalry horses, and after putting my own saddle and bridle on the animal, we started out after the flying indians, who only a few minutes before had been making it so uncomfortably lively for me. our horses were all fresh and of excellent stock, and we soon began shortening the distance between ourselves and the redskins. before they had gone five miles we overtook and killed eight of their number. the others succeeded in making their escape. on coming up to the place where i had killed the first horse--the spotted one--on my "home run," i found that my bullet had struck him in the forehead and killed him instantly. he was a noble animal, and ought to have been engaged in better business. when we got back to camp i found old brigham grazing quietly and contentedly on the grass. he looked up at me as if to ask if we had got away with any of those fellows who had chased us. i believe he read the answer in my eyes. another very exciting hunting adventure of mine which deserves a place in these reminiscences occurred near saline river. my companion at the time was a man called scotty, a butcher, who generally accompanied me on these hunting expeditions to cut up the buffaloes and load the meat into a light wagon which he brought to carry it in. he was a brave little fellow and a most excellent shot. i had killed some fifteen buffaloes, and we had started for home with a wagon-load of meat. when within about eight miles of our destination, we suddenly ran on to a party of at least thirty indians who came riding out of the head of a ravine. on this occasion i was mounted on a most excellent horse belonging to the railroad company, and could easily have made my escape; but of course i could not leave scotty who was driving a pair of mules hitched to the wagon. to think was to act, in those days; and as scotty and i had often talked over a plan of defense in case we were ever surprised by indians, we instantly proceeded to carry it out. we jumped to the ground, unhitched the mules quicker than it had ever been done before, and tied them and my horse to the wagon. we threw the buffalo hams upon the ground, and piled them around the wheels in such a shape as to form a breastwork. all this was done in a shorter time than it takes to tell it; and then, with our extra box of ammunition and three or four extra revolvers, which we always carried along with us, we crept under the wagon and were fully prepared to give our visitors the warmest kind of a reception. the indians came on pell-mell, but when they were within one hundred yards of us we opened such a sudden and galling fire upon them, that they held up and began to circle around the wagon instead of riding up to take tea with us. they however charged back and forth upon us several times, and their shots killed the two mules and my horse; but we gave it to them right and left, and had the satisfaction of seeing three of them fall to the ground not more than fifty yards away. on seeing how well we were fortified and protected by our breastwork of hams, they probably came to the conclusion that it would be a difficult undertaking to dislodge us, for they drew off and gave us a rest, but only a short one. this was the kind of fighting we had been expecting for a long time, as we knew that sooner or later we would be "jumped" by indians while we were out buffalo hunting. i had an understanding with the officers who commanded the troops at the end of the track, that in case their pickets should at any time notice a smoke in the direction of our hunting ground, they were to give the alarm, so that assistance might be sent to us for the smoke was to indicate that we were in danger. i now resolved to signal to the troops in the manner agreed on, and at the first opportunity set fire to the grass on the windward side of the wagon. the fire spread over the prairie at a rapid rate, causing a dense smoke which i knew would be seen at the camp. the indians did not seem to understand this strategic movement. they got off from their horses, and from behind a bank or knoll, again peppered away at us; but we were well fortified, and whenever they showed their heads we let them know that we could shoot as well as they. [illustration: the fire signal.] after we had been cooped up in our little fort, for about an hour, we discovered cavalry coming toward us at full gallop over the prairie. our signal of distress had proved a success. the indians saw the soldiers at about the same time that we did, and thinking that it would not be healthy for them to remain much longer in that vicinity, they mounted their horses and disappeared down the caã±ons of the creek. when the soldiers came up we had the satisfaction of showing them five "_good_" indians, that is dead ones. two hours later we pulled into camp with our load of meat, which was found to be all right, except that it had a few bullets and arrows sticking in it. while i was hunting for the kansas pacific railway, i had the pleasure, in the fall of 1867, of meeting the celebrated kit carson, one of, if not the oldest and most noted scout, guide, and hunter that our western country has ever produced. he was on his way to washington. i also met him on his return from the east, and invited him to be my guest for a few days at hays city, which invitation he accepted. he then proceeded to fort lyon, colorado, near which place his son-in-law, mr. boggs, and family, resided. at this time his health was failing, and shortly afterwards he died at mr. boggs' residence on the picket wire creek. [illustration: kit carson] chapter xv. champion buffalo killer. shortly after the adventures mentioned in the preceding chapter, i had my celebrated buffalo hunt with billy comstock, a noted scout, guide and interpreter, who was then chief of scouts at fort wallace, kansas. comstock had the reputation, for a long time, of being a most successful buffalo hunter, and the officers in particular, who had seen him kill buffaloes, were very desirous of backing him in a match against me. it was accordingly arranged that i should shoot him a buffalo-killing match, and the preliminaries were easily and satisfactorily agreed upon. we were to hunt one day of eight hours, beginning at eight o'clock in the morning, and closing at four o'clock in the afternoon. the wager was five hundred dollars a side, and the man who should kill the greater number of buffaloes from on horseback was to be declared the winner. the hunt took place about twenty miles east of sheridan, and as it had been pretty well advertised and noised abroad, a large crowd witnessed the interesting and exciting scene. an excursion party, mostly from st. louis, consisting of about a hundred gentlemen and ladies, came out on a special train to view the sport, and among the number was my wife, with little baby arta, who had come to remain with me for a while. the buffaloes were quite plenty, and it was agreed that we should go into the same herd at the same time and "make a run," as we called it, each one killing as many as possible. a referee was to follow each of us on horseback when we entered the herd, and count the buffaloes killed by each man. the st. louis excursionists, as well as the other spectators, rode out to the vicinity of the hunting grounds in wagons and on horseback, keeping well out of sight of the buffaloes, so as not to frighten them, until the time came for us to dash into the herd; when they were to come up as near as they pleased and witness the chase. we were fortunate in the first run in getting good ground. comstock was mounted on one of his favorite horses, while i rode old brigham. i felt confident that i had the advantage of comstock in two things--first, i had the best buffalo horse that ever made a track; and second, i was using what was known at that time as the needle-gun, a breech-loading springfield rifle--calibre 50,--it was my favorite old "lucretia," which has already been introduced to the notice of the reader; while comstock was armed with a henry rifle, and although he could fire a few shots quicker than i could, yet i was pretty certain that it did not carry powder and lead enough to do execution equal to my calibre 50. at last the time came to begin the match. comstock and i dashed into a herd, followed by the referees. the buffaloes separated; comstock took the left bunch and i the right. my great _forte_ in killing buffaloes from horseback was to get them circling by riding my horse at the head of the herd, shooting the leaders, thus crowding their followers to the left, till they would finally circle round and round. on this morning the buffaloes were very accommodating, and i soon had them running in a beautiful circle, when i dropped them thick and fast, until i had killed thirty-eight; which finished my run. comstock began shooting at the rear of the herd, which he was chasing, and they kept straight on. he succeeded, however, in killing twenty-three, but they were scattered over a distance of three miles, while mine lay close together. i had "nursed" my buffaloes, as a billiard-player does the balls when he makes a big run. after the result of the first run had been duly announced, our st. louis excursion friends--who had approached to the place where we had stopped--set out a lot of champagne, which they had brought with them, and which proved a good drink on a kansas prairie, and a buffalo hunter was a good man to get away with it. while taking a short rest, we suddenly spied another herd of buffaloes coming toward us. it was only a small drove, and we at once prepared to give the animals a lively reception. they proved to be a herd of cows and calves--which, by the way, are quicker in their movements than the bulls. we charged in among them, and i concluded my run with a score of eighteen, while comstock killed fourteen. the score now stood fifty-six to thirty-seven, in my favor. again the excursion party approached, and once more the champagne was tapped. after we had eaten a lunch which was spread for us, we resumed the hunt. striking out for a distance of three miles, we came up close to another herd. as i was so far ahead of my competitor in the number killed, i thought i could afford to give an extra exhibition of my skill. i had told the ladies that i would, on the next run, ride my horse without saddle or bridle. this had raised the excitement to fever heat among the excursionists, and i remember one fair lady who endeavored to prevail upon me not to attempt it. "that's nothing at all," said i; "i have done it many a time, and old brigham knows as well as i what i am doing, and sometimes a great deal better." so, leaving my saddle and bridle with the wagons, we rode to the windward of the buffaloes, as usual, and when within a few hundred yards of them we dashed into the herd. i soon had thirteen laid out on the ground, the last one of which i had driven down close to the wagons, where the ladies were. it frightened some of the tender creatures to see the buffalo coming at full speed directly toward them; but when he had got within fifty yards of one of the wagons, i shot him dead in his tracks. this made my sixty-ninth buffalo, and finished my third and last run, comstock having killed forty-six. as it was now late in the afternoon, comstock and his backers gave up the idea that he could beat me, and thereupon the referees declared me the winner of the match, as well as the champion buffalo-hunter of the plains.[a] [footnote a: poor billy comstock was afterwards treacherously murdered by the indians. he and sharpe grover visited a village of indians, supposed to be peaceably inclined, near big spring station, in western kansas; and after spending several hours with the redskins in friendly conversation, they prepared to depart, having declined an invitation to pass the night there. it appears that comstock's beautiful white-handled revolver had attracted the attention of the indians, who overtook him and his companion when they had gone about half a mile. after surrounding the two men they suddenly attacked them. they killed, scalped and robbed comstock; but grover, although severely wounded, made his escape, owing to the fleetness of the excellent horse which he was riding. this sad event occurred august 27, 1868.] on our way back to camp, we took with us some of the choice meat and finest heads. in this connection it will not be out of place to state that during the time i was hunting for the kansas pacific, i always brought into camp the best buffalo heads, and turned them over to the company, who found a very good use for them. they had them mounted in the best possible manner, and sent them to all the principal cities and railroad centers in the country, having them placed in prominent positions at the leading hotels, dã©pã´ts, and other public buildings, as a sort of trade-mark, or advertisement, of the kansas pacific railroad; and to-day they attract the attention of the traveler almost everywhere. whenever i am traveling over the country and see one of these trade-marks, i feel pretty certain that i was the cause of the death of the old fellow whose body it once ornamented, and many a wild and exciting hunt is thus called to mind. the end of the track finally reached sheridan, in the month of may, 1868, and as the road was not to be built any farther just then, my services as a hunter were not any longer required. at this time there was a general indian war raging all along the western borders. general sheridan had taken up his headquarters at fort hayes, in order to be in the field to superintend the campaign in person. as scouts and guides were in great demand, i concluded once more to take up my old avocation of scouting and guiding for the army. having no suitable place in which to leave my old and faithful buffalo-hunter brigham, and not wishing to kill him by scouting, i determined to dispose of him. i was very reluctant to part with him, but i consoled myself with the thought that he would not be likely to receive harder usage in other hands than he had in mine. i had several good offers to sell him; but at the suggestion of some gentlemen in sheridan, all of whom were anxious to obtain possession of the horse, i put him up at a raffle, in order to give them all an equal chance of becoming the owner of the famous steed. there were ten chances at thirty dollars each, and they were all quickly taken. old brigham was won by a gentleman--mr. ike bonham,--who took him to wyandotte, kansas, where he soon added new laurels to his already brilliant record. although i am getting ahead of my story, i must now follow brigham for a while. a grand tournament came off four miles from wyandotte, and brigham took part in it. as has already been stated, his appearance was not very prepossessing, and nobody suspected him of being anything but the most ordinary kind of a plug. the friends of the rider laughed at him for being mounted on such a dizzy-looking steed. when the exercises--which were of a very tame character, being more for style than speed--were over, and just as the crowd were about to return to the city, a purse of $250 was made up, to be given to the horse that could first reach wyandotte, four miles distant. the arrangement was carried out, and brigham was entered as one of the contestants for the purse. everybody laughed at mr. bonham when it became known that he was to ride that poky-looking plug against the five thoroughbreds which were to take part in the race. when all the preliminaries had been arranged, the signal was given, and off went the horses for wyandotte. for the first half-mile several of the horses led brigham, but on the second mile he began passing them one after the other, and on the third mile he was in advance of them all, and was showing them all the road at a lively rate. on the fourth mile his rider let him out, and arrived at the hotel--the home-station--in wyandotte a long way ahead of his fastest competitor. everybody was surprised, as well as disgusted, that such a homely "critter" should be the winner. brigham, of course, had already acquired a wide reputation, and his name and exploits had often appeared in the newspapers, and when it was learned that this "critter" was none other than the identical buffalo-hunting brigham, nearly the whole crowd admitted that they had heard of him before, and had they known him in the first place they certainly would have ruled him out. i finally lost track of brigham, and for several years i did not know what had become of him. three years ago, while i was at memphis, tennessee, i met a mr. wilcox, who had been one of the superintendents of construction of the kansas pacific railroad, and he informed me that he owned brigham, and that he was at that time on his farm, only a few miles out of town. the next day i rode out with mr. wilcox and took a look at the gallant old horse. he was comfortably cared for in mr. wilcox's stable, and looked the same clever pony that he always was. it seemed as if he almost remembered me, and i put my arms around his neck, as though he had been a long-lost child. mr. wilcox bought the horse at wyandotte, from the gentleman who had won him at the raffle, and he intends to keep him as long as he lives. i am grateful that he is in such good hands, and whenever i again visit memphis i shall surely go and see brigham if he is still alive. but to return to the thread of my narrative, from which i have wandered. having received the appointment of guide and scout, and having been ordered to report at fort larned, then commanded by captain dangerfield parker, i saw it was necessary to take my family--who had remained with me at sheridan, after the buffalo-hunting match--to leavenworth, and there leave them. this i did at once, and after providing them with a comfortable little home, i returned and reported for duty at fort larned. chapter xvi. a courier. the scouts at fort larned, when i arrived there, were commanded by dick curtis--an old guide, frontiersman and indian interpreter. there were some three hundred lodges of kiowa and comanche indians camped near the fort. these indians had not as yet gone upon the war-path, but were restless and discontented, and their leading chiefs, satanta, lone wolf, kicking bird, satank, sittamore, and other noted warriors, were rather saucy. the post at the time was garrisoned by only two companies of infantry and one of cavalry. general hazen, who was at the post, was endeavoring to pacify the indians and keep them from going on the war-path. i was appointed as his special scout, and one morning he notified me that he was going to fort harker, and wished me to accompany him as far as fort zarah, thirty miles distant. the general usually traveled in an ambulance, but this trip he was to make in a six-mule wagon, under the escort of a squad of twenty infantrymen. so, early one morning in august, we started; arriving safely at fort zarah at twelve o'clock. general hazen thought it unnecessary that we should go farther, and he proceeded on his way to fort harker without an escort, leaving instructions that we should return to fort larned the next day. after the general had gone i went to the sergeant in command of the squad, and told him that i was going back that very afternoon, instead of waiting till the next morning; and i accordingly saddled up my mule and set out for fort larned. i proceeded uninterruptedly until i got about half-way between the two posts, when at pawnee rock i was suddenly "jumped" by about forty indians, who came dashing up to me, extending their hands and saying, "how! how!" they were some of the same indians who had been hanging around fort larned in the morning. i saw that they had on their war-paint, and were evidently now out on the war-path. [illustration: a big joke.] my first impulse was to shake hands with them, as they seemed so desirous of it. i accordingly reached out my hand to one of them, who grasped it with a tight grip, and jerked me violently forward; another pulled my mule by the bridle, and in a moment i was completely surrounded. before i could do anything at all, they had seized my revolvers from the holsters, and i received a blow on the head from a tomahawk which nearly rendered me senseless. my gun, which was lying across the saddle, was snatched from its place, and finally the indian, who had hold of the bridle, started off towards the arkansas river, leading the mule, which was being lashed by the other indians who were following. the savages were all singing, yelling and whooping, as only indians can do, when they are having their little game all their own way. while looking towards the river i saw, on the opposite side, an immense village moving down along the bank, and then i became convinced that the indians had left the post and were now starting out on the war-path. my captors crossed the stream with me, and as we waded through the shallow water they continued to lash the mule and myself. finally they brought me before an important looking body of indians, who proved to be the chiefs and principal warriors. i soon recognized old satanta among them, as well as others whom i knew, and i supposed it was all over with me. the indians were jabbering away so rapidly among themselves that i could not understand what they were saying. satanta at last asked me where i had been; and, as good luck would have it, a happy thought struck me. i told him i had been after a herd of cattle or "whoa-haws," as they called them. it so happened that the indians had been out of meat for several weeks, as the large herd of cattle which had been promised them had not yet arrived, although expected by them. the moment that i mentioned that i had been searching for the "whoa-haws," old satanta began questioning me in a very eager manner. he asked me where the cattle were, and i replied that they were back only a few miles, and that i had been sent by general hazen to inform him that the cattle were coming, and that they were intended for his people. this seemed to please the old rascal, who also wanted to know if there were any soldiers with the herd, and my reply was that there were. thereupon the chiefs held a consultation, and presently satanta asked me if general hazen had really said that they should have the cattle. i replied in the affirmative, and added that i had been directed to bring the cattle to them. i followed this up with a very dignified inquiry, asking why his young men had treated me so. the old wretch intimated that it was only "a freak of the boys"; that the young men had wanted to see if i was brave; in fact, they had only meant to test my bravery, and that the whole thing was a joke. the veteran liar was now beating me at my own game of lying; but i was very glad of it, as it was in my favor. i did not let him suspect that i doubted his veracity, but i remarked that it was a rough way to treat friends. he immediately ordered his young men to give me back my arms, and scolded them for what they had done. of course, the sly old dog was now playing it very fine, as he was anxious to get possession of the cattle, with which he believed "there was a heap of soldiers coming." he had concluded it was not best to fight the soldiers if he could get the cattle peaceably. another council was held by the chiefs, and in a few minutes old satanta came and asked me if i would go over and bring the cattle down to the opposite side of the river, so that they could get them. i replied, "of course; that's my instruction from general hazen." satanta said i must not feel angry at his young men, for they had only been acting in fun. he then inquired if i wished any of his men to accompany me to the cattle herd. i replied that it would be better for me to go alone, and then the soldiers could keep right on to fort larned, while i could drive the herd down on the bottom. so, wheeling my mule around, i was soon re-crossing the river, leaving old satanta in the firm belief that i had told him a straight story, and was going for the cattle, which only existed in my imagination. i hardly knew what to do, but thought that if i could get the river between the indians and myself i would have a good three-quarters of a mile the start of them, and could then make a run for fort larned, as my mule was a good one. thus far my cattle story had panned out all right; but just as i reached the opposite bank of the river, i looked behind and saw that ten or fifteen indians who had begun to suspect something crooked, were following me. the moment that my mule secured a good foothold on the bank, i urged him into a gentle lope towards the place where, according to my statement, the cattle were to be brought. upon reaching a little ridge, and riding down the other side out of view, i turned my mule and headed him westward for fort larned. i let him out for all that he was worth, and when i came out on a little rise of ground, i looked back, and saw the indian village in plain sight. my pursuers were now on the ridge which i had passed over, and were looking for me in every direction. presently they spied me, and seeing that i was running away, they struck out in swift pursuit, and in a few minutes it became painfully evident that they were gaining on me. they kept up the chase as far as ash creek, six miles from fort larned. i still led them half a mile, as their horses had not gained much during the last half of the race. my mule seemed to have gotten his second wind, and as i was on the old road i had played the whip and spurs on him without much cessation. the indians likewise had urged their steeds to the utmost. finally, upon reaching the dividing ridge between ash greek and pawnee fork, i saw fort larned only four miles away. it was now sundown, and i heard the evening gun at the fort. the troops of the garrison little dreamed that there was a man flying for his life from the indians and trying to reach the post. the indians were once more gaining on me, and when i crossed the pawnee fork, two miles from the post, two or three of them were only a quarter of a mile behind me. just as i had gained the opposite bank of the stream i was overjoyed to see some soldiers in a government wagon, only a short distance off. i yelled at the top of my voice, and riding up to them, told them that the indians were after me. [illustration: ambushing the indians.] denver jim, a well-known scout, asked how many there were, and upon my informing him that there were about a dozen, he said: "let's drive the wagon into the trees, and we'll lay for 'em." the team was hurriedly driven in among the trees and low box-elder bushes, and there secreted. we did not have to wait long for the indians, who came dashing up, lashing their horses, which were panting and blowing. we let two of them pass by, but we opened a lively fire on the next three or four, killing two at the first crack. the others following, discovered that they had run into an ambush, and whirling off into the brush they turned and ran back in the direction whence they had come. the two who had passed heard the firing and made their escape. we scalped the two that we had killed, and appropriated their arms and equipments; and then catching their horses, we made our way into the post. the soldiers had heard us firing, and as we were approaching the fort the drums were being beaten, and the buglers were sounding the call to fall in. the officers had thought that satanta and his indians were coming in to capture the fort. it seems that on the morning of that day, two hours after general hazen had taken his departure, old satanta drove into the post in an ambulance, which he had received some months before as a present from the government. he appeared to be angry and bent on mischief. in an interview with captain parker, the commanding officer, he asked why general hazen had left the post without supplying the beef cattle which had been promised to him. the captain told him that the cattle were surely on the road, but he could not explain why they were detained. the interview proved to be a stormy one, and satanta made numerous threats, saying that if he wished, he could capture the whole post with his warriors. captain parker, who was a brave man, gave satanta to understand that he was reckoning beyond his powers, and would find it a more difficult undertaking than he had any idea of, as they were prepared for him at any moment. the interview finally terminated, and satanta angrily left the officers presence. going over to the sutler's store he sold his ambulance to mr. tappan the past trader, and with a portion of the proceeds he secretly managed to secure some whisky from some bad men around the fort. there are always to be found around every frontier post some men who will sell whisky to the indians at any time and under any circumstances, notwithstanding it is a flagrant violation of both civil and military regulations. satanta mounted his horse, and taking the whisky with him, he rode rapidly away and proceeded straight to his village. he had not been gone over an hour, when he returned to the vicinity of the post accompanied by his warriors who came in from every direction, to the number of seven or eight hundred. it was evident that the irate old rascal was "on his ear," so to speak, and it looked as if he intended to carry out his threat of capturing the fort. the garrison at once turned out and prepared to receive the red-skins, who, when within half a mile, circled around the fort and fired numerous shots into it, instead of trying to take it by assault. while this circular movement was going on, it was observed that the indian village in the distance was packing up, preparatory to leaving, and it was soon under way. the mounted warriors remained behind some little time, to give their families an opportunity to get away, as they feared that the troops might possibly in some manner intercept them. finally, they encircled the post several times, fired some farewell rounds, and then galloped away over the prairie to overtake their fast departing village. on their way thither, they surprised and killed a party of wood-choppers down on the pawnee fork, as well as some herders who were guarding beef cattle; some seven or eight men in all, were killed, and it was evident that the indians meant business. the soldiers with the wagon--whom i had met at the crossing of the pawnee fork--had been out for the bodies of the men. under the circumstances it was no wonder that the garrison, upon hearing the reports of our guns when we fired upon the party whom we ambushed, should have thought the indians were coming back to give them another "turn." we found that all was excitement at the post; double guards had been put on duty, and captain parker had all the scouts at his headquarters. he was endeavoring to get some one to take some important dispatches to general sheridan at fort hays. i reported to him at once, and stated where i had met the indians and how i had escaped from them. "you was very fortunate, cody, in thinking of that cattle story; but for that little game your hair would now be an ornament to a kiowa's lodge," said he. just then dick curtis spoke up and said: "cody, the captain is anxious to send some dispatches to general sheridan, at fort hays, and none of the scouts here seem to be very willing to undertake the trip. they say they are not well enough acquainted with the country to find the way at night." as a storm was coming up it was quite dark, and the scouts feared that they would lose the way; besides it was a dangerous ride, as a large party of indians were known to be camped on walnut creek, on the direct road to fort hays. it was evident that curtis was trying to induce me to volunteer. i made some evasive answer to curtis, for i did not care to volunteer after my long day's ride. but curtis did not let the matter drop. said he: "i wish, bill, that you were not so tired by your chase of to-day, for you know the country better than the rest of the boys, and i am certain that you could go through." "as far as the ride to fort hays is concerned, that alone would matter but little to me," i said, "but it is a risky piece of work just now, as the country is full of hostile indians; still if no other scout is willing to volunteer, i will chance it. i'll go, provided i am furnished with a good horse. i am tired of being chased on a government mule by indians." at this captain nolan, who had been listening to our conversation, said: "bill, you may have the best horse in my company. you can take your choice if you will carry these dispatches. although it is against regulations to dismount an enlisted man, i have no hesitancy in such a case of urgent necessity as this is, in telling you that you may have any horse you may wish." "captain, your first sergeant has a splendid horse, and that's the one i want. if he'll let me ride that horse, i'll be ready to start in one hour, storm or no storm," said i. "good enough, bill; you shall have the horse; but are you sure you can find your way on such a dark night as this?" "i have hunted on nearly every acre of ground between here and fort hays, and i can almost keep my route by the bones of the dead buffaloes." i confidently replied. "never fear, captain, about cody not finding the way; he is as good in the dark as he is in the daylight," said curtis. an orderly was sent for the horse, and the animal was soon brought up, although the sergeant "kicked" a little against letting him go. after eating a lunch and filling a canteen with brandy, i went to headquarters and put my own saddle and bridle on the horse i was to ride. i then got the dispatches, and by ten o'clock was on the road to fort hays, which was sixty-five miles distant across the country. the scouts had all bidden me a hearty good-bye, and wished me success, not knowing when, if ever, they would again gaze upon "my warlike form," as the poet would say. it was dark as pitch, but this i rather liked, as there was little probability of any of the red-skins seeing me unless i stumbled upon them accidentally. my greatest danger was that my horse might run into a hole and fall down, and in this way get away from me. to avoid any such accident, i tied one end of my rawhide lariat to the bridle and the other end to my belt. i didn't propose to be left on foot, alone out on the prairie. [illustration: whoa there!] it was, indeed, a wise precaution that i had taken, for within the next three miles the horse, sure enough, stepped into a prairie-dog's hole, and down he went, throwing me clear over his head. springing to his feet, before i could catch hold of the bridle, he galloped away into the darkness; but when he reached the full length of the lariat, he found that he was picketed to bison william. i brought him up standing, and after finding my gun, which had dropped to the ground, i went up to him and in a moment was in the saddle again, and went on my way rejoicing keeping straight on my course until i came to the ravines leading into walnut creek, twenty-five miles from fort larned, where the country became rougher, requiring me to travel slower and more carefully, as i feared the horse might fall over the bank, it being difficult to see anything five feet ahead. as a good horse is not very apt to jump over a bank, if left to guide himself, i let mine pick his own way. i was now proceeding as quietly as possible, for i was in the vicinity of a band of indians who had recently camped in that locality. i thought that i had passed somewhat above the spot, having made a little circuit to the west with that intention; but as bad luck would have it this time, when i came up near the creek i suddenly rode in among a herd of horses. the animals became frightened and ran off in every direction. i knew at once that i was among indian horses, and had walked into the wrong pew; so without waiting to apologize, i backed out as quickly as possible. at this moment a dog, not fifty yards away, set up a howl, and then i heard some indians engaged in conversation;--they were guarding the horses, and had been sleeping. hearing my horse's retreating footsteps toward the hills, and thus becoming aware that there had been an enemy in their camp, they mounted their steeds and started for me. i urged my horse to his full speed, taking the chances of his falling into holes, and guided him up the creek bottom. the indians followed me as fast as they could by the noise i made, but i soon distanced them; and then crossed the creek. when i had traveled several miles in a straight course, as i supposed, i took out my compass and by the light of a match saw that i was bearing two points to the east of north. at once changing my course to the direct route, i pushed rapidly on through the darkness towards smoky hill river. at about three o'clock in the morning i began traveling more cautiously, as i was afraid of running into another band of indians. occasionally i scared up a herd of buffaloes or antelopes, or coyotes, or deer, which would frighten my horse for a moment, but with the exception of these slight alarms i got along all right. after crossing smoky hill river, i felt comparatively safe as this was the last stream i had to cross. riding on to the northward i struck the old santa fe trail, ten miles from fort hays, just at break of day. my horse did not seem much fatigued, and being anxious to make good time and get as near the post as possible before it was fairly daylight as there might be bands of indians camped along big creek, i urged him forward as fast as he could go. as i had not "lost" any indians, i was not now anxious to make their acquaintance, and shortly after _reveille_ rode into the post. i proceeded directly to general sheridan's headquarters, and, was met at the door, by colonel moore, _aid-de-camp_ on general sheridan's staff who asked me on what business i had come. "i have dispatches for general sheridan, and my instructions from captain parker, commanding fort larned, are that they shall be delivered to the general as soon as possible," said i. colonel moore invited me into one of the offices, and said he would hand the dispatches to t h e general as soon as he got up. [illustration: delivering dispatches to sheridan.] "i prefer to give these dispatches to general sheridan myself, and at once," was my reply. the general, who was sleeping in the same building, hearing our voices, called out, "send the man in with the dispatches." i was ushered into the general's presence, and as we had met before he recognized me and said: "hello, cody, is that you?" "yes, sir; i have some dispatches here for you, from captain parker," said i, as i handed the package over to him. he hurriedly read them, and said they were important; and then he asked me all about general hazen and where he had gone, and about the breaking out of the kiowas and comanches. i gave him all the information that i possessed, and related the events and adventures of the previous day and night. "bill," said he, "you must have had a pretty lively ride. you certainly had a close call when you ran into the indians on walnut creek. that was a good joke that you played on old satanta. i suppose you're pretty tired after your long journey?" "i am rather weary, general, that's a fact, as i have been in the saddle since yesterday morning;" was my reply, "but my horse is more tired than i am, and needs attention full as much if not more," i added. thereupon the general called an orderly and gave instructions to have my animal well taken care of, and then he said, "cody, come in and have some breakfast with me." "no, thank you, general," said i, "hays city is only a mile from here, and i prefer riding over there, as i know about every one in the town, and want to see some of my friends." "very well; do as you please, and come to the post afterwards as i want to see you," said he. bidding him good-morning, and telling him that i would return in a few hours, i rode over to hays city, and at the perry house i met many of my old friends who were of course all glad to see me. i took some refreshments and a two hours nap, and afterward returned to fort hays, as i was requested. as i rode up to the headquarters i noticed several scouts in a little group, evidently engaged in conversation on some important matter. upon inquiry i learned that general sheridan had informed them that he was desirous of sending a dispatch to fort dodge, a distance of ninety-five miles. the indians had recently killed two or three men while they were carrying dispatches between fort hays and fort dodge, and on this account none of the scouts seemed at all anxious to volunteer, although a reward of several hundred dollars was offered to any one who would carry the dispatches. they had learned of my experiences of the previous day, and asked me if i did not think it would be a dangerous trip. i gave it as my opinion that a man might possibly go through without seeing an indian, but that the chances were ten to one that he would have an exceedingly lively run and a hard time before he reached his destination, if he ever got there at all. leaving the scouts to decide among themselves as to who was to go, i reported to general sheridan, who also informed me that he wished some one to carry dispatches to fort dodge. while we were talking, his chief of scouts dick parr, entered and stated that none of the scouts had yet volunteered. upon hearing this i got my "brave" up a little, and said: "general, if there is no one ready to volunteer, i'll carry your dispatches myself." "i had not thought of asking you to do this duty, cody, as you are already pretty hard worked. but it is really important that these dispatches should go through," said the general. "well, if you don't get a courier by four o'clock this afternoon, i'll be ready for business at that time. all i want is a fresh horse," said i; "meantime i'll take a little more rest." it was not much of a rest, however, that i got, for i went over to hays city again and had "a time with the boys." i came back to the post at the appointed hour, and finding that no one had volunteered, i reported to general sheridan. he had selected an excellent horse for me, and on handing me the dispatches he said: "you can start as soon as you wish--the sooner the better; and good luck go with you, my boy." in about an hour afterwards i was on the road, and just before dark i crossed smoky hill river. i had not yet urged my horse much, as i was saving his strength for the latter end of the route, and for any run that i might have to make in case the "wild-boys" should "jump" me. so far i had not seen a sign of indians, and as evening came on i felt comparatively safe. i had no adventures worth relating during the night, and just before daylight i found myself approaching saw-log crossing, on the pawnee fork, having then ridden about seventy miles. a company of colored cavalry, commanded by major cox, was stationed at this point, and i approached their camp cautiously, for fear that the pickets might fire upon me--as the darkey soldiers were liable to shoot first and cry "halt" afterwards. when within hearing distance i yelled out at the top of my voice, and was answered by one of the pickets. i told him not to shoot, as i was a scout from fort hays; and then, calling the sergeant of the guard, i went up to the vidette of the post, who readily recognized me. i entered the camp and proceeded to the tent of major cox, to whom i handed a letter from general sheridan requesting him to give me a fresh horse. he at once complied with the request. after i had slept an hour and had eaten a lunch, i again jumped into the saddle, and before sunrise i was once more on the road. it was twenty-five miles to fort dodge, and i arrived there between nine and ten o'clock, without having seen a single indian. after delivering the dispatches to the commanding officer, i met johnny austin, chief of scouts at this post, who was an old friend of mine. upon his invitation i took a nap at his house, and when i awoke, fresh for business once more, he informed me that the indians had been all around the post for the past two or three days, running off cattle and horses, and occasionally killing a stray man. it was a wonder to him that i had met with none of the red-skins on the way there. the indians, he said, were also very thick on the arkansas river, between fort dodge and fort larned, and making considerable trouble. fort dodge was located sixty-five miles west of fort larned, the latter post being on the pawnee fork, about five miles from its junction with the arkansas river. the commanding officer at fort dodge was anxious to send some dispatches to fort larned, but the scouts, like those at fort hays, were rather backward about volunteering, as it was considered a very dangerous undertaking to make the trip. as fort larned was my post, and as i wanted to go there anyhow, i said to austin that i would carry the dispatches, and if any of the boys wished to go along, i would like to have them for company's sake. austin reported my offer to the commanding officer, who sent for me and said he would be happy to have me take his dispatches, if i could stand the trip on top of all that i had already done. "all i want is a good fresh horse, sir," said i. "i am sorry to say that we haven't a decent horse here, but we have a reliable and honest government mule, if that will do you," said the officer. "trot out your mule," said i, "that's good enough for me. i am ready at any time, sir." the mule was forthcoming, and at dark i pulled out for fort larned, and proceeded uninterruptedly to coon creek, thirty miles out from dodge. i had left the main wagon road some distance to the south, and had traveled parallel with it, thinking this to be a safer course, as the indians might be lying in wait on the main road for dispatch bearers and scouts. at coon creek i dismounted and led the mule by the bridle down to the water, where i took a drink, using my hat for a dipper. while i was engaged in getting the water, the mule jerked loose and struck out down the creek. i followed him in hopes that he would catch his foot in the bridle rein and stop, but this he seemed to have no idea of doing. he was making straight for the wagon road, and i did not know what minute he might run into a band of indians. he finally got on the road, but instead of going back toward fort dodge, as i naturally expected he would do, he turned eastward toward fort larned, and kept up a little jog trot just ahead of me, but would not let me come up to him, although i tried it again and again. i had my gun in my hand, and several times i was strongly tempted to shoot him, and would probably have done so had it not been for fear of bringing indians down upon me, and besides he was carrying the saddle for me. so i trudged on after the obstinate "critter," and if there ever was a government mule that deserved and received a good round cursing it was that one. i had neglected the precaution of tying one end of my lariat to his bit and the other to my belt, as i had done a few nights before, and i blamed myself for this gross piece of negligence. mile after mile i kept on after that mule, and every once in a while i indulged in strong language respecting the whole mule fraternity. from coon creek to fort larned it was thirty-five miles, and i finally concluded that my prospects were good for "hoofing" the whole distance. we--that is to say, the confounded mule and myself--were making pretty good time. there was nothing to hold the mule, and i was all the time trying to catch him--which urged him on. i made every step count, for i wanted to reach fort larned before daylight, in order to avoid if possible the indians, to whom it would have been "pie" to have caught me there on foot. the mule stuck to the road and kept on for larned, and i did the same thing. just as day was beginning to break, we--that is the mule and myself--found ourselves on a hill looking down into the valley of the pawnee fork, in which fort larned was located, only four miles away; and when the morning gun belched forth we were within half a mile of the post. "now," said i, "mr. mule, it is my turn," and raising my gun to my shoulder, in "dead earnest" this time, i blazed away, hitting the animal in the hip. throwing a second cartridge into the gun, i let him have another shot, and i continued to pour the lead into him until i had him completely laid out. like the great majority of government mules, he was a tough one to kill, and he clung to life with all the tenaciousness of his obstinate nature. he was, without doubt, the toughest and meanest mule i ever saw, and he died hard. the troops, hearing the reports of the gun, came rushing out to see what was the matter. they found that the mule had passed in his chips, and when they learned the cause they all agreed that i had served him just right. taking the saddle and bridle from the dead body, i proceeded into the post and delivered the dispatches to captain parker. i then went over to dick curtis' house, which was headquarters for the scouts, and there put in several hours of solid sleep. during the day general hazen returned from fort harker, and he also had some important dispatches to send to general sheridan. i was feeling quite elated over my big ride; and seeing that i was getting the best of the other scouts in regard to making a record, i volunteered to carry general hazen's dispatches to fort hays. the general accepted my services, although he thought it was unnecessary for me to kill myself. i told him that i had business at fort hays, and wished to go there anyway, and it would make no difference to the other scouts, for none of them appeared willing to undertake the trip. accordingly, that night i left fort larned on an excellent horse, and next morning at daylight found myself once more in general sheridan's headquarters at fort hays. the general was surprised to see me, and still more so when i told him of the time i had made in riding to fort dodge, and that i had taken dispatches from fort dodge to fort larned; and when, in addition to this, i mentioned my journey of the night previous, general sheridan thought my ride from post to post, taken as a whole, was a remarkable one, and he said that he did not know of its equal. i can safely say that i have never heard of its being beaten in a country infested with hostile indians. to recapitulate: i had ridden from fort larned to fort zarah (a distance of sixty-five miles) and back in twelve hours, including the time when i was taken across the arkansas by the indians. in the succeeding twelve hours i had gone from fort larned to fort hays, a distance of sixty-five miles. in the next twenty-four hours i had gone from fort hays to fort dodge, a distance of ninety-five miles. the following night i had traveled from fort dodge thirty miles on muleback and thirty-five miles on foot to fort larned; and the next night sixty-five miles more to fort hays. altogether i had ridden (and walked) 355 miles in fifty-eight riding hours, or an average of over six miles an hour. of course, this may not be regarded as very fast riding, but taking into consideration the fact that it was mostly done in the night and over a wild country, with no roads to follow, and that i had to be continually on the look out for indians, it was thought at the time to be a big ride, as well as a most dangerous one. chapter xvii. an appointment. general sheridan highly complimented me for what i had done, and informed me that i need not report back to general hazen, as he had more important work for me to do. he told me that the fifth cavalry--one of the finest regiments in the army--was on its way to the department of the missouri, and that he was going to send it on an expedition against the dog soldier indians, who were infesting the republican river region. "cody," continued he, "i have decided to appoint you as guide and chief of scouts with the command. how does that suit you?" "first-rate, general, and i thank you for the honor," i replied, as gracefully as i knew how. the dog soldier indians were a band of cheyennes and unruly, turbulent members of other tribes, who would not enter into any treaty, or keep a treaty if they made one, and who had always refused to go upon a reservation. they were a warlike body of well-built, daring and restless braves, and were determined to hold possession of the country in the vicinity of the republican and solomon rivers. they were called "dog soldiers" because they were principally cheyennes--a name derived from the french _chien_, a dog. after my conversation with the general, i went over to hays city, where i met some of general forsyth's scouts, who had just returned from one of the severest battles ever fought with the indians. as it will not be out of place in this connection, i will here give a brief history of that memorable event. [illustration: general phil. sheridan.] the indians had become quite troublesome, and general sheridan had selected general george a. forsyth to go out on an expedition, and punish them for their recent depredations. there was a scarcity of troops at fort hays at that time, so general forsyth recruited a company of frontiersmen who could move rapidly, as they were to carry no luggage, and were to travel without the ordinary transportation. thirty of these frontiersmen came from fort harker, and twenty from fort hays. it was certainly a small body of men, but nearly every one of them was an experienced hunter, guide, scout and indian-fighter, and they could fight the red-skins in their own way. in four days they were prepared to take the field, and on the morning of the 29th of august, 1868, they rode out of fort hays to meet the indians. lieutenant f.h. beecher, of the third infantry, nephew of henry ward beecher, was second in command; brevet major-general w.h.h. mccall, who had been in the volunteer army, acted as first sergeant; dr. john mowers, of hays city, who had been a volunteer army surgeon, was the surgeon of the expedition; and sharpe grover was the chief guide. resting at fort wallace, they started september 10th, for the town of sheridan, thirteen miles distant, where a band of indians had attacked a train, killed two teamsters, and stolen some cattle. arriving at sheridan they easily found the indian trail, and followed it for some distance. on the eighth day out from fort wallace, the command went into camp late in the afternoon, on the arickaree, which was then not more than eight or nine feet wide at that point, and only two or three inches deep. it was evident to the men that they were not far from the indians, and it was decided that the next day they would find them and give them a fight. early next morning, september 19th, the cry of "indians" startled the command. every man jumped for his horse. a half-dozen red-skins, yelling and whooping and making a hideous racket, and firing their guns, rode up and attempted to stampede the horses, several of which, together with the four pack-mules, were so frightened that they broke loose and got away. the indians then rode off, followed by a few shots. in a minute afterwards, hundreds of indian warriors--it was estimated that there were nearly one thousand--came galloping down upon the command from every quarter, completely hemming them in. acting under the order of general forsyth, the men retreated to a small island, tied their horses in a circle to the bushes, and then, throwing themselves upon the ground, they began the defense by firing at the approaching enemy, who came pretty close and gave them a raking fire. the besieged scouts at the first opportunity threw up a small breastwork with their knives. the firing, however, continued back and forth, and early in the fight forsyth was twice seriously wounded--once in the right thigh, and once in the left leg. dr. mowers was also wounded in the head, and soon died. two other men had been killed, and several wounded. all the horses of the command were killed by nine o'clock in the morning. shortly afterwards over three hundred dog-soldier indians commanded by old "roman nose," charged down upon the little band of heroes, giving them volley after volley; but finally the scouts, at a favorable opportunity, returned their fire with telling effect. "roman nose" and "medicine man" were killed, and fell from their horses when within less than one rod of the scouts, who thereupon sent up a triumphant shout. the charging braves now weakened, and in a few moments they were driven back. it was a brilliant charge, and was most nobly and bravely repulsed. the scouts had again suffered severely, having several men wounded, among the number being lieutenant beecher who died that night. the indians, too, had had quite a number killed, several of whom had fallen close to the earthworks. the dismounted indian warriors still continued firing, but as the scouts had thrown up their intrenchments sufficiently to protect themselves by closely hugging the ground, little or no damage was done. a second charge was made by the mounted indians about two o'clock in the afternoon, and they were again repulsed with a severe loss. darkness finally came on, and then ensued a cessation of hostilities. two of the scouts had been killed, four fatally wounded, and fourteen others were wounded more or less severely. there were just twenty-eight able-bodied men left out of the fifty. the supplies had run out, and as dr. mowers had been mortally wounded and the medical stores captured, the wounded men could not be properly cared for. although they were entirely surrounded, and one hundred and ten miles from the nearest post, the men did not despair. they had an abundance of ammunition, plenty of water, under ground only a short distance, and for food they had their horses and mules. at night two of the scouts, tradeau and stillwell, stole through the lines of the indians, and started swiftly for fort wallace to obtain relief. it was a dangerous undertaking, but they were brave and experienced scouts. stillwell was only nineteen or twenty years old, but he was, in every sense of the word, a thoroughbred frontiersman. during the night the besieged scouts threw up their breastworks considerably higher and piled the dead animals on top. they dug down to water, and also stored away a lot of horse and mule meat in the sand to keep it fresh as long as possible. the indians renewed their firing next morning, and kept it up all day, doing but little injury, however, as the scouts were now well entrenched; but many an indian was sent to his happy hunting ground. [illustration: battle on the arickaree] night came again, and the prospects were indeed gloomy. an attempt was made by two more of the scouts to creep through the indian lines, but they were detected by the enemy and had to return to their comrades. the next morning the indians renewed hostilities as usual. their women and children began to disappear about noon, and then the indians tried to draw the scouts out by displaying a white flag for a truce. they appeared to want to have a talk with general forsyth, but as their treachery was well-known, the scouts did not fall into this trap. the indians had apparently become tired of fighting, especially as they found that they had a most stubborn foe to deal with. night once more threw its mantle over the scene, and under the cover of the darkness donovan and plyley, two of the best scouts, stealthily made their way out of the camp, and started for fort wallace with a dispatch from general forsyth, who gave a brief summary of the situation, and stated that if necessary he could hold out for six days longer. when the day dawned again, only a small number of warriors could be seen, and they probably remained to watch, the scouts and keep them corraled. the uninjured men attended to the wounded as well as they could under the adverse circumstances, but from want of proper treatment, evidences of gangrene appeared in some of the wounds on the sixth day. the mule and horse meat became totally unfit for use, but they had nothing else to eat, and had to eat it or starve. under these trying circumstances the general told the men that any who wished to go might do so, and take their chances; but they all resolved to remain, and die together, if need be. relief came at last. tradeau and stillwell had safely reached fort wallace, and on the morning of the 25th of september, colonel carpenter and a detachment of cavalry arrived with supplies. this assistance to the besieged and starving scouts came like a vessel to ship-wrecked men drifting and starving on a raft in mid-ocean. it was with the survivors of this terrible fight that i spent the few days at hays city, prior to the arrival of the fifth cavalry. chapter xviii. scouting. on the third day of october the fifth cavalry arrived at fort hays, and i at once began making the acquaintance of the different officers of the regiment. i was introduced by general sheridan to colonel william royal, who was in command of the regiment. he was a gallant officer, and an agreeable and pleasant gentleman. he is now stationed at omaha as inspector general in the department of the platte. i also became acquainted with major w.h. brown, major walker. captain sweetman, quartermaster e.m. hays, and in fact all the officers of the regiment. general sheridan, being anxious to punish the indians who had lately fought general forsyth, did not give the regiment much of a rest, and accordingly on the 5th of october it began its march for the beaver creek country. the first night we camped on the south fork of big creek, four miles west of hays city. by this time i had become pretty well acquainted with major brown and captain sweetman, who invited me to mess with them on this expedition; and a jolly mess we had. there were other scouts in the command besides myself, and i particularly remember tom renahan, hank fields and a character called "nosey" on account of his long nose. on the morning of the 6th we pulled out to the north, and during the day i was very favorably struck with the appearance of the regiment. it was a beautiful command, and when strung out on the prairie with a train of seventy-five six-mule wagons, ambulances and pack mules, i felt very proud of my position as guide and chief of scouts of such a warlike expedition. just as we were about to go into camp on the saline river that night, we ran on to a band of about fifteen indians, who, seeing us, dashed across the creek, followed by some bullets which we sent after them; but as the small band proved to be a scouting party, we pursued them only a mile or two, when our attention was directed to a herd of buffaloes--they being very plenty--and we succeeded in killing ten or fifteen for the command. the next day we marched thirty miles, and late in the afternoon we went into camp on the south fork of the solomon. at this encampment colonel royal asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for the boys. "all right, colonel, send along a wagon or two to bring in the meat," i said. "i am not in the habit of sending out my wagons until i know that there is something to be hauled in; kill your buffalo first and then i'll send out the wagons," was the colonel's reply. i said no more, but went out on a hunt, and after a short absence returned and asked the colonel to send his wagons over the hill for the half dozen buffaloes i had killed. the following afternoon he again requested me to go out and get some fresh buffalo meat. i didn't ask him for any wagons this time, but rode out some distance, and coming up with a small herd, i managed to get seven of them headed straight for the encampment, and instead of shooting them just then, i ran them at full speed right into the camp, and then killed them all, one after the other in rapid succession. colonel royal witnessed the whole proceeding, which puzzled him somewhat, as he could see no reason why i had not killed them on the prairie. he came up, rather angrily, and demanded an explanation. "i can't allow any such business as this, cody," said he, "what do you mean by it?" "i didn't care about asking for any wagons this time, colonel; so i thought i would make the buffaloes furnish their own transportation," was my reply. the colonel saw the point in a moment, and had no more to say on the subject. [illustration: bringing meat into camp.] no indians had been seen in the vicinity during the day, and colonel royal having carefully posted his pickets, supposed everything was serene for the night. but before morning we were roused from our slumbers by hearing shots fired, and immediately afterwards one of the mounted pickets came galloping into camp, saying that there were indians close at hand. the companies all fell into line, and were soon prepared and anxious to give the red-skins battle; but as the men were yet new in the indian country a great many of them were considerably excited. no indians, however, made their appearance, and upon going to the picket-post where the picket said he had seen them, none could be found nor could any traces of them be discovered. the sentinel,--who was an irishman--insisted that there certainly had been red-skins there. [illustration: "indians!"] "but you must be mistaken," said colonel royal. "upon me sowl, colonel, i'm not; as shure ez me name's pat maloney, one of thim rid divils hit me on the head wid a club, so he did," said pat; and so, when morning came, the mystery was further investigated and was easily solved. elk tracks were found in the vicinity and it was undoubtedly a herd of elks that had frightened pat; as he had turned to run, he had gone under a limb of a tree, against which he hit his head, and supposed he had been struck by a club in the hands of an indian. it was hard to convince pat however, of the truth. a three days uninteresting march brought us to beaver creek where we camped and from which point scouting parties were sent out in different directions. neither of these parties discovering indians they all returned to camp about the same time, finding it in a state of great excitement, it having been attacked a few hours previous by a party of indians, who had succeeded in killing two men and in making off with sixty horses belonging to co. h. that evening the command started on the trail of these indian horse-thieves; major brown with two companies and three days rations pushing ahead in advance of the main command. being unsuccessful, however, in overtaking the indians, and getting nearly out of provisions--it being our eighteenth day out, the entire command marched towards the nearest railroad point, and camped on the saline river; distant three miles from buffalo tank. while waiting for supplies we received a new commanding officer, brevet major-general e.a. carr, who was the senior major of the regiment, and who ranked colonel royal. he brought with him the now celebrated forsyth scouts, who were commanded by lieutenant pepoon, a regular army officer. [illustration: gen'l e.a. carr.] it was also while waiting in this camp that major brown received a new lieutenant to fill a vacancy in his company. on the day that this officer was to arrive, major brown had his private ambulance brought out, and invited me to accompany him to the railroad station to meet his lieutenant, whose name was a.b. bache. he proved to be a fine gentleman, and a brave, dashing officer. on the way to the dã©pã´t major brown had said, "now, cody, when we come back we'll give bache a lively ride and shake him up a little." major brown was a jolly good fellow, but sometimes he would get "a little off," and as this was one of his "off days" he was bound to amuse himself in some original and mischievous way. reaching the dã©pã´t just as the train came in, we easily found the lieutenant, and giving him the back seat in the ambulance we were soon headed for camp. pretty soon major brown took the reins from his driver, and at once began whipping the mules. after getting them into a lively gallop he pulled out his revolver and fired several shots. the road was terribly rough and the night was so dark that we could hardly see where we were going. it was a wonderful piece of luck that we were not tipped over and our necks broken. finally bache said, good-humoredly: "is this the way you break in all your lieutenants, major?" "oh, no; i don't do this as a regular thing, but it's the way we frequently ride in this country," said the major; "just keep your seat, mr. bache, and we'll take you through on time." the major appropriated the reply of the old california stage driver, hank monk, to horace greely. we were now rattling down a steep hill at full speed, and just as we reached the bottom, the front wheels struck a deep ditch over which the mules had jumped. we were all brought up standing by the sudden stoppage of the ambulance. major brown and myself were nearly pitched out on the wheels, while the lieutenant came flying headlong from the back seat to the front of the vehicle. "take a back seat, lieutenant," coolly said major brown. "major, i have just left that seat," said bache. we soon lifted the wagon out of the ditch, and then resumed our drive, running into camp under full headway, and creating considerable amusement. every one recognized the ambulance and knew at once that major brown and i were out on a "lark," and therefore there was not much said about our exploit. halting with a grand flourish in front of his tent, major brown jumped out in his most gallant style and politely asked his lieutenant in. a very pleasant evening was spent there, quite a number of the officers calling to make the acquaintance of the new officer, who entertained the visitors with an amusing account of the ride from the dã©pã´t. next morning at an early hour, the command started out on a hunt for indians. general carr having a pretty good idea where he would be most likely to find them, directed me to guide him by the nearest route to elephant rock on beaver creek. upon arriving at the south fork of the beaver on the second day's march, we discovered a large, fresh indian trail which we hurriedly followed for a distance of eight miles, when suddenly we saw on the bluffs ahead of us, quite a large number of indians. general carr ordered lieutenant pepoon's scouts and company m to the front. this company was commanded by lieutenant schinosky, a frenchman by birth and a reckless dare-devil by nature, who was anxious to have a hair-lifting match. having advanced his company nearly a mile ahead of the main command, about four hundred indians suddenly charged down upon him and gave him a lively little fight, until he was supported by our full force. the indians kept increasing in numbers all the while until it was estimated that we were fighting from eight hundred to one thousand of them. the engagement became quite general, and several were killed and wounded on each side. the indians were evidently fighting to give their families and village, a chance to get away. we had undoubtedly surprised them with a larger force than they had expected to see in that part of the country. we fought them until dark, all the time driving them before us. at night they annoyed us considerably by firing down into our camp from the higher hills, and several times the command was ordered out to dislodge them from their position and drive them back. after having returned from one of these little sallies, major brown, captain sweetman, lieutenant bache and myself were taking supper together, when "whang!" came a bullet into lieutenant bache's plate, breaking a hole through it. the bullet came from the gun of one of the indians, who had returned to the high bluff over-looking our camp. major brown declared it was a crack shot, because it broke the plate. we finished our supper without having any more such close calls. at daylight next morning we struck out on the trail, and soon came to the spot where the indians had camped the day before. we could see that their village was a very large one, consisting of about five hundred lodges; and we pushed forward rapidly from this point on the trail which ran back toward prairie dog creek. about two o'clock we came in sight of the retreating village, and soon the warriors turned back to give us battle. they set fire to the prairie grass in front of us, and on all sides, in order to delay us as much as possible. we kept up a running fight for the remainder of the afternoon, and the indians repeatedly attempted to lead us off the track of their flying village, but their trail was easily followed, as they were continually dropping tepee poles, camp kettles, robes, furs and all heavy articles belonging to them. they were evidently scattering, and it finally became difficult for us to keep on the main trail. when darkness set in, we went into camp, it being useless to try to follow the indians after nightfall. next morning we were again on the trail, which led north, and back towards the beaver creek, which stream it crossed within a few miles of the spot where we had first discovered the indians, they having made nearly a complete circle, in hopes of misleading us. late in the afternoon, we again saw them going over a hill far ahead of us, and towards evening the main body of warriors came back and fought us once more; but we continued to drive them until darkness set in, when we camped for the night. the indians soon scattered in every direction, but we followed the main trail to the republican river, where we made a cut-off, and then went north towards the platte river. we found, however, that the indians by traveling night and day had got a long start, and the general concluded that it was useless to follow them any further, as we had pushed them so hard, and given them such a scare that they would leave the republican country and go north across the union pacific railroad. most of the indians, as he had predicted, did cross the platte river, near ogallala, on the union pacific, and thence continued northward. that night we returned to the republican river and camped in a grove of cottonwoods, which i named carr's grove, in honor of the commanding officer. the general told me that the next day's march would be towards the head-waters of the beaver, and he asked me the distance. i replied that it was about twenty-five miles, and he said we would make it the next day. getting an early start in the morning, we struck out across the prairie, my position as guide being ahead of the advance guard. about two o'clock general carr overtook me, and asked how far i supposed it was to water. i thought it was about eight miles, although we could see no sign or indication of any stream in our front. "pepoon's scouts say that you are going in the wrong direction," said the general, "and in the way you are bearing it will be fifteen miles before you can strike any of the branches of the beaver; and that when you do, you will find no water, for the beavers are dry at this time of the year at that point." "general, i think the scouts are mistaken," said i, "for the beaver has more water near its head than it has below; and at the place where we will strike the stream we will find immense beaver dams, large enough and strong enough to cross the whole command, if you wish." "well, cody, go ahead," said he, "i'll leave it to you, but remember that i don't want a dry camp." "no danger of that," said i, and then i rode on, leaving him to return to the command. as i had predicted, we found water seven or eight miles further on, where we came upon a beautiful little stream--a tributary of the beaver--hidden in the hills. we had no difficulty in selecting a good halting place, and obtaining fresh spring water and excellent grass. the general, upon learning from me that the stream--which was only eight or nine miles long--had no name, took out his map and located it, and named it cody's creek, which name it still bears. we pulled out early next morning for the beaver, and when we were approaching the stream i rode on ahead of the advance guard, in order to find a crossing. just as i turned a bend of the creek, "bang!" went a shot, and down went my horse--myself with him. i disentangled myself, and jumped behind the dead body. looking in the direction whence the shot had come, i saw two indians, and at once turned my gun loose on them, but in the excitement of the moment i missed my aim. they fired two or three more shots, and i returned the compliment, wounding one of their horses. on the opposite side of the creek, going over the hill, i observed a few lodges moving rapidly away, and also some mounted warriors, who could see me, and who kept blazing away with their guns. the two indians who had fired at me and had killed my horse were retreating across the creek on a beaver dam. i sent a few shots after them to accelerate their speed, and also fired at the ones on the other side of the stream. i was undecided as to whether it was best to run back to the command on foot or hold my position. i knew that within a few minutes the troops would come up, and if they heard the firing they would come rapidly. the indians, seeing that i was alone, turned and charged down the hill, and were about to re-cross the creek to corral me, when the advance guard of the command put in an appearance on the ridge, and dashed forward to my rescue. the red-skins whirled and made off. when general carr came up, he ordered company i to go in pursuit of the band. i accompanied lieutenant brady, who commanded, and we had a running fight with the indians, lasting several hours. we captured several head of their horses and most of their lodges. at night we returned to the command, which by this time had crossed the creek on the beaver dam. we scouted for several days along the river, and had two or three lively skirmishes. finally our supplies began to run low, and general carr gave orders to return to fort wallace, which we reached three days afterwards, and where we remained several days. while the regiment was waiting here for orders, i spent most of the time in hunting buffaloes, and one day while i was out with a small party, we were "jumped" by about fifty indians. we had a severe fight of at least an hour, when we succeeded in driving the enemy. they lost four of their warriors, and probably concluded that we were a hard crowd. i had some excellent marksmen with me, and they did some fine work, sending the bullets thick and fast where they would do the most good. two or three of our horses had been hit, and one man had been wounded; we were ready and willing to stay with the red-skins as long as they wished--but they finally gave it up however, as a bad job, and rode off. we finished our hunt, and went back to the post loaded down with plenty of buffalo meat, and received the compliments of the general for our little fight. [illustration: a hard crowd.] chapter xix. a tough time. general carr soon received orders from general sheridan that he was to make a winter's campaign in the canadian river country, and that we were to proceed to fort lyon, on the arkansas river, in colorado, and there fit out for the expedition. leaving fort wallace in november, 1868, we arrived at fort lyon in the latter part of the month, and outfitted for the coming expedition. general penrose had left this post three weeks previously with a command of some three hundred men. he had taken no wagons with him and his supply train was composed only of pack mules. general carr was ordered to follow with supplies on his trail and overtake him as soon as possible. i was particularly anxious to catch up with penrose's command, as my old friend wild bill was among his scouts. we followed the trail very easily for the first three days, and then we were caught in freeze-out canyon by a fearful snow storm, which compelled us to go into camp for a day. the ground now being covered with snow, we found that it would be almost impossible to follow penrose's trail any further, especially as he had left no sign to indicate the direction he was going. general carr sent for me and said that as it was very important that we should not lose the trail, he wished that i would take some scouts with me, and while the command remained in camp, push on as far as possible and see if i could not discover some traces of penrose or where he had camped at any time. [illustration: camping in the snow.] accompanied by four men i started out in the blinding snow storm, taking a southerly direction. we rode twenty-four miles, and upon reaching a tributary of the cimarron, we scouted up and down the stream for a few miles and finally found one of penrose's old camps. it was now late in the afternoon, and as the command would come up the next day, it was not necessary for all of us to return with the information to general carr. so riding down into a sheltered place in a bend of the creek, we built a fire and broiled some venison from a deer which we had shot during the day, and after eating a substantial meal, i left the four men there, while i returned to bring up the troops. it was eleven o'clock at night when i got back to the camp. a light was still burning in the general's tent, he having remained awake, anxiously awaiting my return. he was glad to see me, and was overjoyed at the information i brought, for he had great fears concerning the safety of general penrose. he roused up his cook and ordered him to get me a good hot supper, all of which i greatly appreciated. i passed the night in the general's tent, and next morning rose refreshed and prepared for a big day's work. the command took up its march next day for the cimarron, and had a hard tramp of it on account of the snow having drifted to a great depth in many of the ravines, and in some places the teamsters had to shovel their way through. we arrived at the cimarron at sundown, and went into a nice warm camp. upon looking around next morning, we found that penrose, having been unencumbered by wagons, had kept on the west side of the cimarron, and the country was so rough that it was impossible for us to stay on his trail with our wagons; but knowing that he would certainly follow down the river, general carr concluded to take the best wagon route along the stream, which i discovered to be on the east side. before we could make any headway with our wagon train we had to leave the river and get out on the divide. we were very fortunate that day in finding a splendid road for some distance, until we were all at once brought up standing on a high table-land, overlooking a beautiful winding creek that lay far below us in the valley. the question that troubled us, was, how we were to get the wagons down. we were now in the foot-hills of the rattoon mountains, and the bluff we were on was very steep. "cody, we're in a nice fix now," said general carr. "oh, that's nothing," was my reply. "but you can never take the train down," said he. "never you mind the train, general. you say you are looking for a good camp. how does that beautiful spot down in the valley suit you?" i asked him. "that will do. i can easily descend with the cavalry, but how to get the wagons down there is a puzzler to me," said he. "by the time you've located your camp, your wagons shall be there," said i. "all right, cody, i'll leave it to you, as you seem to want to be boss," replied he pleasantly. he at once ordered the command to dismount and lead the horses down the mountain-side. the wagon train was a mile in the rear, and when it came up, one of the drivers asked: "how are we going down there?" "run down, slide down or fall down--any way to get down," said i. "we never can do it; it's too steep; the wagons will run over the mules," said another wagon-master. "i guess not; the mules have got to keep out of the way," was my reply. telling wilson, the chief wagon-master, to bring on his mess-wagon, which was at the head of the train, i said i would try the experiment at least. wilson drove the team and wagon to the brink of the hill, and following my directions he brought out some extra chains with which we locked both wheels on each side, and then rough-locked them. we then started the wagon down the hill. the wheel-horses--or rather the wheel-mules--were good on the hold-back, and we got along finely until we nearly reached the bottom, when the wagon crowded the mules so hard that they started on a run and galloped down into the valley and to the place where general carr had located his camp. three other wagons immediately followed in the same way, and in half an hour every wagon was in camp, without the least accident having occurred. it was indeed an exciting sight to see the six-mule teams come straight down the mountain and finally break into a full run. at times it looked as if the wagons would turn a somersault and land on the mules. this proved to be a lucky march for us as far as gaining on penrose was concerned, for the route he had taken on the west side of the stream turned out to be a bad one, and we went with our immense wagon train as far in one day as penrose had in seven. his command had marched on to a plateau or high table-land so steep, that not even a pack mule could descend it, and he was obliged to retrace his steps a long ways, thus losing three days time as we afterwards learned. while in this camp we had a lively turkey hunt. the trees along the banks of the stream were literally alive with wild turkeys, and after unsaddling the horses between two and three hundred soldiers surrounded a grove of timber and had a grand turkey round-up, killing four or five hundred of the birds, with guns, clubs and stones. of course, we had turkey in every style after this hunt--roast turkey, boiled turkey, fried turkey, "turkey on toast," and so on; and we appropriately called this place camp turkey. from this point on, for several days, we had no trouble in following penrose's trail, which led us in a southeasterly direction towards the canadian river. no indians were seen, nor any signs of them found. one day, while riding in advance of the command, down san francisco creek, i heard some one calling my name from a little bunch of willow brush on the opposite bank, and, upon looking closely at the spot, i saw a negro. "sakes alive! massa bill, am dat you?" asked the man, whom i recognized as one of the colored soldiers of the tenth cavalry. i next heard him say to some one in the brush: "come out o' heah. dar's massa buffalo bill." then he sang out, "massa bill, is you got any hawd tack?" "nary a hard tack; but the wagons will be along presently, and then you can get all you want," said i. "dat's de best news i'se heerd foah sixteen long days, massa bill," said he. "where's your command? where's general penrose?" i asked. "i dunno," said the darkey; "we got lost, and we's been a starvin' eber since." by this time two other negroes had emerged from their place of concealment. they had deserted penrose's command--which was out of rations and nearly in a starving condition--and were trying to make their way back to fort lyon. general carr concluded, from what they could tell him, that general penrose was somewhere on polladora creek; but we could not learn anything definite from the starved "mokes," for they knew not where they were themselves. having learned that general penrose's troops were in such bad shape, general carr ordered major brown to start out the next morning with two companies of cavalry and fifty pack-mules loaded with provisions, and to make all possible speed to reach and relieve the suffering soldiers. i accompanied this detachment, and on the third day out we found the half-famished soldiers camped on the polladora. the camp presented a pitiful sight, indeed. for over two weeks the men had had only quarter rations, and were now nearly starved to death. over two hundred horses and mules were lying dead, having died from fatigue and starvation. general penrose, having feared that general carr would not find him, had sent back a company of the seventh cavalry to fort lyon for supplies; but no word as yet had been heard from them. the rations which major brown brought to the command came none too soon, and were the means of saving many a life. [illustration: a welcome visitor] about the first man i saw after reaching the camp was my old, true and tried friend, wild bill. that night we had a jolly reunion around the camp-fires. general carr, upon arriving with his force, took command of all the troops, he being the senior officer and ranking general penrose. after selecting a good camp, he unloaded the wagons and sent them back to fort lyon for fresh supplies. he then picked out five hundred of the best men and horses, and, taking his pack-train with him, he started south for the canadian river, distant about forty miles, leaving the rest of the troops at the supply camp. i was ordered to accompany this expedition. we struck the south fork of the canadian river, or rio colorado, at a point a few miles above the old _adobe_ walls, which at one time had composed a fort, and was the place where kit carson once had a big indian fight. we were now within twelve miles of a new supply dã©pã´t, called camp evans, which had been established for the third cavalry and evans's expedition from new mexico. the scouts who had brought in this information also reported that they expected the arrival at camp evans of a bull-train from new mexico with a large quantity of beer for the soldiers. this news was "pie" for wild bill and myself, and we determined to lie low for that beer outfit. that very evening it came along, and the beer that was destined for the soldiers at camp evans never reached its destination. it went straight down the thirsty throats of general carr's command. it appears that the mexicans living near fort union had manufactured the beer, and were taking it through to camp evans to sell to the troops, but it struck a lively market without going so far. it was sold to our boys in pint cups, and as the weather was very cold we warmed the beer by putting the ends of our picket-pins heated red-hot into the cups. the result was one of the biggest beer jollifications i ever had the misfortune to attend. one evening general carr summoned me to his tent, and said he wished to send some scouts with dispatches to camp supply, which were to be forwarded from there to sheridan. he ordered me to call the scouts together at once at his headquarters, and select the men who were to go. i asked him if i should not go myself, but he replied that he wished me to remain with the command, as he could not spare me. the distance to camp supply was about two hundred miles, and owing to the very cold weather it was anything but a pleasant trip. consequently none of the scouts were anxious to undertake it. it was finally settled, however, that wild bill, a half-breed called little geary, and three other scouts should carry the dispatches, and they accordingly took their departure next day, with instructions to return to the command as soon as possible. for several days we scouted along the canadian river, but found no signs of indians. general carr then went back to his camp, and soon afterwards our wagon train came in from fort lyon with a fresh load of provisions. our animals being in poor condition, we remained in different camps along san francisco creek and the north fork of the canadian, until wild bill and his scouts returned from camp supply. among the scouts of penrose's command were fifteen mexicans, and between them and the american scouts there had existed a feud; when general carr took command of the expedition--uniting it with his own--and i was made chief of all the scouts, this feud grew more intense, and the mexicans often threatened to clean us out; but they postponed the undertaking from time to time, until one day, while we were all at the sutler's store, the long-expected fight took place, and resulted in the mexicans getting severely beaten. general carr, upon hearing of the row, sent for wild bill and myself, he having concluded, from the various statements which had been made to him, that we were the instigators of the affair. but after listening to what we had to say, he thought that the mexicans were as much to blame as we were. it is not to be denied that wild bill and myself had been partaking too freely of "tanglefoot" that evening; and general carr said to me: "cody, there are plenty of antelopes in the country, and you can do some hunting for the camp while we stay here." "all right, general, i'll do it." after that i put in my time hunting, and with splendid success, killing from fifteen to twenty antelopes a day, which kept the men well supplied with fresh meat. at length, our horses and mules having become sufficiently recruited to travel, we returned to fort lyon, arriving there in march, 1869, where the command was to rest and recruit for thirty days, before proceeding to the department of the platte, whither it had been ordered. chapter xx. an exciting chase. general carr, at my request, kindly granted me one month's leave of absence to visit my family in st. louis, and ordered captain hays, our quartermaster, to let me ride my mule and horse to sheridan, distant 140 miles, where i was to take the cars. i was instructed to leave the animals in the quartermaster's corral at fort wallace until i should come back, but instead of doing this i put them both in the care of my old friend perry, the hotel-keeper at sheridan. after a twenty days absence in st. louis, pleasantly spent with my family, i returned to sheridan, and there learned that my mule and horse had been seized by the government. it seems that the quartermaster's agent at sheridan had reported to general bankhead, commanding fort wallace, and to captain laufer, the quartermaster, that i had left the country and had sold a government horse and mule to mr. perry, and of course captain laufer took possession of the animals and threatened to have perry arrested for buying government property. perry explained to him the facts in the case and said that i would return in a few days; but the captain would pay no attention to his statements. i immediately went over to the office of the quartermaster's agent, and had perry point him out to me. i at once laid hold of him, and in a short time had treated him to just such a thrashing as his contemptible lie deserved. he then mounted a horse, rode to fort wallace, and reported me to general bankhead and captain laufer, and obtained a guard to return with and protect him. the next morning i secured a horse from perry, and proceeding to fort wallace demanded my horse and mule from general bankhead, on the ground that they were quartermaster hays' property and belonged to general carr's command, and that i had obtained permission to ride them to sheridan and back. general bankhead, in a gruff manner ordered me out of his office and off the reservation, saying that if i didn't take a hurried departure he would have me forcibly put out. i told him to do it and be hanged; i might have used a stronger expression, and upon second thought, i believe i did. i next interviewed captain laufer and demanded of him also the horse and mule, as i was responsible for them to quartermaster hays. captain laufer intimated that i was a liar and that i had disposed of the animals. hot words ensued between us, and he too ordered me to leave the post. i replied that general bankhead had commanded me to do the same thing, but that i had not yet gone; and that i did not propose to obey any orders of an inferior officer. seeing that it was of no use to make any further effort to get possession of the animals i rode back to sheridan, and just as i reached there i met the quartermaster's agent coming out from supper, with his head tied up. it occurred to me that he had not received more than one half the punishment justly due him, and that now would be a good time to give him the balance--so i carried the idea into immediate execution. after finishing the job in good style, i informed him that he could not stay in that town while i remained there, and convinced him that sheridan was not large enough to hold us both at the same time; he accordingly left the place and again went to fort wallace, this time reporting to general bankhead that i had driven him away, and had threatened to kill him. that night while sleeping at the perry house, i was awakened by a tap on the shoulder and upon looking up i was considerably surprised to see the room filled with armed negroes who had their guns all pointed at me. the first words i heard came from the sergeant, who said: "now look a-heah, massa bill, ef you makes a move we'll blow you off de farm, shuah!" just then captain ezekiel entered and ordered the soldiers to stand back. "captain, what does this mean?" i asked. "i am sorry, bill, but i have been ordered by general bankhead to arrest you and bring you to fort wallace," said he. "that's all right," said i, "but you could have made the arrest alone, without having brought the whole thirty-eighth infantry with you." "i know that, bill," replied the captain, "but as you've not been in very good humor for the last day or two, i didn't know how you would act." i hastily dressed, and accompanied captain ezekiel to fort wallace, arriving there at two o'clock in the morning. "bill, i am really sorry," said captain ezekiel, as we alighted, "but i have orders to place you in the guard-house, and i must perform my duty." "very well, captain; i don't blame you a bit," said i; and into the guard-house i went as a prisoner for the first and only time in my life. the sergeant of the--guard who was an old friend of mine, belonging to captain graham's company, which was stationed there at the time--did not put me into a cell, but kindly allowed me to stay in his room and occupy his bed, and in a few minutes i was snoring away as if nothing unusual had occurred. shortly after _reveille_ captain graham called to see me. he thought it was a shame for me to be in the guard-house, and said that he would interview general bankhead in my behalf as soon as he got up. the captain had a nice breakfast prepared for me, and then departed. at guard-mount i was not sent for, contrary to my expectations, and thereupon i had word conveyed to captain graham, who was officer of the day, that i wanted to see general bankhead. the captain informed me that the general absolutely refused to hold any conversation whatever with me. at this time there was no telegraph line between fort wallace and fort lyon, and therefore it was impossible for me to telegraph to general carr, and i determined to send a dispatch direct to general sheridan. i accordingly wrote out a long telegram informing him of my difficulty, and had it taken to the telegraph office for transmission; but the operator, instead of sending it at once as he should have done, showed it to general bankhead, who tore it up, and instructed the operator not to pay any attention to what i might say, as he was running that post. thinking it very strange that i received no answer during the day i went to the telegraph office, accompanied by a guard, and learned from the operator what he had done. "see here, my young friend," said i, "this is a public telegraph line, and i want my telegram sent, or there'll be trouble." i re-wrote my dispatch and handed it to him, accompanied with the money to pay for the transmission, saying, as i did so: "young man, i wish that telegram sent direct to chicago. you know it is your duty to send it, and it must go." he knew very well that he was compelled to transmit the message, but before doing so he called on general bankhead and informed him of what i had said, and told him that he would certainly have to send it, for if he didn't he might lose his position. the general, seeing that the telegram would have to go, summoned me to his headquarters, and the first thing he said, after i got into his presence was: "if i let you go, sir, will you leave the post at once and not bother my agent at sheridan again?" "no, sir;" i replied, "i'll do nothing of the kind. i'll remain in the guard-house until i receive an answer from general sheridan." "if i give you the horse and mule will you proceed at once to fort lyon?" "no, sir; i have some bills to settle at sheridan and some other business to transact," replied i. "well, sir; will you at least agree not to interfere any further with the quartermaster's agent at sheridan?" "i shall not bother him any more, sir, as i have had all i want from him," was my answer. general bankhead thereupon sent for captain laufer and ordered him to turn the horse and mule over to me. in a few minutes more i was on my way to sheridan, and after settling my business there, i proceeded to fort lyon, arriving two days afterwards. i related my adventures to general carr, major brown, and other officers, who were greatly amused thereby. "i'm glad you've come, bill," said general carr, "as i have been wanting you for the last two weeks. while we have been at this post several valuable animals, as well as a large number of government horses and mules have been stolen, and we think that the thieves are still in the vicinity of the fort, but as yet we have been unable to discover their rendezvous. i have had a party out for the last few days in the neighborhood of old fort lyon, and they have found fresh tracks down there and seem to think that the stock is concealed somewhere in the timber, along the arkansas river. bill green, one of the scouts who has just come up from there, can perhaps tell you something more about the matter." green, who had been summoned, said that he had discovered fresh trails before striking the heavy timber opposite old fort lyon, but that in the tall grass he could not follow them. he had marked the place where he had last seen fresh mule tracks, so that he could find it again. "now, cody, you're just the person we want," said the general. "very well, i'll get a fresh mount, and to-morrow i'll go down and see what i can discover," said i. "you had better take two men besides green, and a pack mule with eight or ten days' rations," suggested the general, "so that if you find the trail you can follow it up, as i am very anxious to get back this stolen property. the scoundrels have taken one of my private horses and also lieutenant forbush's favorite little black race mule." next morning i started out after the horse-thieves, being accompanied by green, jack farley, and another scout. the mule track, marked by green, was easily found, and with very little difficulty i followed it for about two miles into the timber and came upon a place where, as i could plainly see from numerous signs, quite a number of head of stock had been tied among the trees and kept for several days. this was evidently the spot where the thieves had been hiding their stolen stock until they had accumulated quite a herd. from this point it was difficult to trail them, as they had taken the stolen animals out of the timber one by one and in different directions, thus showing that they were experts at the business and experienced frontiersmen, for no indian could have exhibited more cunning in covering up a trail than did they. i abandoned the idea of following their trail in this immediate locality, so calling my men together, i told them that we would ride out for about five miles and make a complete circuit about the place, and in this way we would certainly find the trail on which they had moved out. while making the circuit we discovered the tracks of twelve animals--four mules and eight horses--in the edge of some sand-hills, and from this point we had no trouble in trailing them down the arkansas river, which they had crossed at sand creek, and then had gone up the latter stream, in the direction of denver, to which place they were undoubtedly bound. when nearing denver their trail became so obscure that we at last lost it; but by inquiring of the settlers along the road which they had taken, we occasionally heard of them. when within four miles of denver--this was on a thursday--we learned that the horse-thieves had passed there two days before. i came to the conclusion they would attempt to dispose of the animals in denver, and being aware that saturday was the great auction day there, i thought it best to remain where we were at a hotel, and not go into the city until that day. it certainly would not have been advisable for me to have gone into denver meantime--because i was well-known there, and if the thieves had learned of my presence in the city they would at once have suspected my business. early saturday morning, we rode into town and stabled our horses at the elephant corral. i secured a room from ed. chase, overlooking the corral, and then took up my post of observation. i did not have long to wait, for a man, whom i readily recognized as one of our old packers, rode into the corral mounted upon lieutenant forbush's racing mule, and leading another government mule, which i also identified. it had been recently branded, and over the "u.s." was a plain "d.b." i waited for the man's companion to put in an appearance, but he did not come, and my conclusion was that he was secreted outside of the city with the rest of the animals. presently the black mule belonging to forbush was put up at auction. now, thought i, is the time to do my work. so, walking through the crowd, who were bidding for the mule, i approached the man who had offered him for sale. he recognized me and endeavored to escape, but i seized him by the shoulder, saying: "i guess, my friend, that you'll have to go with me. if you make any resistance, i'll shoot you on the spot." he was armed with a pair of pistols, which i took away from him. then informing the auctioneer that i was a united states detective, and showing him--as well as an inquisitive officer--my commission as such, i told him to stop the sale, as the mule was stolen property, and that i had arrested the thief, whose name was williams. farley and green, who were near at hand, now came forward, and together we took the prisoner and the mules three miles down the platte river; there, in a thick bunch of timber, we all dismounted and made preparations to hang williams from a limb, if he did not tell us where his partner was. at first he denied knowing anything about any partner, or any other stock; but when he saw that we were in earnest, and would hang him at the end of the given time--five minutes--unless he "squealed," he told us that his "pal" was at an unoccupied house three miles further down the river. we immediately proceeded to the spot indicated, and as we came within sight of the house we saw our stock grazing near by. just as we rode up to the door, another one of our old packers, whom i recognized as bill bevins, stepped to the front, and i covered him instantly with my rifle before he could draw his revolver. i ordered him to throw up his hands, and he obeyed the command. green then disarmed him and brought him out. we looked through the house and found their saddles, pack-saddles, blankets, overcoats, lariats and two henry rifles, which we took possession of. the horses and mules we tied in a bunch, and with the whole outfit we returned to denver, where we lodged williams and bevins in jail, in charge of my friend, sheriff edward cook. the next day we took them out, and, tying each one on a mule, we struck out on our return trip to fort lyon. at the hotel outside the city, where we had stopped on thursday and friday, we were joined by our man with the pack-mule. that night we camped on cherry creek, seventeen miles from denver. the weather--it being in april--was cold and stormy, but we found a warm and cosy camping place in a bend of the creek. we made our beds in a row, with our feet towards the fire. the prisoners so far had appeared very docile, and had made no attempt to escape, and therefore i did not think it necessary to hobble them. we made them sleep on the inside, and it was so arranged that some one of us should be on guard all the time. at about one o'clock in the night it began snowing, while i was watching. shortly before three o'clock, jack farley, who was then on guard, and sitting on the foot of the bed, with his back to the prisoners, was kicked clear into the fire by williams, and the next moment bevins, who had got hold of his shoes--which i had thought were out of his reach--sprang up and jumped over the fire, and started on a run. i sent a shot after him as soon as i awoke sufficiently to comprehend what was taking place. williams attempted to follow him, and as he did so, i whirled around and knocked him down with my revolver. farley by this time had gathered himself out of the fire, and green had started after bevins, firing at him on the run; but the prisoner made his escape into the brush. in his flight, unfortunately for him, and luckily for us, he dropped one of his shoes. leaving williams in the charge of farley and "long doc," as we called the man with the pack-mule, green and myself struck out after bevins as fast as possible. we heard him breaking through the brush, but knowing that it would be useless to follow him on foot, we went back to the camp and saddled up two of the fastest horses, and at daylight we struck out on his trail, which was plainly visible in the snow. he had got an hour and a half the start of us. his tracks led us in the direction of the mountains and the south platte river, and as the country through which he was passing was covered with prickly pears, we knew that he could not escape stepping on them with his one bare foot, and hence we were likely to overtake him in a short time. we could see, however, from the long jumps that he was taking, that he was making excellent time, but we frequently noticed, after we had gone some distance, that the prickly pears and stones along his route were cutting his bare foot, as nearly every track of it was spotted with blood. we had run our horses some twelve miles when we saw bevins crossing a ridge about two miles ahead. urging our horses up to their utmost speed, we reached the ridge just as he was descending the divide towards the south platte, which stream was very deep and swift at this point. it became evident that if he should cross it ahead of us, he would have a good chance of making his escape. so pushing our steeds as fast as possible, we rapidly gained on him, and when within a hundred yards of him i cried to him to halt or i would shoot. knowing i was a good shot, he stopped, and, coolly sitting down, waited till we came up. "bevins, you've given us a good run," said i. "yes," said he, "and if i had had fifteen minutes more of a start and got across the platte, i would have laughed at the idea of your ever catching me." bevin's run was the most remarkable feat of the kind ever known, either of a white man, or an indian. a man who could run bare-footed in the snow eighteen miles through a prickly pear patch, was certainly a "tough one," and that's the kind of a person bill bevins was. upon looking at his bleeding foot i really felt sorry for him. he asked me for my knife, and i gave him my sharp-pointed bowie, with which he dug the prickly pear briars out of his foot. i considered him as "game" a man as i had ever met. "bevins, i have got to take you back," said i, "but as you can't walk with that foot, you can ride my horse and i'll foot it." we accordingly started back for our camp, with bevins on my horse, which was led either by green or myself, as we alternately rode the other horse. we kept a close watch on bevins, for we had ample proof that he needed watching. his wounded foot must have pained him terribly but not a word of complaint escaped him. on arriving at the camp we found williams bound as we had left him and he seemed sorry that we had captured bevins. [illustration: the recapture of bevins.] after breakfasting we resumed our journey, and nothing worth of note again occurred until we reached the arkansas river, where we found a vacant cabin and at once took possession of it for the night. there was no likelihood of bevins again trying to escape, for his foot had swollen to an enormous size, and was useless. believing that williams could not escape from the cabin, we unbound him. we then went to sleep, leaving long doc on guard, the cabin being comfortably warmed and well lighted by the fire. it was a dark, stormy night--so dark that you could hardly see your hand before you. at about ten o'clock, williams asked long doc to allow him to step to the door for a moment. long doc, who had his revolver in his hand, did not think it necessary to wake us up, and believing that he could take care of the prisoner, he granted his request. williams thereupon walked to the outer edge of the door, while long doc, revolver in hand, was watching him from the inside. suddenly williams made a spring to the right, and before doc could even raise his revolver, he had dodged around the house. doc jumped after him, and fired just as he turned a corner, the report bringing us all to our feet, and in an instant we knew what had happened. i at once covered bevins with my revolver, but as i saw that he could hardly stir, and was making no demonstration, i lowered the weapon. just then doc came in swearing "a blue streak," and announced that williams had escaped. there was nothing for us to do except to gather our horses close to the cabin and stand guard over them for the rest of the night, to prevent the possibility of williams sneaking up and stealing one of them. that was the last i ever saw or heard of williams. we finally got back to fort lyon with bevins, and general carr, to whom i immediately reported, complimented us highly on the success of our trip, notwithstanding we had lost one prisoner. the next day we took bevins to boggs' ranch on picket wire creek, and there turned him over to the civil authorities, who put him in a log jail to await his trial. he never was tried, however, for he soon made his escape, as i expected he would do. i heard no more of him until 1872, when i learned that he was skirmishing around on laramie plains at his old tricks. he sent word by the gentleman from whom i gained this information, that if he ever met me again he would kill me on sight. he finally was arrested and convicted for robbery, and was confined in the prison at laramie city. again he made his escape, and soon afterwards he organized a desperate gang of outlaws who infested the country north of the union pacific railroad, and when the stages began to run between cheyenne and deadwood, in the black hills, they robbed the coaches and passengers, frequently making large hauls of plunder. they kept this up for some time, till finally most of the gang were caught, tried, convicted, and sent to the penitentiary for a number of years. bill bevins and nearly all of his gang are now confined in the nebraska state prison, to which they were transferred, from wyoming. [illustration: robbing a stage coach.] chapter xxi. a military expedition. a day or two after my return to fort lyon, the fifth cavalry were ordered to the department of the platte, and took up their line of march for fort mcpherson, nebraska. we laid over one day at fort wallace, to get supplies, and while there i had occasion to pass general bankhead's headquarters. his orderly called to me, and said the general wished to see me. as i entered the general's office he extended his hand and said: "i hope you have no hard feelings toward me, cody, for having you arrested when you were here. i have just had a talk with general carr and quartermaster hays, and they informed me that you had their permission to ride the horse and mule, and if you had stated this fact to me there would have been no trouble about the matter whatever." "that is all right, general," said i; "i will think no more of it. but i don't believe that your quartermaster's agent will ever again circulate false stories about me." "no," said the general; "he has not yet recovered from the beating that you gave him." from fort wallace we moved down to sheridan, where the command halted for us to lay in a supply of forage which was stored there. i was still messing with major brown, with whom i went into the village to purchase a supply of provisions for our mess; but unfortunately we were in too jolly a mood to fool away money on "grub." we bought several articles, however, and put them into the ambulance and sent them back to the camp with our cook. the major and myself did not return until _reveille_ next morning. soon afterwards the general sounded "boots and saddles," and presently the regiment was on its way to mcpherson. it was very late before we went into camp that night, and we were tired and hungry. just as major brown was having his tent put up, his cook came to us and asked where the provisions were that we had bought the day before. "why, did we not give them to you--did you not bring them to camp in the ambulance?" asked major brown. "no, sir; it was only a five-gallon demijohn of whiskey, a five-gallon demijohn of brandy, and two cases of old tom-cat gin," said the cook. "the mischief!" i exclaimed; "didn't we spend any money on grub at all?" "no, sir," replied the cook. "well, that will do for the present," said major brown. it seems that our minds had evidently been running on a different subject than provisions while we were loitering in sheridan, and we found ourselves, with a two hundred and fifty mile march ahead of us, without anything more inviting than ordinary army rations. at this juncture captain denny came up, and the major apologized for not being able to invite him to take supper with us; but we did the next best thing, and asked him to take a drink. he remarked that that was what he was looking for, and when he learned of our being out of commissary supplies, and that we had bought nothing except whiskey, brandy and gin, he said, joyously: "boys, as we have an abundance, you can eat with us, and we will drink with you." it was a satisfactory arrangement, and from that time forward we traded our liquids for their solids. when the rest of the officers heard of what brown and i had done, they all sent us invitations to dine with them at any time. we returned the compliment by inviting them to drink with us whenever they were dry. although i would not advise anybody to follow our example, yet it is a fact that we got more provisions for our whiskey than the same money, which we paid for the liquor, would have bought; so after all it proved a very profitable investment. on reaching the north fork of the beaver and riding down the valley towards the stream, i suddenly discovered a large fresh indian trail. on examination i found it to be scattered all over the valley on both sides of the creek, as if a very large village had recently passed down that way. judging from the size of the trail, i thought there could not be less than four hundred lodges, or between twenty-five hundred and three thousand warriors, women and children in the band. i galloped hack to the command, distant about three miles, and reported the news to general carr, who halted the regiment, and, after consulting a few minutes, ordered me to select a ravine, or as low ground as possible, so that he could keep the troops out of sight until we could strike the creek. we went into camp on the beaver, and the general ordered lieutenant ward to take twelve men and myself and follow up the trail for several miles, and find out how fast the indians were traveling. i was soon convinced, by the many camps they had made, that they were traveling slowly, and hunting as they journeyed. we went down the beaver on this scout about twelve miles, keeping our horses well concealed under the banks of the creek, so as not to be discovered. at this point, lieutenant ward and myself, leaving our horses behind us, crawled to the top of a high knoll, where we could have a good view for some miles distant down the stream. we peeped over the summit of the hill, and not over three miles away we could see a whole indian village in plain sight, and thousands of ponies grazing around on the prairie. looking over to our left on the opposite side of the creek, we observed two or three parties of indians coming in, loaded down with buffalo meat. "this is no place for us, lieutenant," said i; "i think we have important business at the camp to attend to as soon as possible." "i agree with you," said he, "and the quicker we get there the better it will be for us." we quickly descended the hill and joined the men below. lieutenant ward hurriedly wrote a note to general carr, and handing it to a corporal, ordered him to make all possible haste back to the command and deliver the message. the man started off on a gallop, and lieutenant ward said: "we will march slowly back until we meet the troops, as i think the general will soon be here, for he will start immediately upon receiving my note." in a few minutes we heard two or three shots in the direction in which our dispatch courier had gone, and soon after we saw him come flying around the bend of the creek, pursued by four or five indians. the lieutenant, with his squad of soldiers and myself, at once charged upon them, when they turned and ran across the stream. "this will not do," said lieutenant ward, "the whole indian village will now know that soldiers are near by. "lieutenant, give me that note, and i will take it to the general," said i. he gladly handed me the dispatch, and spurring my horse i dashed up the creek. after having ridden a short distance, i observed another party of indians also going to the village with meat; but instead of waiting for them to fire upon me, i gave them a shot at long range. seeing one man firing at them so boldly, it surprised them, and they did not know what to make of it. while they were thus considering, i got between them and our camp. by this time they had recovered from their surprise, and, cutting their buffalo meat loose from their horses, they came after me at the top of their speed; but as their steeds were tired out, it did not take me long to leave them far in the rear. i reached the command in less than an hour, delivered the dispatch to general carr, and informed him of what i had seen. he instantly had the bugler sound "boots and saddles," and all the troops--with the exception of two companies, which we left to guard the train--were soon galloping in the direction of the indian camp. we had ridden about three miles when we met lieutenant ward, who was coming slowly towards us. he reported that he had run into a party of indian buffalo-hunters, and had killed one of the number, and had had one of his horses wounded. we immediately pushed forward and after marching about five miles came within sight of hundreds of mounted indians advancing up the creek to meet us. they formed a complete line in front of us. general carr, being desirous of striking their village, ordered the troops to charge, break through their line, and keep straight on. this movement would, no doubt, have been successfully accomplished had it not been for the rattle-brained and dare-devil french lieutenant schinosky, commanding company b, who, misunderstanding general carr's orders, charged upon some indians at the left, while the rest of the command dashed through the enemy's line, and was keeping straight on, when it was observed that schinosky and his company were surrounded by four or five hundred red-skins. the general, to save the company, was obliged to sound a halt and charge back to the rescue. the company, during this short fight, had several men and quite a number of horses killed. all this took up valuable time, and night was coming on. the indians were fighting desperately to keep us from reaching their village, which being informed by couriers of what was taking place, was packing up and getting away. during that afternoon it was all we could do to hold our own in fighting the mounted warriors, who were in our front and contesting every inch of the ground. the general had left word for our wagon train to follow up with its escort of two companies, but as it had not made its appearance he entertained some fears that it had been surrounded, and to prevent the possible loss of the supply train we had to go back and look for it. about 9 o'clock that evening we found it, and went into camp for the night. next morning we passed down the creek and there was not an indian to be seen. they had all disappeared and gone on with their village. two miles further on we came to where a village had been located, and here we found nearly everything belonging or pertaining to an indian camp, which had been left in the great hurry to get away. these articles were all gathered up and burned. we then pushed out on the trail as fast as possible. it led us to the northeast towards the republican; but as the indians had a night the start of us we entertained but little hope of overtaking them that day. upon reaching the republican in the afternoon the general called a halt, and as the trail was running more to the east, he concluded to send his wagon train on to fort mcpherson by the most direct route, while he would follow on the trail of the red-skins. next morning at daylight we again pulled out and were evidently gaining rapidly on the indians for we could occasionally see them in the distance. about 11 o'clock that day while major babcock was ahead of the main command with his company, and while we were crossing a deep ravine, we were surprised by about three hundred warriors who commenced a lively fire upon us. galloping out of the ravine on to the rough prairie the men dismounted and returned the fire. we soon succeeded in driving the enemy before us, and were so close upon them at one time, that they abandoned and threw away nearly all their lodges and camp equipages, and everything that had any considerable weight. they left behind them their played-out horses, and for miles we could see indian furniture strewn along in every direction. the trail became divided, and the indians scattered in small bodies, all over the prairie. as night was approaching and our horses were about giving out, a halt was called. a company was detailed to collect all the indian horses running loose over the country, and to burn the other indian property. the command being nearly out of rations i was sent to the nearest point, old fort kearney, about sixty miles distant for supplies. shortly after we reached fort mcpherson, which continued to be the headquarters of the fifth cavalry for some time. we remained there for ten days, fitting out for a new expedition to the republican river country, and were reinforced by three companies of the celebrated pawnee indian scouts, commanded by major frank north; his officers being captain lute north, brother of the major, captain cushing, his brother-in-law, captain morse, and lieutenants beecher, matthews and kislandberry. general carr recommended at this time to general augur, who was in command of the department, that i be made chief of scouts in the department of the platte, and informed me that in this position i would receive higher wages than i had been getting in the department of the missouri. this appointment i had not asked for. i made the acquaintance of major frank north,[b] and i found him, and his officers, perfect gentlemen, and we were all good friends from the very start. the pawnee scouts had made quite a reputation for themselves as they had performed brave and valuable services, in fighting against the sioux, whose bitter enemies they were; being thoroughly acquainted with the republican and beaver country, i was glad that they were to be with the expedition, and they did good service. [footnote b: major north is now my partner in a cattle ranch in nebraska.] during our stay at fort mcpherson i made the acquaintance of lieutenant george p. belden, known as the "white chief," whose life was written by colonel brisbin, u.s. army. i found him to be an intelligent, dashing fellow, a splendid rider and an excellent shot. an hour after our introduction he challenged me for a rifle match, the preliminaries of which were soon arranged. we were to shoot ten shots each for fifty dollars, at two hundred yards, off hand. belden was to use a henry rifle, while i was to shoot my old "lucretia." this match i won and then belden proposed to shoot a one hundred yard match, as i was shooting over his distance. in this match belden was victorious. we were now even, and we stopped right there. while we were at this post general augur and several of his officers, and also thomas duncan, brevet brigadier and lieutenant colonel of the fifth cavalry, paid us a visit for the purpose of reviewing the command. the regiment turned out in fine style and showed themselves to be well drilled soldiers, thoroughly understanding military tactics. the pawnee scouts were also reviewed and it was very amusing to see them in their full regulation uniform. they had been furnished a regular cavalry uniform and on this parade some of them had their heavy overcoats on, others their large black hats, with all the brass accoutrements attached; some of them were minus pantaloons and only wore a breech clout. others wore regulation pantaloons but no shirts on and were bareheaded; others again had the seat of the pantaloons cut out, leaving only leggins; some of them wore brass spurs, but had no boots or moccasins on. they seemed to understand the drill remarkably well for indians. the commands, of course, were given to them in their own language by major north, who could talk it as well as any full-blooded pawnee. the indians were well mounted and felt proud and elated because they had been made united states soldiers. major north, has had for years complete power over these indians and can do more with them than any man living. that evening after the parade was over the officers and quite a number of ladies visited a grand indian dance given by the pawnees, and of all the indians i have seen, their dances excel those of any other tribe. next day the command started; when encamped, several days after, on the republican river near the mouth of the beaver, we heard the whoops of indians, followed by shots in the vicinity of the mule herd, which had been taken down to water. one of the herders came dashing into camp with an arrow sticking into him. my horse was close at hand, and, mounting him bare-back, i at once dashed off after the mule herd, which had been stampeded. i supposed certainly that i would be the first man on the ground. i was mistaken, however, for the pawnee indians, unlike regular soldiers, had not waited to receive orders from their officers, but had jumped on their ponies without bridles or saddles, and placing ropes in their mouths, had dashed off in the direction whence the shots had come, and had got there ahead of me. it proved to be a party of about fifty sioux, who had endeavored to stampede our mules, and it took them by surprise to see their inveterate enemies--the pawnees--coming at full gallop towards them. they were not aware that the pawnees were with the command, and as they knew that it would take regular soldiers sometime to turn out, they thought they would have ample opportunity to secure the herd before the troops could give chase. we had a running fight of fifteen miles, and several of the enemy were killed. during this chase i was mounted on an excellent horse, which colonel royal had picked out for me, and for the first mile or two i was in advance of the pawnees. presently a pawnee shot by me like an arrow and i could not help admiring the horse that he was riding. seeing that he possessed rare running qualities, i determined if possible to get possession of the animal in some way. it was a large buckskin or yellow horse, and i took a careful view of him so that i would know him when i returned to camp. after the chase was over i rode up to major north and inquired about the buckskin horse. "oh yes," said the major, "that is one of our favorite steeds." "what chance is there to trade for him?" i asked. "it is a government horse," said he, "and the indian who is riding him is very much attached to the animal." "i have fallen in love with the horse myself," said i, "and i would like to know if you have any objections to my trading for him if i can arrange it satisfactorily with the indian?" he said: "none whatever, and i will help you to do it; you can give the indian another horse in his place." a few days after this, i persuaded the indian, by making him several presents, to trade horses with me, and in this way i became the owner of the buckskin steed, not as my own property, however, but as a government horse that i could ride. i gave him the name of "buckskin joe" and he proved to be a second brigham. that horse i rode on and off during the summers of 1869, 1870, 1871 and 1872, and he was the horse that the grand duke alexis rode on his buffalo hunt. in the winter of 1872, after i had left fort mcpherson, buckskin joe was condemned and sold at public sale, and was bought by dave perry, at north platte, who in 1877 presented him to me, and i still own him. he is now at my ranch on the dismal river, stone blind, but i shall keep him until he dies. the command scouted several days up the beaver and prairie dog rivers, occasionally having running fights with war parties of indians, but did not succeed in getting them into a general battle. at the end of twenty days we found ourselves back on the republican. hitherto the pawnees had not taken much interest in me, but while at this camp i gained their respect and admiration by showing them how i killed buffaloes. although the pawnees were excellent buffalo killers, for indians, i have never seen one of them who could kill more than four or five in one run. a number of them generally surround the herd and then dash in upon them, and in this way each one kills from one to four buffaloes. i had gone out in company with major north and some of the officers, and saw them make a "surround." twenty of the pawnees circled a herd and succeeded in killing only thirty-two. "while they were cutting up the animals another herd appeared in sight. the indians were preparing to surround it, when i asked major north to keep them back and let me show them what i could do. he accordingly informed the indians of my wish and they readily consented to let me have the opportunity. i had learned that buckskin joe was an excellent buffalo horse, and felt confident that i would astonish the natives; galloping in among the buffaloes, i certainly did so by killing thirty-six in less than a half-mile run. at nearly every shot i killed a buffalo, stringing the dead animals out on the prairie, not over fifty feet apart. this manner of killing was greatly admired by the indians who called me a big chief, and from that time on, i stood high in their estimation." chapter xxii. a desperate fight. on leaving camp, the command took a westward course up the republican, and major north with two companies of his pawnees and two or three companies of cavalry, under the command of colonel royal, made a scout to the north of the river. shortly after we had gone into camp, on the black tail deer fork, we observed a band of indians coming over the prairie at full gallop, singing and yelling and waving their lances and long poles. at first we supposed them to be sioux, and all was excitement for a few moments. we noticed, however, that our pawnee indians made no hostile demonstrations or preparations towards going out to fight them, but began swinging and yelling themselves. captain lute north stepped up to general carr and said: "general, those are our men who are coming, and they have had a fight. that is the way they act when they come back from a battle and have taken any scalps." the pawnees came into camp on the run. captain north calling to one of them--a sergeant--soon found out that they had run across a party of sioux who were following a large indian trail. these indians had evidently been in a fight, for two or three of them had been wounded and they were conveying the injured persons on _travois_. the pawnees had "jumped" them and had killed three or four more of them. next morning the command, at an early hour, started out to take up this indian trail which they followed for two days as rapidly as possible; it becoming evident from the many camp fires which we passed, that we were gaining on the indians. wherever they had encamped we found the print of a woman's shoe, and we concluded that they had with them some white captive. this made us all the more anxious to overtake them, and general carr accordingly selected all his best horses, which could stand a hard run, and gave orders for the wagon train to follow as fast as possible, while he pushed ahead on a forced march. at the same time i was ordered to pick out five or six of the best pawnees, and go on in advance of the command, keeping ten or twelve miles ahead on the trail, so that when we overtook the indians we could find out the location of their camp, and send word to the troops before they came in sight, thus affording ample time to arrange a plan for the capture of the village. after having gone about ten miles in advance of the regiment, we began to move very cautiously, as we were now evidently nearing the indians. we looked carefully over the summits of the hills before exposing ourselves to plain view, and at last we discovered the village, encamped in the sand-hills south of the south platte river at summit springs. here i left the pawnee scouts to keep watch, while i went back and informed general carr that the indians were in sight. the general at once ordered his men to tighten their saddles and otherwise prepare for action. soon all was excitement among the officers and soldiers, every one being anxious to charge the village. i now changed my horse for old buckskin joe, who had been led for me thus far, and was comparatively fresh. acting on my suggestion, the general made a circuit to the north, believing that if the indians had their scouts out, they would naturally be watching in the direction whence they had come. when we had passed the indians and were between them and the platte river, we turned to the left and started toward the village. by this manoeuver we had avoided discovery by the sioux scouts, and we were confident of giving them a complete surprise. keeping the command wholly out of sight, until we were within a mile of the indians, the general halted the advance guard until all closed up, and then issued an order, that, when he sounded the charge, the whole command was to rush into the village. as we halted on the top of the hill overlooking the camp of the unsuspecting indians, general carr called out to his bugler: "sound the charge!" the bugler for a moment became intensely excited, and actually forgot the notes. the general again sang out: "sound the charge!" and yet the bugler was unable to obey the command. quartermaster hays--who had obtained permission to accompany the expedition--was riding near the general, and comprehending the dilemma of the man, rushed up to him, jerked the bugle from his hands and sounded the charge himself in clear and distinct notes. as the troops rushed forward, he threw the bugle away, then drawing his pistols, was among the first men that entered the village. the indians had just driven up their horses and were preparing to make a move of the camp, when they saw the soldiers coming down upon them. a great many of them succeeded in jumping upon their ponies, and, leaving every thing behind them, advanced out of the village and prepared to meet the charge; but upon second thought they quickly concluded that it was useless to try to check us, and, those who were mounted rapidly rode away, while the others on foot fled for safety to the neighboring hills. we went through their village shooting right and left at everything we saw. the pawnees, the regular soldiers and the officers were all mixed up together, and the sioux were flying in every direction. general carr had instructed the command that when they entered the village, they must keep a sharp look out for white women, as he was confident the indians had some captives. the company which had been ordered to take possession of the village after its capture, soon found two white women, one of whom had just been killed and the other wounded. they were both swedes, and the survivor could not talk english. a swedish soldier, however, was soon found who could talk with her. the name of this woman was mrs. weichel, and her story as told to the soldier was, that as soon as the indians saw the troops coming down upon them, a squaw--tall bull's wife--had killed mrs. alderdice, the other captive, with a hatchet, and then wounded her. this squaw had evidently intended to kill both women to prevent them from telling how cruelly they had been treated. [illustration: indian village.] the attack lasted but a short time, and the indians were driven several miles away. the soldiers then gathered in the herd of indian horses, which were running at large over the country and drove them back to the camp. after taking a survey of what we had accomplished, it was found that we had killed about one hundred and forty indians, and captured one hundred and twenty squaws and papooses, two hundred lodges, and eight hundred horses and mules. the village proved to be one of the richest i had ever seen. the red-skins had everything pertaining to an indian camp, besides numerous articles belonging to the white settlers whom they had killed on the saline. the pawnees, as well as the soldiers, ransacked the camp for curiosities, and found enough to start twenty museums, besides a large amount of gold and silver. this money had been stolen from the swedish settlers whom they had murdered on the saline. general carr ordered that all the tepees, the indian lodges, buffalo robes, all camp equipage and provisions, including dried buffalo meat, amounting to several tons, should be gathered in piles and burned. a grave was dug in which the dead swedish woman, mrs. alderdice, was buried. captain kane, a religious officer, read the burial service, as we had no chaplain with us. while this was going on, the sioux warriors having recovered from their surprise, had come back and a battle took place all around the camp. i was on the skirmish line, and i noticed an indian, who was riding a large bay horse, and giving orders to his men in his own language--which i could occasionally understand--telling them that they had lost everything, that they were ruined, and he entreated them to follow him, and fight until they died. his horse was an extraordinary one, fleet as the wind, dashing here and there, and i determined to capture him if possible, but i was afraid to fire at the indian for fear of killing the horse. i noticed that the indian, as he rode around the skirmish line, passed the head of a ravine not far distant, and it occurred to me that if i could dismount and creep to the ravine i could, as he passed there, easily drop him from his saddle without danger of hitting the horse. accordingly i crept into and secreted myself in the ravine, reaching the place unseen by the indians, and i waited there until mr. chief came riding by. when he was not more than thirty yards distant i fired, and the next moment he tumbled from his saddle, and the horse kept on without his rider. instead of running toward the indians, however, he galloped toward our men, by one of whom he was caught. lieutenant mason, who had been very conspicuous in the fight and who had killed two or three indians himself, single-handed, came galloping up to the ravine and jumping from his horse, secured the fancy war bonnet from the head of the dead chief, together with all his other accoutrements. we both then rejoined the soldiers, and i at once went in search of the horse; i found him in the possession of sergeant mcgrath, who had caught him. the sergeant knew that i had been trying to get the animal and having seen me kill his rider, he handed him over to me at once. little did i think at that time that i had captured a horse which, for four years afterwards was the fastest runner in the state of nebraska, but such proved to be the fact. [illustration: the killing of tall bull.] i jumped on his back and rode him down to the spot where the prisoners were corraled. one of the squaws among the prisoners suddenly began crying in a pitiful and hysterical manner at the sight of this horse, and upon inquiry i found that she was tall bull's wife, the same squaw that had killed one of the white women and wounded the other. she stated that this was her husband's favorite war-horse, and that only a short time ago she had seen tall bull riding him. i gave her to understand that her liege lord had passed in his mortal chips and that it would be sometime before he would ride his favorite horse again, and i informed her that henceforth i should call the gallant steed "tall bull," in honor of her husband. late in the evening our wagon train arrived, and placing the wounded woman, mrs. weichel, in the ambulance--she having been kindly attended to by the surgeons,--and gathering up the prisoners--the squaws and papooses--and captured stock, we started at once for the south platte river, eight miles distant, and there went into camp. next morning general carr issued an order that all the money found in the village should be turned over to the adjutant. about one thousand dollars was thus collected, and the entire amount was given to mrs. weichel. the command then proceeded to fort sedgwick, from which point the particulars of our fight, which took place on sunday, july 11th, 1869, were telegraphed to all parts of the country. we remained at this post for two weeks, during which general augur, of the department of the platte, paid us a visit, and highly complimented the command for the gallant service it had performed. for this fight at summit springs general carr and his command were complimented not only in general orders, but received a vote of thanks from the legislatures of nebraska and colorado--as tall bull and his indians had long been a terror to the border settlements--and the resolutions of thanks were elegantly engrossed and sent to general carr. the wounded white woman was cared for in the hospital at this post, and after her recovery she soon married the hospital steward, her former husband having been killed by the indians. our prisoners were sent to the whetstone agency, on the missouri river, where spotted tail and the friendly sioux were then living. the captured horses and mules were distributed among the officers, scouts and soldiers. among the animals that i thus obtained were my tall bull horse, and a pony which i called "powder face," and which afterwards became quite celebrated, as he figured prominently in the stories of ned buntline. one day, while we were lying at fort sedgwick, general carr received a telegram from fort mcpherson stating that the indians had made a dash on the union pacific railroad, and had killed several section-men and run off some stock near o'fallon's station; also that an expedition was going out from fort mcpherson to catch and punish the red-skins if possible. the general ordered me to accompany the expedition, and accordingly that night i proceeded by rail to mcpherson station, and from thence rode on horseback to the fort. two companies, under command of major brown, had been ordered out, and next morning, just as we were about to start, major brown said to me: "by the way, cody, we are going to have quite an important character with us as a guest on this scout. it's old ned buntline, the novelist." just then i noticed a gentleman, who was rather stoutly built, and who wore a blue military coat, on the left breast of which were pinned about twenty gold medals and badges of secret societies. he walked a little lame as he approached us, and i at once concluded that he was ned buntline. "he has a good mark to shoot at on the left breast," said i to major brown, "but he looks like a soldier." as he came up, major brown said: "cody, allow me to introduce you to colonel e.b.o. judson, otherwise known as ned buntline." "colonel judson, i am glad to meet you," said i; "the major tells me that you are to accompany us on the scout." "yes, my boy, so i am," said he; "i was to deliver a temperance lecture to-night, but no lectures for me when there is a prospect for a fight. the major has kindly offered me a horse, but i don't know how i'll stand the ride, for i haven't done any riding lately; but when i was a young man i spent several years among the fur companies of the northwest, and was a good rider and an excellent shot." "the major has given you a fine horse, and you'll soon find yourself at home in the saddle," said i. the command soon pulled out for the south platte river, which was very wide and high, owing to recent mountain rains, and in crossing it we had to swim our horses in some places. buntline was the first man across. we reached o'fallon's at eleven o'clock, and in a short time i succeeded in finding the indian trail; the party seemed to be a small one, which had come up from the south. we followed their track to the north platte, but as they had a start of two days, major brown abandoned the pursuit, and returned to fort mcpherson, while i went back to fort sedgwick, accompanied by buntline. during this short scout, buntline had asked me a great many questions, and he was determined to go out on the next expedition with me, providing he could obtain permission from the commanding officer. i introduced him to the officers--excepting those he already knew--and invited him to become my guest while he remained at the post, and gave him my pony powder face to ride. by this time i had learned that my horse tall bull was a remarkably fast runner, and therefore when lieutenant mason, who was quite a sport and owned a racer, challenged me to a race, i immediately accepted it. we were to run our horses a single dash of half a mile for one hundred dollars a side. several of the officers, and also reub. wood, the post-trader, bantered me for side bets, and i took them all until i had put up my last cent on tall bull. the ground was measured off, the judges were selected, and all other preliminaries were arranged. we rode our horses ourselves, and coming up to the score nicely we let them go. i saw from the start that it would be mere play to beat the lieutenant's horse, and therefore i held tall bull in check, so that none could see how fast he really could run. i easily won the race, and pocketed a snug little sum of money. of course everybody was now talking horse. major north remarked that if tall bull could beat the pawnees' fast horse, i could break his whole command. the next day the troops were paid off, the pawnees with the rest, and for two or three days they did nothing but run horse-races, as all the recently captured horses had to be tested to find out the swiftest among them. finally the pawnees wanted to run their favorite horse against tall bull, and i accordingly arranged a race with them. they raised three hundred dollars and bet it on their horse, while of course, i backed tall bull with an equal amount, and in addition took numerous side bets. the race was a single dash of a mile, and tall bull won it without any difficulty. i was ahead on this race about seven hundred dollars, and the horse was fast getting a reputation. heretofore nobody would bet on him, but now he had plenty of backers. i also made a race for my pony powder face, against a fast pony belonging to captain lute north. i selected a small boy, living at the post to ride powder face, while an indian boy was to ride the other pony. the pawnees as usual wanted to bet on their pony, but as i had not yet fully ascertained the running qualities of powder face, i did not care about risking very much money on him. had i known him as well then as i did afterwards i would have backed him for every dollar i had, for he proved to be one of the swiftest ponies i ever saw, and had evidently been kept as a racer. the race was to be four hundred yards, and when i led the pony over the track he seemed to understand what he was there for. north and i finally put the riders on, and it was all i could do to hold the fiery little animal after the boy became seated on his back. he jumped around and made such quick movements, that the boy was not at all confident of being able to stay on him. the order to start was at last given by the judges, and as i brought powder face up to the score and the word "go" was given, he jumped away so quickly that he left his rider sitting on the ground; notwithstanding he ran through and won the race without him. it was an easy victory, and after that i could get up no more races. thus passed the time while we were at fort sedgwick. general carr having obtained a leave of absence, colonel royal was given the command of an expedition that was ordered to go out after the indians, and in a few days--after having rested a couple of weeks--we set out for the republican; having learned that there were plenty of indians in that section of the country. at frenchman's fork we discovered an indian village, but did not surprise it, for its people had noticed us approaching, and were retreating when we reached their camping-place. we chased them down the stream, and they finally turned to the left, went north, and crossed the south platte river five miles above ogallala. we pushed rapidly after them, following them across the north platte and on through the sand-hills towards the niobrara; but as they were making much better time than we, the pursuit was abandoned. while we were in the sand-hills, scouting the niobrara country, the pawnee indians brought into camp, one night, some very large bones, one of which a surgeon of the expedition pronounced to be the thigh-bone of a human being. the indians claimed that the bones they had found were those of a person belonging to a race of people who a long time ago lived in this country. that there was once a race of men on the earth whose size was about three times that of an ordinary man, and they were so swift and powerful that they could run along-side of a buffalo, and taking the animal in one arm could tear off a leg and eat the meat as they walked. these giants denied the existence of a great spirit, and when they heard the thunder or saw the lightning they laughed at it and said that they were greater than either. this so displeased the great spirit that he caused a great rain-storm to come, and the water kept rising higher and higher so that it drove those proud and conceited giants from the low grounds to the hills, and thence to the mountains, but at last even the mountain tops were submerged, and then those mammoth men were all drowned. after the flood had subsided, the great spirit came to the conclusion that he had made man too large and powerful, and that he would therefore correct the mistake by creating a race of men of smaller size and less strength. this is the reason, say the indians, that modern men are small and not like the giants of old, and they claim that this story is a matter of indian history, which has been handed down among them from time immemorial. as we had no wagons with us at the time this large and heavy bone was found, we were obliged to leave it. chapter xxiii. administering justice. on returning to fort mcpherson we found that brevet major general w.h. emory, colonel of the fifth cavalry, and brevet brigadier general thomas duncan, lieutenant colonel of the regiment, had arrived there during our absence. general emory had been appointed to the command of the district of the republican, with headquarters at fort mcpherson. as the command had been continually in the field, it was generally thought that we were to have a long rest; and it looked as if this post was to be my home and headquarters for some time to come. i accordingly sent to st. louis for my wife and daughter to join me there. general emory promised to build a house for me, but before the building was completed my family arrived. during the fall of 1869 there were two or three scouting expeditions sent out; but nothing of very great importance was accomplished by them. i found fort mcpherson to be a lively and pleasant post to be stationed at, especially as there was plenty of game in the vicinity, and within a day's ride there were large herds of deer, antelope and elk. during the winter of 1869-70 i spent a great deal of time in pursuit of game, and during the season we had two hunting parties of englishmen there; one party being that of mr. flynn, and the other that of george boyd houghton, of london--the well known caricaturist. among their amusements were several horse races, which i arranged, and in which tall bull and powder face were invariably the winners. tall bull by this time had such a reputation as a running horse, that it was difficult to make a race for him. i remember one however, in which he ran against a horse in captain spaulding's company of the second cavalry. this race was rather a novel affair. i had made a bet that tall bull would beat the second cavalry horse around a one mile track, and, during the time that he was running, i would jump off and on the horse eight times. i rode the horse bareback; seized his mane with my left hand, rested my right on his withers, and while he was going at full speed, i jumped to the ground, and sprang again upon his back, eight times in succession. such feats i had seen performed in the circus and i had practiced considerably at it with tall bull, so that i was certain of winning the race in the manner agreed upon. early one morning, in the spring of 1870, the indians, who had approached during the night, stole some twenty-one head of horses from mr. john burke--a government contractor--ben. gallagher and jack waite. they also ran off some horses from the post; among the number being my pony powder face. the commandant at once ordered out lieutenant thomas with company i of the fifth cavalry, and directed me to accompany them as trailer. we discovered the trail after some little difficulty, as the indians were continually trying to hide it, and followed it sixty miles, when darkness set in. we were now within about four miles of red willow creek and i felt confident the indians would camp that night in that vicinity. advising lieutenant thomas to halt his company and "lay low" i proceeded on to the creek, where, moving around cautiously, i suddenly discovered horses feeding in a bend of the stream on the opposite side. i hurried back to the troops with the information, and lieutenant thomas moved his company to the bank of the creek, with the intention of remaining there until daylight, and then, if possible, surprise the indians. just at break of day we mounted our horses, and after riding a short distance we ascended a slight elevation, when, not over one hundred yards distant, we looked down into the indian camp. the indians, preparing to make an early start, had driven up their horses and were in the act of mounting, when they saw us charging down upon them. in a moment they sprang upon their ponies and dashed away. had it not been for the creek, which lay between us and them, we would have got them before they could have mounted their horses; but as it was rather miry, we were unexpectedly delayed. the indians fired some shots at us while we were crossing, but as soon as we got across we went for them in hot pursuit. a few of the red-skins had not had time to mount and had started on foot down the creek toward the brush. one of these was killed. a number of our soldiers, who had been detailed before the charge to gather up any of the indian horses that would be stampeded, succeeded in capturing thirty-two. i hurriedly looked over them to see if powder face was among them; but he was not there. starting in pursuit of the fugitives i finally espied an indian mounted on my favorite, dashing away and leading all the others. we continued the chase for two or three miles, overtaking a couple who were mounted upon one horse. coming up behind them i fired my rifle, when about thirty feet distant; the ball passed through the backs of both, and they fell headlong to the ground; but i made no stop however just then, for i had my eye on the gentleman who was riding powder face. it seemed to be fun for him to run away from us, and run away he did, for the last i saw of him was when he went over a divide, about three miles away. i bade him adieu. on my way back to the indian camp i stopped and secured the war bonnets and accoutrements of the pair i had killed, and at the same time gently "raised their hair." we were feeling rather tired and hungry, as we had started out on the trail thirty-six hours before without a breakfast or taking any food with us; but not a murmur or complaint was heard among the men. in the abandoned indian camp, however, we found enough dried buffalo meat to give us all a meal, and after remaining there for two hours, to rest our animals, we started on our return to fort mcpherson, where we arrived at night, having traveled 130 miles in two days. this being the first fight lieutenant thomas had ever commanded in, he felt highly elated over his success, and hoped that his name would be mentioned in the special orders for gallantry; sure enough when we returned both he, myself and the whole command received a complimentary mention in a special order. this he certainly deserved for he was a brave, energetic, dashing little officer. the war bonnets which i had captured i turned over to general carr, with the request that he present them to general augur, whose daughters were visiting at the post at the time. shortly after this, another expedition was organized at fort mcpherson for the republican river country. it was commanded by general duncan, who was a jolly, blustering old fellow, and the officers who knew him well, said that we would have a good time, as he was very fond of hunting. he was a good fighter, and one of the officers said that an indian bullet never could hurt him, as he had been shot in the head with a cannon ball which had not injured him in the least; another said the ball glanced off and killed one of the toughest mules in the army. the pawnee scouts who had been mustered out of service, during the winter of 1869 and '70, were reorganized to accompany this expedition. i was glad of this, as i had become quite attached to one of the officers, major north, and to many of the indians. the only white scout we had at the post, besides myself at that time, was john y. nelson, whose indian name was cha-sha-cha-opoyeo,[c] which interpreted means red-willow-fill-the-pipe. this man is a character in his way; he has a sioux squaw for a wife, and consequently a half-breed family. john is a good fellow, though as a liar he has but few equals and no superior. [footnote c: since traveled with me in my dramatic combination as interpreter for sioux indians.] we started out from the post with the regimental band playing the lively air of "the girl i left behind me." we made but a short march that day, and camped at night at the head of fox creek. next morning general duncan sent me word by his orderly that i was to bring up my gun and shoot at a mark with him; but i can assure the reader that i did not feel much like shooting anything except myself, for on the night before, i had returned to fort mcpherson and spent several hours in interviewing the sutler's store, in company with major brown. i looked around for my gun, and found that i had left it behind. the last i could remember about it was that i had it at the sutler's store. i informed major brown of my loss, who said that i was a nice scout to start out without a gun. i replied that that was not the worst of it, as general duncan had sent for me to shoot a match with him, and i did not know what to do; for if the old gentleman discovered my predicament, he would very likely severely reprimand me. "well, cody," said he, "the best you can do is to make some excuse, and then go and borrow a gun from some of the men, and tell the general that you lent yours to some man to go hunting with to-day. while we are waiting here, i will send back to the post and get your rifle for you." i succeeded in obtaining a gun from john nelson, and then marching up to the general's headquarters i shot the desired match with him, which resulted in his favor. this was the first scout the pawnees had been out on under command of general duncan, and in stationing his guards around the camp he posted them in a manner entirely different from that of general carr and colonel royal, and he insisted that the different posts should call out the hour of the night thus: "post no. 1, nine o'clock, all is well! post no. 2, nine o'clock, all is well!" etc. the pawnees, who had their regular turns at standing upon guard, were ordered to call the hour the same as the white soldiers. this was very difficult for them to do, as there were but few of them who could express themselves in english. major north explained to them that when the man on post next to them should call out the hour, they must call it also as near like him as possible. it was very amusing to hear them do this. they would try to remember what the other man had said on the post next to them. for instance, a white soldier would call out: "post no. i, half-past nine o'clock, all is well!" the indian standing next to him knew that he was bound to say something in english, and he would sing out something like the following: "poss number half pass five cents--go to ----! i don't care!" this system was really so ridiculous and amusing that the general had to give it up, and the order was accordingly countermanded. nothing of any great interest occurred on this march, until one day, while proceeding up prairie dog creek,[d] major north and myself went out in advance of the command several miles and killed a number of buffaloes. night was approaching, and i began to look around for a suitable camping ground for the command. major north dismounted from his horse and was resting, while i rode down to the stream to see if there was plenty of grass in the vicinity. i found an excellent camping spot, and returning to major north told him that i would ride over the hill a little way, so that the advance guard could see me. this i did, and when the advance came in sight i dismounted and laid down upon the grass to rest. [footnote d: near the lonely camp where i had so long been laid up with a broken leg, when trapping years before with dave harrington.] suddenly i heard three or four shots, and in a few moments major north came dashing up towards me, pursued by eight or ten indians. i instantly sprang into my saddle, and fired a few shots at the indians, who by this time had all come in sight, to the number of fifty. we turned our horses and ran, the bullets flying after us thick and fast--my whip being shot from my hand and daylight being put through the crown of my hat. we were in close quarters, when suddenly lieutenant valkmar came galloping up to our relief with several soldiers, and the indians seeing them whirled and retreated. as soon as major north got in sight of his pawnees, he began riding in a circle. this was a sign to them that there were hostile indians in front, and in a moment the pawnees broke ranks pell-mell and, with major north at their head, started for the flying warriors. the rest of the command pushed rapidly forward also, and chased the enemy for three or four miles, killing three of them. but this was a wrong move on our part, as their village was on prairie dog creek, while they led us in a different direction; one indian only kept straight on up the creek--a messenger to the village. some of the command, who had followed him, stirred up the village and accelerated its departure. we finally got back to the main force, and then learned that we had made a great mistake. now commenced another stern chase. the second day that we had been following these indians we came upon an old squaw, whom they had left on the prairie to die. her people had built for her a little shade or lodge, and had given her some provisions, sufficient to last her on her trip to the happy hunting grounds. this the indians often do when pursued by an enemy, and one of their number becomes too old and feeble to travel any longer. this squaw was recognized by john nelson who said that she was a relative of his wife. from her we learned that the flying indians were known as pawnee, killer's band, and that they had lately killed buck's surveying party, consisting of eight or nine men; the massacre having occurred a few days before on beaver creek. we knew that they had had a fight with surveyors, as we found quite a number of surveying instruments, which had been left in the abandoned camp. we drove these indians across the platte river and then returned to fort mcpherson, bringing the old squaw with us, from there she was sent to the spotted tail agency. during my absence, my wife had given birth to a son, and he was several weeks old when i returned. no name had yet been given him and i selected that of elmo judson, in honor of ned buntline; but this the officers and scouts objected to. major brown proposed that we should call him kit carson, and it was finally settled that that should be his name. during the summer we made one or two more scouts and had a few skirmishes with the indians: but nothing of any great importance transpired. in the fall of 1870, while i was a witness in a court martial at fort d.a. russell i woke up one morning and found that i was dead broke;--this is not an unusual occurrence to a frontiersman, or an author i may add, especially when he is endeavoring to kill time--to raise necessary funds i sold my race horse tall bull to lieutenant mason, who had long wanted him. in the winter of 1870 and 1871 i first met george watts garland, an english gentleman, and a great hunter, whom i had the pleasure of guiding on several hunts and with whom i spent some weeks. during the winter i also took several parties out on the loupe river country, hunting and trapping. although i was still chief of scouts i did not have much to do, as the indians were comparatively quiet, thus giving me plenty of time for sporting. in the spring of 1871 several short scouting expeditions were sent out from fort mcpherson, but all with minor results. about this time general emory was considerably annoyed by petty offenses committed in the vicinity of the post, and as there was no justice of the peace in the neighborhood, he was anxious to have such an officer there to attend to the civilians; one day he remarked to me that i would make an excellent justice. "general, you compliment me rather too highly, for i don't know any more about law than a government mule does about book-keeping," said i. "that doesn't make any difference," said he, "for i know that you will make a good 'squire." he accordingly had the county commissioners appoint me to the office of justice of the peace, and i soon received my commission. one morning a man came rushing up to my house and stated that he wanted to get out a writ of replevin, to recover possession of a horse which a stranger was taking out of the country. i had no blank forms, and had not yet received the statutes of nebraska to copy from, so i asked the man: "where is the fellow who has got your horse?" "he is going up the road, and is about two miles away," replied he. "very well," said i, "i will get the writ ready in a minute or two." i saddled up my horse, and then taking my old reliable gun, "lucretia," i said to the man: "that's the best writ of replevin that i can think of; come along, and we'll get that horse, or know the reason why." we soon overtook the stranger who was driving a herd of horses, and as we came up to him, i said: "hello, sir; i am an officer, and have an attachment for that horse," and at the same time i pointed out the animal. "well, sir, what are you going to do about it?" he inquired. "i propose to take you and the horse back to the post," said i. "you can take the horse," said he, "but i haven't the time to return with you." "you'll have to take the time, or pay the costs here and now," said i. "how much are the costs?" "twenty dollars." "here's your money," said he, as he handed me the greenbacks. i then gave him a little friendly advice, and told him that he was released from custody. he went on his way a wiser and a poorer man, while the owner of the horse and myself returned to the fort. i pocketed the twenty dollars, of course. some people might think it was not a square way of doing business, but i didn't know any better just then. i had several little cases of this kind, and i became better posted on law in the course of time, being assisted by lieutenant burr reilly, of the fifth cavalry, who had been educated for a lawyer. one evening i was called upon to perform a marriage ceremony. the bridegroom was one of the sergeants of the post. i had "braced up" for the occasion by imbibing rather freely of stimulants, and when i arrived at the house, with a copy of the statutes of nebraska, which i had recently received, i felt somewhat confused. whether my bewilderment was owing to the importance of the occasion and the large assembly, or to the effect of louis woodin's "tanglefoot," i cannot now distinctly remember--but my suspicions have always been that it was due to the latter cause. i looked carefully through the statutes to find the marriage ceremony, but my efforts were unsuccessful. finally the time came for the knot to be tied. i told the couple to stand up, and then i said to the bridegroom: "do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to support and love her through life?" "i do," was the reply. then addressing myself to the bride, i said, "do you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband through life, to love, honor and obey him?" [illustration: a wedding ceremony.] "i do," was her response. "then join hands," said i to both of them; "i now pronounce you to be man and wife, and whomsoever god and buffalo bill have joined together let no man put asunder. may you live long and prosper. amen." this concluded the interesting ceremony, which was followed by the usual festivities on such occasions. i was highly complimented for the elegant and eloquent manner in which i had tied the matrimonial knot. during the summer of 1871, professor marsh, of yale college, came out to mcpherson, with a large party of students to have a hunt and to look for fossils. professor marsh had heard of the big bone which had been found by the pawnees in the niobrara country, and he intended to look for that as well as other bones. he accordingly secured the services of major frank north and the pawnees as an escort. i was also to accompany the bone-hunters, and would have done so had it not been for the fact that just at that time i was ordered out with a small scouting party to go after some indians. [illustration: a ride for life.] the day before the professor arrived at the fort, i had been out hunting on the north side of the north platte river, near pawnee springs, with several companions, when we were suddenly attacked by indians, who wounded one of our number, john weister. we stood the indians off for a little while, and weister got even with them by killing one of their party. the indians, however, outnumbered us, and at last we were forced to make a run for our lives. in this we succeeded, and reached the fort in safety. the general wanted to have the indians pursued, and said he could not spare me to accompany professor marsh. however, i had the opportunity to make the acquaintance of the eminent professor, whom i found to be not only a well-posted person but a very entertaining gentleman. he gave me a geological history of the country; told me in what section fossils were to be found; and otherwise entertained me with several scientific yarns, some of which seemed too complicated and too mysterious to be believed by an ordinary man like myself; but it was all clear to him. i rode out with him several miles, as he was starting on his bone-hunting expedition, and i greatly enjoyed the ride. his party had been provided with government transportation and his students were all mounted on government horses. as we rode along he delivered a scientific lecture, and he convinced me that he knew what he was talking about. i finally bade him good-bye, and returned to the post. while the fossil-hunters were out on their expedition, we had several lively little skirmishes with the indians. after having been absent some little time professor marsh and his party came back with their wagons loaded down with all kinds of bones, and the professor was in his glory. he had evidently struck a bone-yard, and "gad!"[e] wasn't he happy! but they had failed to find the big bone which the pawnees had unearthed the year before. [footnote e: a favorite expression of the professor's.] chapter xxiv. hunting expedition. early in the month of september, 1871, information was received at fort mcpherson that general sheridan and a party of invited friends were coming out to the post to have a grand hunt in the vicinity, and to explore the country from mcpherson to fort hays, in kansas. on the morning of september 22d they arrived in a special car at north platte, a station on the union pacific, distant eighteen miles from fort mcpherson. the party consisted of general sheridan, lawrence r. jerome, james gordon bennett, of the _new york herald_; leonard w. jerome, carroll livingston, major j.g. hecksher, general fitzhugh, general h.e. davies, captain m. edward rogers, colonel j. scuyler crosby, samuel johnson, general anson stager, of the western union telegraph company; charles wilson, editor of the _chicago evening journal_; general rucker, quartermaster-general, and dr. asch--the two last-named being of general sheridan's staff. they were met at the station by general emory and major brown, with a cavalry company as escort and a sufficient number of vehicles to carry the distinguished visitors and their baggage. a brisk drive of less than two hours over a hard and smooth road brought them to the fort, where they found the garrison, consisting of five companies of the fifth cavalry, under the command of general carr, out on parade awaiting their arrival. the band played some martial music, and the cavalry passed very handsomely in review before general sheridan. the guests were then most hospitably received, and assigned to comfortable quarters. lieutenant hayes, the quartermaster of the expedition, arranged everything for the comfort of the party. one hundred cavalry under command of major brown were detailed as an escort. a train of sixteen wagons was provided to carry the baggage, supplies, and forage for the trip; and, besides these, there were three four-horse ambulances in which the guns were carried, and in which members of the party who became weary of the saddle might ride and rest. at general sheridan's request i was to accompany the expedition; he introduced me to all his friends, and gave me a good send-off. during the afternoon and evening the gentlemen were all entertained at the post in a variety of ways, including dinner and supper parties, and music and dancing; at a late hour they retired to rest in their tents at the camp which they occupied outside the post--named camp rucker in honor of general rucker. at five o'clock next morning a cavalry bugle sounded the _reveille_, and soon all were astir in the camp, preparatory to pulling out for the first day's march. i rose fresh and eager for the trip, and as it was a nobby and high-toned outfit which i was to accompany, i determined to put on a little style myself. so i dressed in a new suit of light buckskin, trimmed along the seams with fringes of the same material; and i put on a crimson shirt handsomely ornamented on the bosom, while on my head i wore a broad _sombrero_. then mounting a snowy white horse--a gallant stepper--i rode down from the fort to the camp, rifle in hand. i felt first-rate that morning, and looked well. the expedition was soon under way. our road for ten miles wound through a wooded ravine called cottonwood caã±on, intersecting the high ground, or divide, as it is called, between the platte and republican rivers. upon emerging from the caã±on we found ourselves upon the plains. first in the line rode general sheridan, followed by his guests, and then the orderlies. then came the ambulances, in one of which were carried five greyhounds, brought along to course the antelope and rabbit. with the ambulances marched a pair of indian ponies belonging to lieutenant hayes--captured during some indian fight--and harnessed to a light wagon, which general sheridan occasionally used. these little horses, but thirteen hands high, showed more vigor and endurance than any other of the animals we had with us. following the ambulances came the main body of the escort and the supply wagons. we marched seventeen miles the first day, and went into camp on fox creek, a tributary of the republican. no hunting had as yet been done; but i informed the gentlemen of the party that we would strike the buffalo country the next day. a hundred or more questions were then asked me by this one and that one, and the whole evening was spent principally in buffalo talk, sandwiched with stories of the plains--both of war and of the chase. several of the party, who were good vocalists, gave us some excellent music. we closed the evening by christening the camp, naming it camp brown, in honor of the gallant officer in command of the escort. at three o'clock next morning the bugle called us to an early start. we had breakfast at half-past four, and at six were in the saddle. all were eager to see and shoot the buffaloes which i assured them we would certainly meet during the day. after marching five miles, the advance guard, of which i had the command, discovered six buffaloes grazing at a distance of about two miles from us. we returned to the hunters with this information, and they at once consulted with me as to the best way to attack the "enemy." acting upon my suggestions, fitzhugh, crosby, lawrence jerome, livingston, hecksher and rogers, accompanied by myself as guide, rode through a convenient caã±on to a point beyond the buffaloes, so that we were to the windward of the animals. the rest of the party made a detour of nearly five miles, keeping behind the crest of a hill. we charged down upon the buffaloes, at full gallop, and just then the other party emerged from their concealment and witnessed the exciting chase. the buffaloes started off in a line, single file. fitzhugh, after a lively gallop, led us all and soon came alongside the rear buffalo, at which he fired. the animal faltered, and then with another shot fitzhugh brought him to the ground. crosby dashed by him and leveled another of the herd, while livingston dropped a third. those who were not directly engaged in the hunt now came up and congratulated the men upon their success, and fitzhugh was at once hailed as the winner of the buffalo cup; while all sympathized with hecksher, whose chance had been the best at the start, but who lost by reason of his horse falling and rolling over him. the hunt being over, the column moved forward on its march passing through a prairie-dog town, several miles in extent. these animals are found throughout the plains, living together in a sort of society; their numberless burrows in their "towns" adjoin each other, so that great care is necessary in riding through these places, as the ground is so undermined as often to fall in under the weight of a horse. around the entrance to their holes the ground is piled up almost a foot high; on these little elevations the prairie-dogs sit upon their hind legs, chattering to each other and observing whatever passes on the plains. they will permit a person to approach quite near, but when they have viewed him closely, they dive into their dens with wonderful quickness. they are difficult to kill, and if hit, generally succeed in crawling underground before they can be captured. rattlesnakes and small owls are generally found in great numbers in the prairie-dog towns, and live in the same holes with the dogs on friendly terms. a few of the prairie-dogs were killed, and were found to be very palatable eating. [illustration: prairie-dog village.] a short distance beyond the dog town we discovered a settlement of five white men, who proved to be the two clifford brothers, arthur ruff, dick seymour and john nelson--the latter already referred to in these pages. each of them had a squaw wife and numerous half-breed children, living in tents of buffalo skins. they owned a herd of horses and mules and a few cattle, and had cultivated a small piece of land. their principal occupation was hunting, and they had a large number of buffalo hides, which, they had tanned in the indian manner. upon reaching pleasant valley, on medicine creek, our party divided into two detachments--one hunting along the bank of the stream for elk or deer, and the other remaining with the main body of the escort. the elk hunters met with no success whatever, but the others ran across plenty of buffaloes, and nearly everybody killed one or more before the day was over. lawrence jerome made an excellent shot; while riding in an ambulance he killed a buffalo which attempted to cross the line of march. at about four o'clock p.m., we arrived at mitchell's fork of the medicine, having traveled thirty-five miles during that day, and there we went into camp--calling it camp jack hayes, in honor of lieutenant hayes. on the next morning, the 25th, we moved out of camp at eight o'clock. the party was very successful through the day in securing game, hecksher, fitzhugh, livingston and lieutenant hayes; and in fact all did good shooting. lawrence jerome persuaded me to let him ride buckskin joe, the best buffalo horse in the whole outfit, and on his back he did wonders among the buffaloes. leonard jerome, bennett and rogers also were very successful in buffalo hunting. our camp of this night was named camp asch to commemorate our surgeon, dr. asch. the evening was pleasantly spent around the camp fires in relating the adventures of the day. upon crossing the republican river on the morning of the 26th, we came upon an immense number of buffaloes scattered over the country in every direction, as far as the eye could reach and all had an opportunity to do as much hunting as they wished. the wagons and troops moved slowly along in the direction of the next camp, while the hunters went off separately, or by twos and threes, in different directions, and all were rewarded with abundant success. lawrence jerome, however, had his career suddenly checked. he had dismounted to make a steady and careful shot, and thoughtlessly let go of the bridle. the buffalo failing to take a tumble, as he ought to have done, started off at a lively gait, followed by buckskin joe--the horse being determined to do some hunting on his own account--the last seen of him, he was a little ahead of the buffalo, and gaining slightly, leaving his late rider to his own reflections and the prospect of a tramp; his desolate condition was soon discovered and another horse warranted not to run under any provocation, was sent to him. it maybe stated here that three days afterwards, as i subsequently learned, buckskin joe, all saddled and bridled, turned up at fort mcpherson. we pitched our tents for the night in a charming spot on the bank of beaver creek. the game was so abundant that we remained there one day. this stopping place was called. camp cody, in honor of the reader's humble servant. the next day was spent in hunting jack-rabbits, coyotes, elks, antelopes and wild turkeys. we had a splendid dinner as will be seen from the following: bill of fare. soup. buffalo tail. fish. cisco broiled, fried dace. entrees. salmi of prairie dog, stewed rabbit, fillet of buffalo, aux champignons. roast. elk, antelope, black-tailed deer, wild turkey. broiled. teal, mallard, antelope chops, buffalo-calf steaks, young wild turkey. vegetables. sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green peas. dessert. tapioca pudding. wines. champagne frappe, champagne au naturel, claret, whiskey, brandy, bass' ale. coffee. this i considered a pretty square meal for a party of hunters, and everybody did ample justice to it. in the evening a court-martial was held, at which i presided as chief justice. we tried one of the gentlemen for aiding and abetting in the loss of a government horse, and for having something to do with the mysterious disappearance of a colt's pistol. he was charged also with snoring in a manner that was regarded as fiendish, and with committing a variety of other less offenses too numerous to mention. the accused made a feeble defense as to the pistol, and claimed that instead of losing a government horse, the fact was that the horse had lost him. his statements were all regarded as "too thin," and finally failing to prove good character, he confessed all, and threw himself upon the mercy of the court. the culprit was lawrence jerome. as chief justice i delivered the opinion of the court, which my modesty does not prevent me from saying, was done in an able and dignified manner; as an act of clemency i suspended judgment for the time being, remarking that while the camp fire held out to burn, the vilest sinner might return; and in hope of the accused's amendment, i would defer pronouncing sentence. the trial afforded its considerable amusement, and gave me a splendid opportunity to display the legal knowledge which i had acquired while acting as justice of the peace at fort mcpherson. on the morning of the 28th the command crossed the south beaver, distant nine miles from camp cody, and then striking a fair road we made a rapid march until we reached our camp on short nose or prairie dog creek, about 2 p. m., after having made twenty-four miles. the remainder of the afternoon was spent in hunting buffaloes and turkeys. camp stager was the name given to this place, in honor of general stager, of the western union telegraph company. the next day we made a march of twenty-four miles, and then halted at about 1 p. m. on the north solomon river. this day we killed three buffaloes, two antelopes, two raccoons, and three teal ducks. near our camp, which we named camp leonard jerome, was a beaver dam some six feet high and twenty yards wide; it was near the junction of two streams, and formed a pond of at least four acres. on the 30th we traveled twenty-five miles, and during the march nine turkeys, two rabbits, and three or four buffaloes were killed. we went into camp on the bank of the south fork of the solomon river and called the place camp sam johnson. we were now but forty-five miles from fort hays, the point at which general sheridan and his guests expected to strike the kansas pacific railway, and thence return home. that evening i volunteered to ride to fort hays and meet the party next day, bringing with me all the letters that might be at the post. taking the best horse in the command i started out, expecting to make the trip in about four hours. the next morning the command got an early start and traveled thirty miles to saline river, where they made their last camp on the plains. as some of the party were attacking a herd of buffaloes, i rode in from fort hays and got into the middle of the herd, and killed a buffalo or two before the hunters observed me. i brought a large number of letters, which proved welcome reading matter. in the evening we gathered around the camp-fire for the last time. the duty of naming the camp, which was called camp davies, having been duly performed, we all united in making that night the pleasantest of all that we had spent together. we had eloquent speeches, songs, and interesting anecdotes. i was called upon, and entertained the gentlemen with some lively indian stories. the excursionists reached fort hays, distant fifteen miles, on the morning of october 2d, where we pitched our tents for the last time, and named the camp in honor of mr. hecksher. that same afternoon general sheridan and his guests took the train for the east, after bidding major browa, lieutenant hayes and myself a hearty good-bye, and expressing themselves as greatly pleased with their hunt, and the manner in which they had been escorted and guided. it will be proper and fair to state here that general davies afterwards wrote an interesting account of this hunt and published it in a neat volume of sixty-eight pages, under the title of "ten days on the plains." i would have inserted the volume bodily in this book, were it not for the fact that the general has spoken in a rather too complimentary manner of me. however, i have taken the liberty in this chapter to condense from the little volume, and in some places i have used the identical language of general davies without quoting the same; in fact, to do the general justice, i ought to close this chapter with several lines of quotation marks to be pretty generally distributed by the reader throughout my account of our ten days' hunt. soon after the departure of general sheridan's party, we returned to fort mcpherson and found general carr about to start out on a twenty days' scout, not so much for the purpose of finding indians, but more for the object of taking some friends on a hunt. his guests were a couple of englishmen,--whose names i cannot now remember--and mr. mccarthy, of syracuse, new york, who was a relative of general emory. the command consisted of three companies of the fifth cavalry, one company of pawnee indians, and twenty-five wagons. of course i was called on to accompany the expedition. one day, after we had been out from the post for some little time, i was hunting on deer creek, in company with mr. mccarthy, about eight miles from the command. i had been wishing for several days to play a joke on him, and had arranged a plan with captain lute north to carry it into execution. i had informed north at about what time we would be on deer creek, and it was agreed that he should appear in the vicinity with some of his pawnees, who were to throw their blankets around them, and come dashing down upon us, firing and whooping in true indian style; while he was to either conceal or disguise himself. this programme was faithfully and completely carried out. i had been talking about indians to mccarthy, and he had become considerably excited, when just as we turned a bend of the creek, we saw not half a mile from us about twenty indians, who instantly started for us on a gallop, firing their guns and yelling at the top of their voices. "mccarthy, shall we dismount and fight, or run?" said i. he didn't wait to reply, but wheeling his horse, started at full speed down the creek, losing his hat and dropping his gun; away he went, never once looking back to see if he was being pursued. i tried to stop him by yelling at him and saying that it was all right, as the indians were pawnees. unfortunately he did not hear me, but kept straight on, not stopping his horse until he reached the camp. [illustration: mccarthy's fright.] i knew that he would tell general carr that the indians had jumped him, and that the general would soon start out with the troops. so as soon as the pawnees rode up to me i told them to remain there while i went after my friend. i rode after him as fast as possible, but he had arrived at the command some time before me and when i got there the general had, as i had suspected he would do, ordered out two companies of cavalry to go in pursuit of the indians. i told the general that the indians were only some pawnees, who had been out hunting and that they had merely played a joke upon us. i forgot to inform him that i had put up the trick, but as he was always fond of a good joke himself, he did not get very angry. i had picked up mccarthy's hat and gun which i returned to him, and it was some time afterwards before he discovered who was at the bottom of the affair. when we returned to fort mcpherson we found there mr. royal buck, whose father had been killed with his entire party by pawnee killer's band of indians on the beaver creek. he had a letter from the commanding officer of the department requesting that he be furnished with an escort to go in search of the remains of his father and the party. two companies of cavalry were sent with him and i accompanied them as guide. as the old squaw, which we had captured, and of which mention is made in a previous chapter, could not exactly tell us the place on beaver creek where the party had been killed, we searched the country over for two days and discovered no signs of the murdered men. at last, however, our efforts were rewarded with success. we found pieces of their wagons and among other things an old letter or two which mr. buck recognized as his father's handwriting. we then discovered some of the remains, which we buried; but nothing further. it was now getting late in the fall and we accordingly returned to fort mcpherson. a short time after this the fifth cavalry was ordered to arizona, a not very desirable country to soldier in. i had become greatly attached to the officers of the regiment, having been continually with them for over three years, and had about made up my mind to accompany them, when a letter was received from general sheridan instructing the commanding officer "not to take cody" with him, and saying that i was to remain in my old position. in a few days the command left for its destination, taking the cars at mcpherson station, where i bade my old friends adieu. during the next few weeks i had but little to do, as the post was garrisoned by infantry, awaiting the arrival of the third cavalry. [illustration: finding the remains of the buck party.] chapter xxv. hunting with a grand duke. about the first of january, 1872, general forsyth and dr. asch, of sheridan's staff came out to fort mcpherson to make preparations for a big buffalo hunt for the grand duke alexis, of russia; and as this was to be no ordinary affair, these officers had been sent by general sheridan to have all the necessary arrangements perfected by the time the grand duke should arrive. they learned from me that there were plenty of buffaloes in the vicinity and especially on the red willow, sixty miles distant. they said they would like to go over on the red willow and pick out a suitable place for the camp; they also inquired the location of the spotted tail, sioux indians. spotted tail had permission from the government to hunt the buffalo, with his people during the winter, in the republican river country. it was my opinion that they were located somewhere on the frenchman's fork about one hundred and fifty miles from fort mcpherson. general sheridan's commissioners informed me, that he wished me to visit spotted tail's camp, and induce about one hundred of the leading warriors and chiefs, to come to the point where it should be decided to locate the alexis hunting camp, and to be there by the time the grand duke should arrive, so that he could see a body of american indians and observe the manner in which they killed buffaloes. the indians would also be called upon to give a grand war dance in honor of the distinguished visitor. next morning general forsyth and dr. asch, accompanied by captain hays, who had been left at fort mcpherson in charge of the fifth cavalry horses, taking an ambulance and a light wagon, to carry their tents, and provisions sufficient to last them two or three days; started, under my guidance, with a small escort, for red willow creek, arriving there at night. the next day we selected a pleasant camping place on a little knoll in the valley of the red willow. general forsyth and his party returned to the post the next day while i left for spotted tail's camp. the weather was very cold and i found my journey by no means a pleasant one as i was obliged to camp out with only my saddle blankets; and besides, there was more or less danger from the indians themselves; for, although spotted tail himself was friendly, i was afraid i might have difficulty in getting into his camp. i was liable at any moment to run into a party of his young men who might be out hunting, and as i had many enemies among the sioux, i would be running considerable risk in meeting them. at the end of the first day i camped on stinking water, a tributary of the frenchman's fork, where i built a little fire in the timber; but it was so very cold i was not able to sleep much. getting an early start in the morning i followed up the frenchman's fork and late in the afternoon i could see, from the fresh horse tracks and from the dead buffaloes lying here and there, recently killed, that i was nearing spotted tail's camp. i rode on for a few miles further, and then hiding my horse in a low ravine, i crawled up a high hill, where i obtained a good view of the country. i could see for four or five miles up the creek, and got sight of a village and of two or three hundred ponies in its vicinity. i waited until night came and then i succeeded in riding into the indian camp unobserved. [illustration: spotted tail.] i had seen spotted tail's camp when he came from the north and i knew the kind of lodge he was living in. as i entered the village i wrapped a blanket around my head so that the indians could not tell whether i was a white or a red man. in this way i rode around until i found spotted tail's lodge. dismounting from my horse i opened his tent door and looked in and saw the old chief lying on some robes. i spoke to him and he recognized me at once and invited me to enter. inside the lodge i found a white man, an old frontiersman, todd randall, who was spotted tail's agent and who had lived a great many years with the indians. he understood their language perfectly and did all the interpreting for spotted tail. through him i readily communicated with the chief and informed him of my errand. i told him that the warriors and chiefs would greatly please general sheridan if they would meet him in about ten sleeps at the old government crossing of the red willow. i further informed him that there was a great chief from across the water who was coming there to visit him. spotted tail replied that he would be very glad to go; that the next morning he would call his people together and select those who would accompany him. i told spotted tail how i had entered his camp. he replied that i had acted wisely; that although his people were friendly, yet some of his young men had a grudge against me, and i might have had difficulty with them had i met them away from the village. he directed his squaw to get me something to eat, and ordered that my horse be taken care of, and upon his invitation i spent the remainder of the night in his lodge. next morning the chiefs and warriors assembled according to orders, and to them was stated the object of my visit. they were asked: "do you know who this man is?" "yes, we know him well," replied one, "that is pa-he-haska," (that being my name among the sioux, which translated means "long hair") "that is our old enemy," a great many of the indians, who were with spotted tail at this time, had been driven out of the republican country. "that is he," said spotted tail. "i want all my people to be kind to him and treat him as my friend." i noticed that several of them were looking daggers at me. they appeared as if they wished to raise my hair then and there. spotted tail motioned and i followed him into his lodge, and thereupon the indians dispersed. having the assurance of spotted tail that none of the young men would follow me i started back for the red willow, arriving the second night. there i found captain egan with a company of the second cavalry and a wagon train loaded with tents, grain, provisions, etc. the men were leveling off the ground and were making preparations to put up large wall tents for the grand duke alexis and his _suite_, and for general sheridan, his staff and other officers, and invited guests of the party. proceeding to fort mcpherson i reported what had been done. thereupon quartermaster hays selected from the five or six hundred horses in his charge, seventy-five of the very best, which were sent to the red willow, to be used by alexis and his party at the coming hunt. in a day or two a large supply of provisions, liquors, etc., arrived from chicago, together with bedding and furniture for the tents; all of which were sent over to camp alexis. [illustration: grand duke alexis.] at last, on the morning of the 12th of january, 1872, the grand duke and party arrived at north platte by special train; in charge of a mr. francis thompson. captain hays and myself, with five or six ambulances, fifteen or twenty extra saddle-horses and a company of cavalry under captain egan, were at the dã©pã´t in time to receive them. presently general sheridan and a large, fine-looking young man, whom we at once concluded to be the grand duke came out of the cars and approached us. general sheridan at once introduced me to the grand duke as buffalo bill, for he it was, and said that i was to take charge of him and show him how to kill buffalo. in less than half an hour the whole party were dashing away towards the south, across the south platte and towards the medicine; upon reaching which point we halted for a change of horses and a lunch. resuming our ride we reached camp alexis in the afternoon. general sheridan was well pleased with the arrangements that had been made and was delighted to find that spotted tail and his indians had arrived on time. they were objects of great curiosity to the grand duke, who spent considerable time in looking at them, and watching their exhibitions of horsemanship, sham fights, etc. that evening the indians gave the grand war dance, which i had arranged for. [illustration: indian exercises.] general custer, who was one of the hunting party, carried on a mild flirtation with one of spotted tail's daughters, who had accompanied her father thither, and it was noticed also that the duke alexis paid considerable attention to another handsome red-skin maiden. the night passed pleasantly, and all retired with great expectations of having a most enjoyable and successful buffalo hunt. the duke alexis asked me a great many questions as to how we shot buffaloes, and what kind of a gun or pistol we used, and if he was going to have a good horse. i told him that he was to have my celebrated buffalo horse buckskin joe, and when we went into a buffalo herd all he would have to do was to sit on the horse's back and fire away. at nine o'clock next morning we were all in our saddles, and in a few minutes were galloping over the prairies in search of a buffalo herd. we had not gone far before we observed a herd some distance ahead of us crossing our way; after that we proceeded cautiously, so as to keep out of sight until we were ready to make a charge. of course the main thing was to give alexis the first chance and the best shot at the buffaloes, and when all was in readiness we dashed over a little knoll that had hidden us from view, and in a few minutes we were among them. alexis at first preferred to use his pistol instead of a gun. he fired six shots from this weapon at buffaloes only twenty feet away from him, but as he shot wildly, not one of his bullets took effect. riding up to his side and seeing that his weapon was empty, i exchanged pistols with him. he again fired six shots, without dropping a buffalo. seeing that the animals were bound to make their escape without his killing one of them, unless he had a better weapon, i rode up to him, gave him my old reliable "lucretia," and told him to urge his horse close to the buffaloes, and i would then give him the word when to shoot. at the same time i gave old buckskin joe a blow with my whip, and with a few jumps the horse carried the grand duke to within about ten feet of a big buffalo bull. "now is your time," said i. he fired, and down went the buffalo. the grand duke stopped his horse, dropped his gun on the ground, and commenced waving his hat. when his _suite_ came galloping up, he began talking to them in a tongue which i could not understand. presently general sheridan joined the group, and the ambulances were brought up. very soon the corks began to fly from the champagne bottles, in honor of the grand duke alexis, who had killed the first buffalo. it was reported in a great many of the newspapers that i shot the first buffalo for alexis, while in some it was stated that i held the buffalo while his royal highness killed it. but the way i have related the affair is the correct version. it was thought that we had had about sport enough for one day, and accordingly i was directed by general sheridan to guide the party back to camp, and we were soon on our way thither. several of the party, however, concluded to have a little hunt on their own account, and presently we saw them galloping over the prairie in different directions in pursuit of buffaloes. while we were crossing a deep ravine, on our way to camp, we ran into a small band of buffaloes that had been frightened by some of the hunters. as they rushed past us, not more than thirty yards distant, alexis raised his pistol, fired and killed a buffalo cow. it was either an extraordinary good shot or a "scratch"--probably the latter, for it surprised the grand duke as well as everybody else. we gave him three cheers, and when the ambulance came up we took a pull at the champagne in honor of the grand duke's success. i was in hopes that he would kill five or six more buffaloes before we reached camp, especially if a basket of champagne was to be opened every time he dropped one. general sheridan directed me to take care of the hides and heads of the buffaloes which alexis had killed, as the duke wished to keep them as souvenirs of the hunt. i also cut out the choice meat from the cow and brought it into camp, and that night at supper alexis had the pleasure of dining on broiled buffalo steak obtained from the animal which he had shot himself. we remained at this camp two or three days, during which we hunted most of the time, the grand duke himself killing eight buffaloes. one day alexis desired to see how the indians hunted buffaloes and killed them with bow and arrow; so spotted tail, selecting some of his best hunters, had them surround a herd, and bring the animals down, not only with arrows, but with lances. the grand duke was told to follow upon the heels of one celebrated indian hunter, whose name was "two lance," and watch him bring down the game; for this chief had the reputation of being able to send an arrow through and through the body of a buffalo. upon this occasion he did not belie his reputation, for he sent an arrow _through_ a buffalo, which fell dead at the shot, and the arrow was given to alexis as a souvenir of his hunt on the american plains. [illustration: two lance killing a buffalo.] when the grand duke was satisfied with the sport, orders were given for the return to the railroad. the conveyance provided for the grand duke and general sheridan was a heavy double-seated open carriage, or rather an irish dog-cart, and it was drawn by four spirited cavalry horses which were not much used to the harness. the driver was bill reed, an old overland stage driver and wagon master; on our way in, the grand duke frequently expressed his admiration of the skillful manner in which reed handled the reins. general sheridan informed the duke that i also had been a stage-driver in the rocky mountains, and thereupon his royal highness expressed a desire to see me drive. i was in advance at the time, and general sheridan sang out to me: "cody, get in here and show the duke how you can drive. mr. reed will exchange places with you and ride your horse." "all right, general," said i, and in a few moments i had the reins and we were rattling away over the prairie. when we were approaching medicine creek, general sheridan said: "shake 'em up a little, bill, and give us some old-time stage-driving." i gave the horses a crack or two of the whip, and they started off at a very rapid gait. they had a light load to pull, and kept increasing their speed at every jump, and i found it difficult to hold them. they fairly flew over the ground, and at last we reached a steep hill, or divide, which, led down into the valley of the medicine. there was no brake on the wagon, and the horses were not much on the hold-back. i saw that it would be impossible to stop them. all i could do was to keep them straight in the track and let them go it down the hill, for three miles; which distance, i believe, was made in about six minutes. every once in a while the hind wheels would strike a rut and take a bound, and not touch the ground again for fifteen or twenty feet. the duke and the general were kept rather busy in holding their positions on the seats, and when they saw that i was keeping the horses straight in the road, they seemed to enjoy the dash which we were making. i was unable to stop the team until they ran into the camp where we were to obtain a fresh relay, and there i succeeded in checking them. the grand duke said he didn't want any more of that kind of driving, as he preferred to go a little slower. on arriving at the railroad, the duke invited me into his car, and made me some valuable presents, at the same time giving me a cordial invitation to visit him, if ever i should come to his country. general sheridan took occasion to remind me of an invitation to visit new york which i had received from some of the gentlemen who accompanied the general on the hunt from fort mcpherson to hays city, in september of the previous year. said he: "you will never have a better opportunity to accept that invitation than now. i have had a talk with general ord concerning you, and he will give you a leave of absence whenever you are ready to start. write a letter to general stager, of chicago, that you are now prepared to accept the invitation, and he will send you a pass." thanking the general for his kindness, i then bade him and the grand duke good-bye, and soon their train was out of sight. chapter xxvi. sight-seeing. general ord, commanding the department of the platte at the time, and who had been out on the alexis hunt, had some business to attend to at fort mcpherson, and i accepted his invitation to ride over to the post with him in an ambulance. on the way thither he asked me how i would like to have an officer's commission in the regular army. he said that general sheridan and himself had had some conversation about the matter, and if i wanted a commission, one could easily be procured for me. i thanked general ord for his kindness, and said that although an officer's commission in the regular army was a tempting prize, yet i preferred to remain in the position i was then holding. he concluded by stating that if at any time i should wish a commission, all that i would have to do to secure it would be to inform him of my desire. having determined to visit new york, i acted upon general sheridan's suggestion and wrote to general stager, from whom in a few days i received my railroad passes. obtaining thirty days' leave of absence from the department, i struck out for the east. on arriving in chicago, in february, 1872, i was met at the dã©pã´t by colonel m.v. sheridan, who said that his brother, the general, had not yet returned, but had sent word that i was to be his and the colonel's guest, at their house, while i remained in chicago. i spent two or three days very pleasantly in the great city of the west, meeting several of the gentlemen who had been out on the sheridan hunt in september--general stager, colonel wilson, editor of the _journal_; mr. sam johnson, general rucker and others--by all of whom i was most cordially received and well entertained. i was introduced to quite a number of the best people of the city, and was invited to several "swell" dinners. i also accompanied general sheridan--who meantime had returned to the city--to a ball at riverside--an aristocratic suburb. [illustration: an embarrassing situation] on this occasion i became so embarrassed that it was more difficult for me to face the throng of beautiful ladies, than it would have been to confront a hundred hostile indians. this was my first trip to the east, and i had not yet become accustomed to being stared at. and besides this, the hundreds of questions which i was called upon to answer further embarrassed and perplexed me. according to the route laid out for me by general stager, i was to stop at niagara falls, buffalo and rochester on my way to new york, and he provided me with all the necessary railroad passes. just as i was about to leave chicago i met professor henry a. ward, of rochester, for whom during the previous year or two i had collected a large number of specimens of wild animals. he was on his way to rochester, and kindly volunteered to act as my guide until we reached that point. we spent one day in viewing the wonders of niagara, and i stopped one day at rochester and was shown the beauties of that handsome city by professor ward, and i had the honor of receiving an invitation to dine with the mayor. on arriving at new york i was met at the dã©pã´t by mr. j.g. hecksher, who had been appointed as "a committee of one" to escort me to the union club, where james gordon bennett, leonard w. jerome and others were to give me an informal reception, and where i was to make my headquarters during my visit in the great metropolis. i had an elegant dinner at the club rooms, with the gentlemen who had been out on the september hunt, and other members of the club. after dinner, in company with mr. hecksher--who acted as my guide--i started out on the trail of my friend, ned buntline, whom we found at the brevoort place hotel. he was delighted to see me, and insisted on my becoming his guest. he would listen to no excuses, and on introducing me to messrs. overton & blair, proprietors of the brevoort, they also gave me a pressing invitation to make my home at their house. i finally compromised the matter by agreeing to divide my time between the union club, the brevoort house, and ned buntline's quarters. the next few days i spent in viewing the sights of new york, everything being new and startling, convincing me that as yet i had seen but a small portion of the world. i received numerous dinner invitations, as well as invitations to visit different places of amusement and interest; but as they came in so thick and fast, i soon became badly demoralized and confused. i found i had accepted invitations to dine at half a dozen or more houses on the same day and at the same hour. james gordon bennett had prepared a dinner for me, at which quite a large number of his friends were to be present, but owing to my confusion, arising from the many other invitations i had received, i forgot all about it, and dined elsewhere. this was "a bad break," but i did not learn of my mistake until next day, when at the union club house several gentlemen, among them lawrence jerome, inquired "where in the world i had been," and why i had not put in an appearance at bennett's dinner. they said that bennett had taken great pains to give me a splendid reception, that the party had waited till nine o'clock for me, and that my non-arrival caused considerable disappointment. i apologized as well as i could, by saying that i had been out on a scout and had got lost, and had forgotten all about the dinner; and expressed my regret for the disappointment i had created by my forgetfulness. august belmont, the banker, being near said: "never mind, gentlemen, i'll give cody a dinner at my house." "thank you, sir," said i; "i see you are determined that i shall not run short of rations while i am in the city. i'll be there, sure." both mr. jerome and mr. hecksher told me that i must not disappoint mr. belmont, for his dinners were splendid affairs. i made a note of the date, and at the appointed time i was promptly at mr. belmont's mansion, where i spent a very enjoyable evening. mr. bennett, who was among the guests, having forgiven my carelessness, invited me to accompany him to the liederkranz masked ball, which was to take place in a few evenings, and would be a grand spectacle. together we attended the ball, and during the evening i was well entertained. the dancers kept on their masks until midnight, and the merry and motley throng presented a brilliant scene, moving gracefully beneath the bright gas-light to the inspiriting music. to me it was a novel and entertaining sight, and in many respects reminded me greatly of an indian war-dance. acting upon the suggestion of mr. bennett, i had dressed myself in my buckskin suit, and i naturally attracted considerable attention; especially when i took part in the dancing and exhibited some of my backwoods steps, which, although not as graceful as some, were a great deal more emphatic. but when i undertook to do artistic dancing, i found i was decidedly out of place in that crowd, and i accordingly withdrew from the floor. i occasionally passed an evening at niblo's garden, viewing the many beauties of "the black crook," which was then having its long run, under the management of jarrett & palmer, whose acquaintance i had made, and who extended to me the freedom of the theater. ned buntline and fred maeder had dramatized one of the stories which the former had written about me for the _new york weekly_. the drama was called "buffalo bill, the king of border men." while i was in new york it was produced at the bowery theater; j.b. studley, an excellent actor, appearing in the character of "buffalo bill," and mrs. w.g. jones, a fine actress, taking the part of my sister, a leading _rã´le_. i was curious to see how i would look when represented by some one else, and of course i was present on the opening night, a private box having been reserved for me. the theater was packed, every seat being occupied as well as the standing-room. the drama was played smoothly, and created a great deal of enthusiasm. the audience, upon learning that the real "buffalo bill" was present, gave several cheers between the acts, and i was called on to come out on the stage and make a speech. mr. freleigh, the manager, insisted that i should comply with the request, and that i should be introduced to mr. studley. i finally consented, and the next moment i found myself standing behind the footlights and in front of an audience for the first time in my life. i looked up, then down, then on each side, and everywhere i saw a sea of human faces, and thousands of eyes all staring at me. i confess that i felt very much embarrassed--never more so in my life--and i knew not what to say. i made a desperate effort, and a few words escaped me, but what they were i could not for the life of me tell, nor could any one else in the house. my utterances were inaudible even to the leader of the orchestra, mr. dean, who was sitting only a few feet in front of me. bowing to the audience, i beat a hasty retreat into one of the caã±ons of the stage. i never felt more relieved in my life than when i got out of the view of that immense crowd. that evening mr. freleigh offered to give me five hundred dollars a week to play the part of "buffalo bill" myself. i thought that he was certainly joking, especially as he had witnessed my awkward performance; but when he assured me that he was in earnest, i told him that it would be useless for me to attempt anything of the kind, for i never could talk to a crowd of people like that, even if it was to save my neck, and that he might as well try to make an actor out of a government mule. i thanked him for the generous offer, which i had to decline owing to a lack of confidence in myself; or as some people might express it, i didn't have the requisite cheek to undertake a thing of that sort. the play of "buffalo bill" had a very successful run of six or eight weeks, and was afterwards produced in all the principal cities of the country, everywhere being received with genuine enthusiasm. i had been in new york about twenty days when general sheridan arrived in the city. i met him soon after he got into town. in answer to a question how i was enjoying myself, i replied that i had struck the best camp i had ever seen, and if he didn't have any objections i would like to have my leave of absence extended about ten days. this he willingly did, and then informed me that my services would soon be required at fort mcpherson, as there was to be an expedition sent out from that point. at westchester, pennsylvania, i had some relatives living whom i had never seen, and now being so near, i determined to make them a visit. upon mentioning the matter to buntline, he suggested that we should together take a trip to philadelphia, and thence run out to westchester. accordingly the next day found us in the "city of brotherly love," and in a few hours we arrived at the home of my uncle, general henry r. guss, the proprietor of the green tree hotel, who gave us a cordial reception. inviting us into the parlor, my uncle brought in the members of his family, among them an elderly lady, who was my grandmother, as he informed me. he told me that my aunt eliza, his first wife, was dead, and that he had married a second time; lizzie guss, my cousin, i thought was the most beautiful girl i had ever seen. they were all very anxious to have us remain several days, but as i had some business to attend to in new york, i was obliged to return that day. assuring them, however, that i would visit them again soon, i bade them adieu, and with buntline took the train for new york. the time soon arrived for my departure for the west; so packing up my traps i started for home, and on the way thither i spent a day with my westchester relatives, who did everything in their power to entertain me during my brief stay with them. chapter xxvii. honors. upon reaching fort mcpherson, i found that the third cavalry, commanded by general reynolds, had arrived from arizona, in which territory they had been on duty for some time, and where they had acquired quite a reputation on account of their indian fighting qualities. shortly after my return, a small party of indians made a dash on mcpherson station, about five miles from the fort, killing two or three men and running off quite a large number of horses. captain meinhold and lieutenant lawson with their company were ordered out to pursue and punish the indians if possible. i was the guide of the expedition and had as an assistant t.b. omohundro, better known as "texas jack" and who was a scout at the post. finding the trail, i followed it for two days, although it was difficult trailing because the red-skins had taken every possible precaution to conceal their tracks. on the second day captain meinhold went into camp on the south fork of the loupe, at a point where the trail was badly scattered. six men were detailed to accompany me on a scout in search of the camp of the fugitives. we had gone but a short distance when we discovered indians camped, not more than a mile away, with horses grazing near by. they were only a small party, and i determined to charge upon them with my six men, rather than return to the command, because i feared they would see us as we went back and then they would get away from us entirely. i asked the men if they were willing to attempt it, and they replied that they would follow me wherever i would lead them. that was the kind of spirit that pleased me, and we immediately moved forward on the enemy, getting as close to them as possible without being seen. i finally gave the signal to charge, and we dashed into the little camp with a yell. five indians sprang out of a willow tepee, and greeted us with a volley, and we returned the fire. i was riding buckskin joe, who with a few jumps brought me up to the tepee, followed by my men. we nearly ran over the indians who were endeavoring to reach their horses on the opposite side of the creek. just as one was jumping the narrow stream a bullet from my old "lucretia" overtook him. he never reached the other bank, but dropped dead in the water. those of the indians who were guarding the horses, seeing what was going on at the camp, came rushing to the rescue of their friends. i now counted thirteen braves, but as we had already disposed of two, we had only eleven to take care of. the odds were nearly two to one against us. while the indian reinforcements were approaching the camp i jumped the creek with buckskin joe to meet them, expecting our party would follow me; but as they could not induce their horses to make the leap, i was the only one who got over. i ordered the sergeant to dismount his men, and leaving one to hold the horses, to come over with the rest and help me drive the indians off. before they could do this, two mounted warriors closed in on me and were shooting at short range. i returned their fire and had the satisfaction of seeing one of them fall from his horse. at this moment i felt blood trickling down my forehead, and hastily running my hand through my hair i discovered that i had received a scalp wound. the indian, who had shot me, was not more than ten yards away, and when he saw his partner tumble from his saddle, he turned to run. by this time the soldiers had crossed the creek to assist me, and were blazing away at the other indians. urging buckskin joe forward, i was soon alongside of the chap who had wounded me, when raising myself in the stirrups i shot him through the head. the reports of our guns had been heard by captain meinhold, who at once started with his company up the creek to our aid, and when the remaining indians, whom we were still fighting, saw these reinforcements coming they whirled their horses and fled; as their steeds were quite fresh they made their escape. however, we killed six out of the thirteen indians, and captured most of their stolen stock. our loss was one man killed, and one man--myself--slightly wounded. one of our horses was killed, and buckskin joe was wounded, but i didn't discover the fact until some time afterwards as he had been shot in the breast and showed no signs of having received a scratch of any kind. securing the scalps of the dead indians and other trophies we returned to the fort. i made several other scouts during the summer with different officers of the third cavalry, one being with major alick moore, a good officer, with whom i was out for thirty days. another long one was with major curtis, with whom i followed some indians from the south platte river to fort randall on the missouri river in dakota, on which trip the command ran out of rations and for fifteen days subsisted entirely upon the game we killed. in the fall of 1872 the earl of dunraven and dr. kingsley with several friends came to fort mcpherson with a letter from general sheridan, asking me to accompany them on an elk hunt. i did so, and i afterwards spent several weeks in hunting with the earl of dunraven, who was a thorough sportsman and an excellent hunter. it was while i was out with the earl, that a chicago party--friends of general sheridan--arrived at fort mcpherson for the purpose of going out on a hunt. they, too, had a letter from, the general requesting me to go with them. the earl had not yet finished his hunt, but as i had been out with him for several weeks, and he had by this time learned where to find plenty of elks and other game, i concluded to leave him and accompany the chicago party. i informed him of my intention and gave him my reasons for going, at the same time telling him that i would send him one of my scouts, texas jack, who was a good hunter, and would be glad to accompany him. the earl seemed to be somewhat offended at this, and i don't think he has ever forgiven me for "going back on him." let that be as it may, he found texas jack a splendid hunter and guide, and jack has been his guide on several hunts since. [illustration: texas jack] among the gentlemen who composed the chicago party were e.p. green,--son-in-law of remington, the rifle manufacturer,--alexander sample, mr. milligan, of the firm of heath & milligan, of chicago, and several others, whose names i do not now remember. mr. milligan was a man full of life, and was continually "boiling over with fun." he was a regular velocipede, so to speak, and was here, there, and everywhere. he was exceedingly desirous of having an indian fight on the trip, not that he was naturally a blood-thirsty man but just for variety he wanted a little "indian pie." he was in every respect the life of the party, during the entire time that we were out. one day while he was hunting with sample and myself we came in sight of a band of thirty mounted indians. "milligan, here's what you've been wanting for some time," said i, "for yonder is a war party of indians and no mistake; and they'll come for us, you bet." "i don't believe this is one of my fighting days," replied milligan, "and it occurs to me that i have urgent business at the camp." our camp was five or six miles distant on the dismal river, and our escort consisted of a company of cavalry commanded by captain russell. the soldiers were in camp, and milligan thought that captain russell ought to be at once notified of the appearance of these indians. knowing that we could reach the camp in safety, for we were well mounted, i continued to have considerable amusement at milligan's expense, who finally said: "cody, what's making my hat raise up so. i can hardly keep it on my head." sample, who was as cool as a cucumber, said to milligan: "there must be something wrong with your hair. it must be trying to get on end." "it's all very fine for you fellows to stand here and talk," replied milligan, "but i am not doing justice to my family by remaining. sample, i think we are a couple of old fools to have come out here, and i never would have done so if it had not been for you." by this time the indians had discovered us and were holding a consultation, and milligan turned his horse in the direction of the camp. i never believed that he was half as scared as he seemed to be, but that he was merely pretending so that we could enjoy our joke. however, we did not wait any longer but rode into camp and notified captain russell, who immediately started with his company to pursue the band. while we were riding along with the company milligan said to sample: "now, alick, let them come on. we may yet go back to chicago covered with glory." we struck the trail going north, but as we had not come out on a scout for indians, we concluded not to follow them; although milligan was now very anxious to proceed and clean them out. the hunt came to an end in a day or two, and we escorted the visiting hunters to north platte, where they took the train for chicago. before their departure they extended to me a very cordial invitation to come to their city on a visit, promising that i should be well taken care of. soon after this i had the pleasure of guiding a party of gentlemen from omaha on a buffalo hunt. among the number were judge dundy, colonel watson b. smith, and u.s. district attorney neville. we left fort mcpherson in good trim. i was greatly amused at the "style" of mr. neville, who wore a stove-pipe hat and a swallow-tail coat, which made up a very comical rig for a buffalo hunter. as we galloped over the prairie, he jammed his hat down over his ears to keep it from being shaken off his head, and in order to stick to his horse, he clung to the pommel of his saddle. he was not much of a rider, and he went bouncing up and down, with his swallow-tails flopping in the air. the sight i shall never forget, for it was enough to make a "horse laugh," and i actually believe old buckskin joe did laugh. however, we had a splendid hunt, and on the second day i lariated, or roped, a big buffalo bull and tied him to a tree,--a feat which i had often performed, and which the gentlemen requested me to do on this occasion for their benefit, as they had heard of my skill with the lariat. i captured several other buffaloes in the same way. the gentlemen returned to omaha well pleased with their hunt. in the fall of the year, 1872, a convention was held at grand island, when some of my friends made me their candidate to represent the twenty-sixth district in the legislature of nebraska; but as i had always been a democrat and the state was largely republican, i had no idea of being elected. in fact i cared very little about it, and therefore made no effort whatever to secure an election. however, i was elected and that is the way in which i acquired my title of honorable. chapter xxviii. an actor. during the summer and fall of 1872, i received numerous letters from ned buntline, urging me to come east and go upon the stage to represent my own character. "there's money in it," he wrote, "and you will prove a big card, as your character is a novelty on the stage." at times i almost determined to make the venture; but the recollection of that night when i stood on the stage of the bowery theatre and was unable to utter a word above a whisper, would cause me to stop and think and become irresolute. i feared that i would be a total failure, and wrote buntline to that effect. but he insisted that i would soon get over all that embarrassment, and become accustomed to the stage, so that i would think no more of appearing before five thousand people than i would before half a dozen. he proposed to organize a good company, and wished me to meet him in chicago, where the opening performance would be given. i remained undecided as to what i ought to do. the officers at the fort as well as my family and friends to whom i had mentioned the matter, laughed at the idea of my ever becoming an actor. that i, an old scout who had never seen more than twenty or thirty theatrical performances in my life, should think of going upon the stage, was ridiculous in the extreme--so they all said. a few days after my election to the legislature a happy event occurred in my family circle, in the birth of a daughter whom we named ora; about the same time i received another letter from buntline, in which he requested me to appear on the stage for a few months as an experiment; and he said that if i made a failure or did not like the business, i could easily return to my old life. my two sisters who had been living with us had married,--nellie, to a. c. jester, a cattle man, and may, to ed. bradford, a railroad engineer--and consequently left us; and my wife had been wishing for a long time to visit her parents in st. louis. taking these and other things into consideration i finally resolved to resign my seat in the legislature and try my luck behind the footlights. i informed general reynolds of my determination, telling him at the same time that at the end of the month, november, i would resign my position under him. the general regretted to hear this, and advised me not to take the step, for i was leaving a comfortable little home, where i was sure of making a good living for my family; while, on the other hand, i was embarking upon a sea of uncertainty. having once made up my mind, however, nothing could change it. while i was selling my horses and other effects, preparatory to leaving the fort, one of my brother scouts, texas jack, said that he would like to accompany me. now as jack had also appeared as the hero in one of ned buntline's stories, i thought that he would make as good a "star" as myself, and it was accordingly arranged that jack should go with me. on our way east we stopped in omaha a day or two to visit general augur and other officers, and also the gentlemen who were out on the judge dundy hunt. judge dundy and his friends gave a dinner party in my honor at the leading restaurant and entertained me very handsomely during my stay in the city. at omaha i parted with my family, who went to st. louis, while jack and myself proceeded to chicago. ned buntline and mr. milligan, having been apprised of our coming by a telegram, met us at the dã©pã´t. mr. milligan accompanied us to the sherman house, where he had made arrangements for us to be his guests while we remained in the city. i didn't see much of buntline that evening, as he hurried off to deliver a temperance lecture in one of the public halls. the next day we met him by appointment, and the first thing he said, was: "boys, are you ready for business?" "i can't answer that," replied i, "for we don't know what we are going to do." "it's all arranged," said he, "and you'll have no trouble whatever. come with me. we'll go and see nixon, manager of the amphitheatre. that's the place where we are to play. we'll open there next monday night." jack and myself accordingly accompanied him to manager nixon's office without saying a word, as we didn't know what to say. "here we are, mr. nixon," said buntline; "here are the stars for you. here are the boys; and they are a fine pair to draw too. now, nixon, i am prepared for business." nixon and buntline had evidently had a talk about the terms of our engagement. buntline, it seems, was to furnish the company, the drama, and the pictorial printing, and was to receive sixty per cent. of the gross receipts for his share; while nixon was to furnish the theater, the _attachã©s_, the orchestra, and the local printing; and receive forty per cent. of the gross receipts. "i am ready for you, buntline. have you got your company yet?" asked nixon. "no, sir; but there are plenty of idle theatrical people in town, and i can raise a company in two hours," was his reply. "you haven't much time to spare, if you open on monday night," said nixon. "if you will allow me to look at your drama, to see what kind of people you want, i'll assist you in organizing your company." "i have not yet written the drama," said buntline. "what the deuce do you mean? this is wednesday, and you propose to open on next monday night. the idea is ridiculous. here you are at this late hour without a company and without a drama. this will never do, buntline. i shall have to break my contract with you, for you can't possibly write a drama, cast it, and rehearse it properly for monday night. furthermore, you have no pictorial printing as yet. these two gentlemen, whom you have with you, have never been on the stage, and they certainly must have time to study their parts. it is preposterous to think of opening on monday night, and i'll cancel the engagement." this little speech was delivered in rather an excited manner by mr. nixon. buntline said that he would write the drama that day and also select his company and have them at the theater for rehearsal next morning. nixon laughed at him, and said that there was no use of trying to undertake anything of the kind in so short a time--it was utterly impossible to do it. buntline, whose ire was rising, said to nixon: "what rent will you ask for your theater for next week?" "six hundred dollars," was the reply. "well, sir, i'll take your theater for next week at that price, and here is half of the amount in advance," said buntline, as he threw down three hundred dollars on the stand. nixon took the money, gave a receipt for it, and had nothing more to say. "now, come with me boys," said buntline; and away we went to the hotel. buntline immediately obtained a supply of pens, ink and paper, and then engaged all the hotel clerks as penmen. in less than an hour after he had rented the theater, he was dashing off page after page of his proposed drama--the work being done in his room at the hotel. he then set his clerks at copying for him, and at the end of four hours, he jumped up from the table, and enthusiastically shouted: "hurrah for 'the scouts of the plains!' that's the name of the play. the work is done. hurrah!" the parts were then all copied off separately by the clerks, and handing us our respective portions buntline said: "now, boys, go to work, and do your level best to have this dead-letter perfect for the rehearsal, which takes place to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, prompt. i want to show nixon that we'll be ready on time." [illustration: studying the parts.] i looked at my part and then at jack; and jack looked at his part and then at me. then we looked at each other, and then at buntline. we did not know what to make of the man. "how long will it take you to commit your part to memory, bill?" asked jack. "about six months, as near as i can calculate. how long will it take you?" answered i. "it will take me about that length of time to learn the first line," said jack. nevertheless we went to our room and commenced studying. i thought it was the hardest work i had ever done. "this is dry business," finally remarked jack. "that's just what it is," i answered; "jerk the bell, jack." the bell-boy soon appeared. we ordered refreshments; after partaking thereof we resumed our task. we studied hard for an hour or two, but finally gave it up as a bad job, although we had succeeded in committing a small portion to memory. buntline now came into the room and said: "boys, how are you getting along?" "i guess we'll have to go back on this studying business as it isn't our _forte_" said i. "don't weaken now, bill; you'll come out on the top of the heap yet. let me hear you recite your part," said buntline. i began "spouting" what i had learned, but was interrupted by buntline: "tut! tut! you're not saying it right. you must stop at the cue." "cue! what the mischief do you mean by the cue? i never saw any cue except in a billiard room," said i. buntline thereupon explained it to me, as well as to jack, who was ignorant as myself concerning the "cue" business. "jack, i think we had better back out and go to hunting again," said i. "see here, boys; it won't do to go back on me at this stage of the game. stick to it, and it may be the turning point in your lives and lead you on to fortune and to fame." "a fortune is what we are after, and we'll at least give the wheel a turn or two and see what luck we have," said i. this satisfied buntline, but we didn't study any more after he left us. the next morning we appeared at rehearsal and were introduced to the company. the first rehearsal was hardly a success; and the succeeding ones were not much better. the stage manager did his best to teach jack and myself what to do, but when monday night came we didn't know much more about it than when we began. the clock struck seven, and then we put on our buckskin suits, which were the costumes we were to appear in. the theater was being rapidly filled, and it was evident that we were going to make our _dã©but_ before a packed house. as the minutes passed by, jack and i became more and more nervous. we occasionally looked through the holes in the curtain, and saw that the people were continuing to crowd into the theatre; our nervousness increased to an uncomfortable degree. when, at length the curtain arose, our courage had returned, so that we thought we could face the immense crowd; yet when the time came for us to go on, we were rather slow in making our appearance. as we stepped forth we were received with a storm of applause, which we acknowledged with a bow. [illustration: behind the footlights.] buntline, who was taking the part of "cale durg," appeared, and gave me the "cue" to speak "my little piece," but for the life of me i could not remember a single word. buntline saw i was "stuck," and a happy thought occurred to him. he said--as if it were in the play: "where have you been, bill? what has kept you so long?" just then my eye happened to fall on mr. milligan, who was surrounded by his friends, the newspaper reporters, and several military officers, all of whom had heard of his hunt and "indian fight"--he being a very popular man, and widely known in chicago. so i said: "i have been out on a hunt with milligan." this proved to be a big hit. the audience cheered and applauded; which gave me greater confidence in my ability to get through the performance all right. buntline, who is a very versatile man, saw that it would be a good plan to follow this up, and he said: "well, bill, tell us all about the hunt." i thereupon proceeded to relate in detail the particulars of the affair. i succeeded in making it rather funny, and i was frequently interrupted by rounds of applause. whenever i began to "weaken," buntline would give me a fresh start, by asking some question. in this way i took up fifteen minutes, without once speaking a word of my part; nor did i speak a word of it during the whole evening. the prompter, who was standing between the wings, attempted to prompt me, but it did no good; for while i was on the stage i "chipped in" anything i thought of. "the scouts of the plains" was an indian drama, of course; and there were between forty and fifty "supers" dressed as indians. in the fight with them, jack and i were at home. we blazed away at each other with blank cartridges; and when the scene ended in a hand-to-hand encounter--a general knock-down and drag-out--the way jack and i killed indians was "a caution." we would kill them all off in one act, but they would come up again ready for business in the next. finally the curtain dropped; the play was ended; and i congratulated jack and myself on having made such a brilliant and-successful _dã©but_. there was no backing out after that. the next morning there appeared in the chicago papers some very funny criticisms on our first performance. the papers gave us a better send-off than i expected, for they did not criticise us as actors. the _chicago times_ said that if buntline had actually spent four hours in writing that play, it was difficult for any one to see what he had been doing all the time. buntline, as "cale durg," was killed in the second act, after a long temperance speech; and the _inter-ocean_ said that it was to be regretted that he had not been killed in the first act. the company, however, was very good, and mdlle. morlacchi, as "pale dove," particularly fine; while miss cafarno "spouted" a poem of some seven hundred and three verses, more or less, of which the reader will be glad to know that i only recall the words "i was born in march." our engagement proved a decided success financially, if not artistically. nixon was greatly surprised at the result, and at the end of the week he induced buntline to take him in as a partner in the company. the next week we played at debar's opera house, in st. louis, doing an immense business. the following week we were at cincinnati, where the theater was so crowded every night that hundreds were unable to obtain admission. we met with equal success all over the country. theatrical managers, upon hearing of this new and novel combination; which was drawing such tremendous houses, were all anxious to secure us; and we received offers of engagements at all the leading theaters. we played one week at the boston theater, and the gross receipts amounted to $16,200. we also appeared at niblo's garden, new york, the theater being crowded to its utmost capacity every night of the engagement. at the arch street theater, philadelphia, it was the same way. there was not a single city where we did not have crowded houses. we closed our tour on the 16th of june, 1873, at port jervis, new york, and when i counted up my share of the profits i found that i was only about $6,000 ahead. i was somewhat disappointed, for, judging from our large business, i certainly had expected a greater sum. texas jack and myself longed for a hunt on the western prairies once more; and on meeting in new york a party of gentlemen who were desirous of going with us, we all started westward, and after a pleasant trip arrived at fort mcpherson. chapter xxix. starring. texas jack and i spent several weeks in hunting in the western part of nebraska, and at the end of our vacation we felt greatly re-invigorated and ready for another theatrical campaign. we accordingly proceeded to new york and organized a company for the season of 1873-74. thinking that wild bill would be quite an acquisition to the troupe, we wrote to him at springfield, missouri, offering him a large salary if he would play with us that winter. he was doing nothing at the time, and we thought that he would like to take a trip through the states, as he had never been east. wild bill accepted our offer, and came on to new york; though he told us from the start that we could never make an actor out of him. although he had a fine stage appearance and was a handsome fellow, and possessed a good strong voice, yet when he went upon the stage before an audience, it was almost impossible for him to utter a word. he insisted that we were making a set of fools of ourselves, and that we were the laughing-stock of the people. i replied that i did not care for that, as long as they came and bought tickets to see us. wild bill was continually playing tricks upon the members of the company, and it was his especial delight to torment the "supers." quite frequently in our sham indian battles he would run up to the "indians" (the supers), and putting his pistol close to their legs, would fire at them and burn them with the powder, instead of shooting over their heads. this would make them dance and jump, so that it was difficult to make them fall and die--although they were paid twenty-five cents each for performing the "dying business." the poor "supers" often complained to me about this, and threatened not to go on the stage and be killed again if that man wild bill did not stop shooting and burning their legs. i would order wild bill to stop his mischief; he would laugh and then promise not to do it any more. but it would not be long before he was at his old tricks again. my company, known as the "buffalo bill combination," did a fine business, all through the east. wild bill continued his pranks, which caused us considerable annoyance, but at the same time greatly amused us. one day at titusville, pennsylvania, while burke, the business agent, was registering our names and making arrangements for our accommodation, several of us started for the billiard room; but were met by the landlord, who stopped me and said that there was a party of roughs from the lower oil region who were spreeing, and had boasted that they were staying in town to meet the buffalo bill gang and clean them out. the landlord begged of me not to allow the members of the troupe to enter the billiard room, as he did not wish any fight in his house. to please the landlord, and at his suggestion, i called the boys up into the parlor and explained to them the situation. wild bill wanted to go at once and fight the whole mob, but i persuaded him to keep away from them during the day. in order to entirely avoid the roughs, the members of the company entered the theater through a private door from the hotel, as the two buildings joined each other. while i was standing at the door of the theater taking the tickets, the landlord of the hotel came rushing up and said that wild bill was having a fight with the roughs in the bar-room. it seemed that bill had not been able to resist the temptation of going to see what kind of a mob it was that wanted to test the pluck of the buffalo bill party; and just as he stepped into the room, one of the bruisers put his hand on his shoulder and said: "hello, buffalo bill! we have been looking for you all day." "my name is not buffalo bill; you are mistaken in the man," was the reply. "you are a liar!" said the bruiser. bill instantly knocked him down, and then seizing a chair he laid out four or five of the crowd on the floor, and drove the rest out of the room. all this was done in a minute or two, and by the time i got down stairs, bill was coming out of the bar-room, whistling a lively tune. "well!" said he, "i have been interviewing that party who wanted to clean us out." "i thought you promised to come into the opera house by the private entrance?" "i did try to follow that trail, but i got lost among the caã±ons, and then i ran in among the hostiles," said he; "but it is all right now. they won't bother us any more. i guess those fellows have found us." and sure enough they had. we heard no more of them after that. another incident occurred, one night, at portland, maine. bill found it impossible to go to sleep at the hotel on account of the continued talking of some parties who were engaged in a game of cards in an adjoining room. he called to them several times to make less noise, but they paid little or no attention to him. he finally got up and went to the room with the intention of cleaning out the whole crowd. he knocked and was admitted; greatly to his surprise, he found the party to be some merchants of the city, whom he had met the previous day. they were playing poker, and invited him to take a hand. bill sat down at the table, and said that, inasmuch as they would not let him sleep, he wouldn't mind playing for a while, provided they would post him a little in the game, for he didn't know much about it. at first he didn't play very well, intentionally making many blunders and asking numerous questions; but when morning came, he was about seven hundred dollars ahead. bill put the money in his pocket, and just as he was leaving the room he advised them never to wake a man up and invite him to play poker. [illustration: learning the game.] wild bill remained with me until we reached rochester. i met my family there, and having bought some property in that city, with the intention of making the place my home, i asked bill not to cut up any of his capers, for i wanted the performance to go off smoothly, as i expected a large audience that evening. he, of course, promised to behave himself. when the curtain rose the house was crowded. the play proceeded finely until the indian fight in the second act, when bill amused himself by his old trick of singeing the legs of the "supers." after the curtain dropped, the "supers" complained to me about it. bill's conduct made me angry, and i told him that he must either stop shooting the "supers," or leave the company. he made no reply, but went to the dressing-room and changed his buckskin suit for his citizen's dress, and during one of my scenes i looked down in front and saw him elbowing his way through the audience and out of the theater. when i had finished the scene, and had retired from the stage, the stage-carpenter came up and said: "that long-haired gentleman, who passed out a few minutes ago, requested me to tell you that you could go to thunder with your old show." that was the last time that wild bill and i ever performed together on the stage. after the evening's entertainment i met him at the osborn house. by this time he had recovered from his mad fit and was in as good humor as ever. he had made up his mind to leave for the west the next day. i endeavored to persuade him to remain with me till spring, and then we would go together; but it was of no use. i then paid him the money due him, and jack and myself made him a present of $1,000 besides. bill went to new york the next day, intending to start west from there. several days afterwards i learned that he had lost all his money in new york by playing faro; also that a theatrical manager had engaged him to play. a company was organized and started out, but as a "star" wild bill was not a success; the further he went the poorer he got. this didn't suit bill by any means, and he accordingly retired from the stage. the company, however, kept on the road, using bill's name, and employing an actor to represent him not only on the stage but on the street and elsewhere. bill heard of this deception and sent word to the manager to stop it, but no attention was paid to his message. finally, bill resolved to have satisfaction and he proceeded to a town where the company was to play; he entered the theater and took a seat near the stage, and watched the performance until the bogus wild bill appeared. he then sprang upon the stage, knocked the actor clear through one of the scenes, and grabbing the manager by the shoulders he threw him over the foot-lights into the orchestra. [illustration: getting satisfaction.] the other actors screamed and yelled "police!" the audience could not at first understand what it all meant, some of them supposing the affair to be a part of the play. wild bill retired from the stage in good order, resumed his seat, and told them to go on with their show. a policeman now appearing, bill was pointed out as the disturber of the peace; the officer tapping him on the shoulder, said: "i'll have to arrest you, sir." "how many of you are there?" asked bill. "only myself," said the policeman. "you had better get some help," said bill. the officer then called up another policeman, and bill again asked: "how many of you are there now?" "two," was the reply. "then i advise you to go out and get some more reinforcements," said bill, very coolly. the policemen thereupon spoke to the sheriff, who was dressed in citizen's clothes. the sheriff came up and said he would have to take him into custody. "all right, sir," replied bill, "i have no objections to walking out with you, but i won't go with any two policemen." at the court next morning bill stated his reasons for having acted as he had done, and the judge fined him only three dollars and costs. this was the last time that wild bill appeared on the stage. he shortly afterwards returned to the west, and on arriving at cheyenne, he visited boulder's gambling room and sat down at a faro table. no one in the room recognized him, as he had not been in cheyenne for several years. after losing two or three bets he threw down a fifty dollar bill and lost that also. boulder quietly raked in the money. bill placed a second fifty dollar note on another card, when boulder informed him that the limit was twenty-five dollars. "you have just taken in a fifty dollar bill which i lost," said bill. "well you needn't make any more such bets, as i will not go above my limit," replied boulder. "i'll just play that fifty dollar bill as it lays. if it loses, it's yours; if it wins, you'll pay me fifty dollars, or i'll know the reason why." "i am running this game, and i want no talk from you, sir," said boulder. one word brought on another, until boulder threatened to have bill put out of the house. bill was carrying the butt end of a billiard cue for a cane, and bending over the table, he said: "you'd rob a blind man." then he suddenly tapped boulder on the head with the cane, with such force as to knock him over. with another sweep of the cane he tumbled the "look-out" from his chair, and then reaching over into the money drawer he grabbed a handful of greenbacks and stuck them in his pocket. at this stage of the game four or five men--who were employed as "bouncers" for the establishment to throw out the noisy persons--rushed up to capture bill, but he knocked them right and left with his cane, and seeing the whole crowd was now closing in on him, he jumped into a corner, and with each hand drew a revolver and faced the enemy. at this moment the bar-keeper recognized him, and sang out in a loud voice: "look out boys--that's wild bill you've run against." that settled the matter; for when they heard the name of wild bill they turned and beat a hasty retreat out of the doors and windows, and in less time than it takes to tell it, wild bill was the only man in the room. he coolly walked over to dyer's hotel, and retired for the night. boulder claimed that he had taken $500, but he really got only $200. boulder, upon learning that it was wild bill who had cleaned him out, said nothing more about the money. the next day the two men met over a bottle of wine, and settled their differences in an amicable manner. poor bill was afterwards killed at deadwood, in the black hills, in a cowardly manner, by a desperado who sneaked up behind him while he was playing a game of cards in a saloon, and shot him through the back of the head, without the least provocation. the murderer, jack mccall, was tried and hung at yankton, dakotah, for the crime. thus ended the career of a life-long friend of mine who, in spite of his many faults, was a noble man, ever brave and generous hearted. jack and myself continued playing through the country after wild bill left us, and we finally closed our season in boston on the 13th of may, 1874. business called me from boston to new york, and after i had been there a few days, i met an english gentleman, thomas p. medley, of london, who had come to america for a hunt on the plains. he had often heard of me, and was anxious to engage me as his guide and companion, and he offered to pay the liberal salary of one thousand dollars a month while i was with him. he was a very wealthy man, as i learned upon inquiry, and was a relative of mr. lord, of the firm of lord & taylor, of new york. of course i accepted his offer. when we reached the hunting ground in nebraska, he informed me, somewhat to my surprise, that he did not want to go out as alexis did, with carriages, servants, and other luxuries, but that he wished to rough it just as i would do--to sleep on the ground in the open air, and kill and cook his own meat. we started out from north platte, and spent several weeks in hunting all over the county. dr. w. f. carver, who then resided at north platte, and who has recently acquired considerable notoriety as a rifle-shot, hunted with us for a few days. mr. medley proved to be a very agreeable gentleman and an excellent hunter. while in camp he busied himself in carrying wood and water, attending to the fire, and preparing and cooking the meals, never asking me to do a thing. he did not do this to save expenses, but because he wanted to do as the other hunters in the party were doing. after spending as much time as he wished, we returned to the railroad, and he took the train for the east. everything that was required on this hunt was paid for in the most liberal manner by mr. medley, who also gave the members of the party several handsome presents. about this time an expedition consisting of seven companies of cavalry and two companies of infantry--to be commanded by colonel mills of the third cavalry, was being organized to scout the powder river and big horn country, and i was employed as guide for the command. proceeding to rawlins, wyoming, we "outfitted," and other guides were engaged--among them tom sun and bony ernest, two noted rocky mountain scouts. we there left the railroad, and passing through the seminole range of the rocky mountains we established our supply camp at the foot of independence rock on the sweetwater. i was now on my old familiar stamping ground, and it seemed like home to me. fifteen years before, i had ridden the pony express and driven the overland stages through this region, and the command was going into the same section of country where wild bill's expedition of stage-drivers and express-riders had recaptured from the indians a large number of stolen stage-horses. leaving the infantry to guard the supply camp, colonel mills struck out for the north with the seven companies of cavalry. one day while we were resting on a prairie near the head of powder river, a horseman was seen in the distance approaching us. at first it was thought he was an indian, but as he came near we saw that he was a white man, and finally when he rode up to us, i recognized him as "california joe," a noted scout and frontiersman who had spent many years in california, on the plains and in the mountains. he was armed with a heavy old sharpe's rifle, a revolver and a knife. i introduced him to colonel mills and the other officers and asked him where he was going. he replied that he was out for a morning ride only; but the fact was that he had been out prospecting alone for weeks along the foot of the big horn mountains. having no permanent occupation just at that time, joe accompanied us for two or three days, when colonel mills suggested that i had better employ him as a scout, so that he could make a little money for himself. joe didn't seem to care whether i hired him or not; but i put him on the pay-roll, and while he was with us he drew his five dollars a day. it was worth the money to have him along for company's sake, for he was a droll character in his way, and afforded us considerable amusement. we finally surprised little wolf's band of arapahoes and drove them into the agencies. we then scouted the powder river, crazy woman's fork, and clear fork, and then pushed westward through the mountains to the wind river. after having been out for a month or two we were ordered to return. i immediately went east and organized another dramatic company for the season of 1874-75, texas jack being absent in the yellowstone country hunting with the earl of dunraven. i played my company in all the principal cities of the country, doing a good business wherever i went. the summer of 1875 i spent at rochester with my family. for the season of 1875-6, texas jack and i reorganized our old combination, and made a very successful tour. while we were playing at springfield, massachusetts, april 20th and 21st 1876, a telegram was handed me just as i was going on the stage. i opened it and found it to be from colonel g.w. torrence, of rochester, an intimate friend of the family, who stated that my little boy kit was dangerously ill with the scarlet fever. this was indeed sad news, for little kit had always been my greatest pride. i sent for john burke, our business manager, and showing him the telegram, told him that i would play the first act, and making a proper excuse to the audience, i would then take the nine o'clock train that same evening for rochester, leaving him to play out my part. this i did, and at ten o'clock the next morning i arrived in rochester, and was met at the dã©pã´t by my intimate friend moses kerngood who at once drove me to my home. i found my little boy unable to speak but he seemed to recognize me and putting his little arms around my neck he tried to kiss me. we did everything in our power to save him, but it was of no avail. the lord claimed his own, and that evening at six o'clock my beloved little kit died in my arms. we laid him away to rest in the beautiful cemetery of mount hope amid sorrow and tears. chapter xxx. i return to the plains. we closed our theatrical season earlier than usual in the spring of 1876, because i was anxious to take part in the sioux war which was then breaking out. colonel hills had written me several letters saying that general crook was anxious to have me accompany his command, and i promised to do so, intending to overtake him in the powder river country. but when i arrived at chicago, on my way west, i learned that my old regiment, the gallant fifth cavalry, was on its way back from arizona to join general crook, and that my old commander, general carr, was in command. he had written to military headquarters at chicago to learn my whereabouts, as he wished to secure me as his guide and chief of scouts. i then gave up the idea of overtaking general crook, and hastening on to cheyenne, where the fifth cavalry had already arrived, i was met at the dã©pã´t by lieutenant king, adjutant of the regiment, he having been sent down from fort d. a. russell for that purpose by general carr, who had learned by a telegram from military headquarters at chicago that i was on the way. i accompanied the lieutenant on horseback to the camp, and as we rode up, one of the boys shouted, "here's buffalo bill!" soon after there came three hearty cheers from the regiment. officers and men all were glad to see me, and i was equally delighted to meet them once more. the general at once appointed me his guide and chief of scouts. the next morning the command pulled out for fort laramie, and on reaching that post we found general sheridan there, accompanied by general frye and general forsyth, _en route_ to red cloud agency. as the command was to remain here a few days, i accompanied general sheridan to red cloud and back, taking a company of cavalry as escort. the indians having recently committed a great many depredations on the black hills road, the fifth cavalry was sent out to scout the country between the indian agencies and the hills. the command operated on the south fork of the cheyenne and at the foot of the black hills for about two weeks, having several small engagements with roving bands of indians during the time. general wesley merritt--who had lately received his promotion to the colonelcy of the fifth cavalry--now came out and took control of the regiment. i was sorry that the command was taken from general carr, because under him it had made its fighting reputation. however, upon becoming acquainted with general merritt, i found him to be an excellent officer. the regiment, by continued scouting, soon drove the indians out of that section of the country, as we supposed, and we had started on our way back to fort laramie, when a scout arrived at the camp and reported the massacre of general custer and his band of heroes on the little big horn, on the 25th of june, 1876; and he also brought orders to general merritt to proceed at once to fort fetterman and join general crook in the big horn country. colonel stanton, who was with the fifth cavalry on this scout, had been sent to red cloud agency two days before, and that same evening a scout arrived bringing a message from him that eight hundred cheyenne warriors had that day left the red cloud agency to join sitting bull's hostile forces in the big horn region. notwithstanding the instructions to proceed immediately to join general crook by the way of fort fetterman, colonel merritt took the responsibility of endeavoring to intercept the cheyennes, and as the sequel shows he performed a very important service. he selected five hundred men and horses, and in two hours we were making a forced march back to hat, or war-bonnet creek--the intention being to reach the main indian trail running to the north across that creek before the cheyennes could get there. we arrived there the next night, and at daylight the following morning, july 17th, 1876, i went out on a scout, and found that the indians had not yet crossed the creek. on my way back to the command i discovered a large party of indians, which proved to be the cheyennes, coming up from the south, and i hurried to the camp with this important information. the cavalrymen quietly mounted their horses, and were ordered to remain out of sight, while general merritt, accompanied by two or three _aides_ and myself, went out on a little tour of observation to a neighboring hill, from the summit of which we saw that the indians were approaching almost directly towards us. presently fifteen or twenty of them dashed off to the west in the direction from which we had come the night before; and upon closer observation with our field glasses, we discovered two mounted soldiers, evidently carrying dispatches for us, pushing forward on our trail. the indians were evidently endeavoring to intercept these two men, and general merritt feared that they would accomplish their object. he did not think it advisable to send out any soldiers to the assistance of the couriers, for fear that would show to the indians that there were troops in the vicinity who were waiting for them. i finally suggested that the best plan was to wait until the couriers came closer to the command, and then, just as the indians were about to charge, to let me take the scouts and cut them off from the main body of the cheyennes, who were coming over the divide. "all right, cody," said the general, "if you can do that, go ahead." i rushed back to the command, jumped on my horse, picked out fifteen men, and returned with them to the point of observation. i told general merritt to give us the word to start out at the proper time, and presently he sang out: "go in now, cody, and be quick about it. they are going to charge on the couriers." the two messengers were not over four hundred yards from us, and the indians were only about two hundred yards behind them. we instantly dashed over the bluffs, and advanced on a gallop towards the indians. a running fight lasted several minutes, during which we drove the enemy some little distance and killed three of their number. the rest of them rode off towards the main body, which had come into plain sight, and halted, upon seeing the skirmish that was going on. we were about half a mile from general merritt, and the indians whom we were chasing suddenly turned upon us, and another lively skirmish took place. one of the indians, who was handsomely decorated with all the ornaments usually worn by a war chief when engaged in a fight, sang out to me, in his own tongue: "i know you, pa-he-haska; if you want to fight, come ahead and fight me." the chief was riding his horse back and forth in front of his men, as if to banter me, and i concluded to accept the challenge. i galloped towards him for fifty yards and he advanced towards me about the same distance, both of us riding at full speed, and then, when we were only about thirty yards apart, i raised my rifle and fired; his horse fell to the ground, having been killed by my bullet. almost at the same instant my own horse went down, he having stepped into a hole. the fall did not hurt me much, and i instantly sprang to my feet. the indian had also recovered himself, and we were now both on foot, and not more than twenty paces apart. we fired at each other simultaneously. my usual luck did not desert me on this occasion, for his bullet missed me, while mine struck him in the breast. he reeled and fell, but before he had fairly touched the ground i was upon him, knife in hand, and had driven the keen-edged weapon to its hilt in his heart. jerking his war-bonnet off, i scientifically scalped him in about five seconds. the whole affair from beginning to end occupied but little time, and the indians, seeing that i was some little distance from my company, now came charging down upon me from a hill, in hopes of cutting me off. general merritt had witnessed the duel, and realizing the danger i was in, ordered colonel mason with company k to hurry to my rescue. the order came none too soon, for had it been given one minute later i would have had not less than two hundred indians upon me. as the soldiers came up i swung the indian chieftain's top-knot and bonnet in the air, and shouted: "_the first scalp for custer_." general merritt, seeing that he could not now ambush the indians, ordered the whole regiment to charge upon them. they made a stubborn resistance for a little while, but it was of no use for any eight hundred, or even sixteen hundred indians to try and check a charge of the gallant old fifth cavalry, and they soon came to that conclusion and began a running retreat towards red cloud agency. for thirty-five miles we drove them; pushing them so hard that they were obliged to abandon their loose horses, their camp equipage and everything else. we drove them into the agency, and followed in ourselves, notwithstanding the possibility of our having to encounter the thousands of indians at that point. we were uncertain whether or not the other agency indians had determined to follow the example of the cheyennes and strike out upon the war-path; but that made no difference with the fifth cavalry, for they would have fought them all if necessary. it was dark when we rode into the agency, where we found thousands of indians collected together; but they manifested no disposition to fight. [illustration: a duel with chief yellow hand.] while at the agency i learned the name of the indian chief whom i had killed in the morning; it was yellow hand; a son of old cut-nose--a leading chief of the cheyennes. cut-nose, having learned that i had killed his son sent a white interpreter to me with a message to the effect that he would give me four mules if i would turn over to him yellow hand's war-bonnet, guns, pistols, ornaments, and other paraphernalia which i had captured. i sent back word to the old gentleman that it would give me pleasure to accommodate him, but i could not do it this time. the next morning we started to join general crook, who was camped near the foot of cloud peak in the big horn mountains; awaiting the arrival of the fifth cavalry, before proceeding against the sioux, who were somewhere near the head of the little big horn,--as his scouts informed him. we made rapid marches and reached general crook's camp on goose creek about the 3d of august. at this camp i met many old friends, among whom was colonel royal, who had received his promotion to the lieutenant colonelcy of the third cavalry. he introduced me to general crook, whom i had never met before, but of whom i had often heard. he also introduced me to the general's chief guide, frank grouard, a half breed, who had lived six years with sitting bull, and knew the country thoroughly. we remained in this camp only one day, and then the whole troop pulled out for the tongue river, leaving our wagons behind, but taking with us a large pack train. we marched down the tongue river for two days, thence in a westerly direction over to the rosebud, where we struck the main indian trail, leading down this stream. from the size of the trail, which appeared to be about four days old, we estimated that there must have been in the neighborhood of seven thousand indians who had made the broad trail. at this point we were overtaken by jack crawford, familiarly known as "captain jack, the poet scout of the black hills," and right here i will insert the following lines, written by him, just after the "custer massacre," upon receiving from me the following dispatch: "jack, old boy, have you heard of the death of custer?" custer's death. did i hear the news from custer? well, i reckon i did, old pard; it came like a streak of lightnin', and, you bet, it hit me hard. i ain't no hand to blubber, and the briny ain't run for years; but chalk me down for a lubber, if i didn't shed regular tears. what for? now look you here, bill, you're a bully boy, that's true; as good as e'er wore buckskin, or fought with the boys in blue; but i'll bet my bottom dollar ye had no trouble to muster a tear, or perhaps a hundred, at the news of the death of custer. he always thought well of you, pard, and had it been heaven's will, in a few more days you'd met him, and he'd welcome his old scout bill. for if ye remember at hat creek, i met ye with general carr; we talked of the brave young custer, and recounted his deeds of war. but little we knew even then, pard, (and that's just two weeks ago), how little we dreamed of disaster, or that he had met the foe-that the fearless, reckless hero, so loved by the whole frontier, had died on the field of battle in this, our centennial year. i served with him in the army, in the darkest days of the war: and i reckon ye know his record, for he was our guiding star; and the boys who gathered round him to charge in the early morn, war just like the brave who perished with him on the little horn. and where is the satisfaction, and how will the boys get square? by giving the reds more rifles? invite them to take more hair? we want no scouts, no trappers, nor men who know the frontier; phil, old boy, you're mistaken, _we must have the volunteer_. never mind that two hundred thousand but give us a hundred instead; send five thousand men towards reno, and soon we won't leave a red. it will save uncle sam lots of money, in fortress we need not invest, jest wollup the devils this summer, and the miners will do all the rest. the black hills are filled with miners, the big horn will soon be as full, and which will show the most danger to crazy horse and old sitting bull a band of ten thousand frontier men, or a couple of forts with a few of the boys in the east now enlisting- friend cody, i leave it with you. they talk of peace with these demons by feeding and clothing them well: i'd as soon think an angel from heaven would reign with contentment in h--l and one day the quakers will answer before the great judge of us all, for the death of daring young custer and the boys who round him did fall. perhaps i am judging them harshly, but i mean what i'm telling ye, pard; i'm letting them down mighty easy, perhaps they may think it is hard. but i tell you the day is approaching- the boys are beginning to muster-that day of the great retribution, the day of revenge for our custer. and i will be with you, friend cody, my weight will go in with the boys; i shared all their hardships last winter, i shared all their sorrows and joys; tell them i'm coming, friend william, i trust i will meet you ere long; regards to the boys in the mountains; yours, ever; in friendship still strong. jack was a new man in the country, but evidently had plenty of nerve and pluck, as he had brought dispatches from fort fetterman, a distance of 300 miles through a dangerous indian country. the dispatches were for general crook, and notified him that general terry was to operate with a large command south of the yellowstone, and that the two commands would probably consolidate somewhere on the rosebud. jack at once hunted me up and gave me a letter from general sheridan, informing me that he had appointed him (jack) as one of the scouts. while we were conversing, jack informed me that he had brought me a present from colonel jones of cheyenne, and that he had it in his saddle-pockets. asking the nature of the gift, he replied that it was only a bottle of good whiskey. i placed my hand over his mouth and told him to keep still, and not to whisper it even to the winds, for there were too many dry men around us; and only when alone with him did i dare to have him take the treasure from his saddle-pockets. in this connection i may remark that jack crawford is the only man i have ever known that could have brought that bottle of whiskey through without _accident_ befalling it, for he is one of the very few teetotal scouts i ever met. not wishing to have a game of "whiskey _solitaire_," i invited general carr to sample the bottle with me. we soon found a secluded spot, and dismounting, we thought we were going to have a nice little drink all by ourselves, when who should ride up but mr. lathrop, the reporter of the associated press of the pacific slope--to whom we had given the name of the "death rattler,"--and who was also known in san francisco as "the man with the iron jaw," he having, with the true nose of a reporter, smelt the whiskey from afar off, and had come to "interview" it. he was a good fellow withal, and we were glad to have him join us. now to resume: for two or three days we pushed on, but we did not seem to gain much on the indians, as they were evidently making about the same marches that we were. on the fourth or fifth morning of our pursuit, i rode ahead of the command about ten miles, and mounting a hill i scanned the country far and wide with my field glass, and discovered an immense column of dust rising about ten miles further down the creek, and soon i noticed a body of men marching towards me, that at first i believed to be the indians of whom we were in pursuit; but subsequently they proved to be general terry's command. i sent back word to that effect to general crook, by a scout who had accompanied me, but after he had departed i observed a band of indians on the opposite side of the creek, and also another party directly in front of me. this led me to believe that i had made a mistake. but shortly afterwards my attention was attracted by the appearance of a body of soldiers, who were forming into a skirmish line, and then i became convinced that it was general terry's command after all, and that the red-skins whom i had seen were some of his friendly indian scouts, who had mistaken me for a sioux, and fled back to their command terribly excited, shouting, "the sioux are coming!" general terry at once came to the post, and ordered the seventh cavalry to form line of battle across the rosebud; he also ordered up his artillery and had them prepare for action, doubtless dreading another "custer massacre." i afterwards learned the indians had seen the dust raised by general crook's forces, and had reported that the sioux were coming. these manoeuvres i witnessed from my position with considerable amusement, thinking the command must be badly demoralized, when one man could cause a whole army to form line of battle and prepare for action. having enjoyed the situation to my heart's content, i galloped down towards the skirmish line, waving my hat and when within about one hundred yards of the troops, colonel weir, of the seventh cavalry, galloped out and met me. he recognized me at once, and accompanied me inside the line; then he sang out, "boys, here's buffalo bill. some of you old soldiers know him; give him a cheer!" thereupon the regiment gave three rousing cheers, and it was followed up all along the line. colonel weir presented me to general terry, and in answer to his questions i informed him that the alarm of indians which had been given was a false one, as the dust seen by his scouts was caused by general crook's troops. general terry thereupon rode forward to meet general crook, and i accompanied him at his request. that night both commands went into camp on the rosebud. general terry had his wagon train with him, and everything to make life comfortable on an indian campaign. he had large wall tents and portable beds to sleep in, and large hospital tents for dining-rooms. his camp looked very comfortable and attractive, and presented a great contrast to that of general crook, who had for his headquarters only one small fly tent; and whose cooking utensils consisted of a quart cup--in which he made his coffee himself--and a stick, upon which he broiled his bacon. when i compared the two camps, i came to the conclusion that general crook was an indian fighter; for it was evident that he had learned that, to follow and fight indians, a body of men must travel lightly and not be detained by a wagon train or heavy luggage of any kind. that evening general terry ordered general miles to take his regiment, the fifth infantry, and return by a forced march to the yellowstone, and proceed down that river by steamboat to the mouth of powder river, to intercept the indians, in case they attempted to cross the yellowstone. general mills made a forced march that night of thirty-five miles, which was splendid traveling for an infantry regiment through a mountainous country. generals crook and terry spent that evening and the next day in council, and on the following morning both commands moved out on the indian trail. although general terry was the senior officer, he did not assume command of both expeditions, but left general crook in command of his own troops, although they operated together. we crossed the tongue river to powder river, and proceeded down the latter stream to a point twenty miles from its junction with the yellowstone, where the indian trail turned to the southeast in the direction of the black hills. the two commands now being nearly out of supplies, the trail was abandoned, and the troops kept on down powder river to its confluence with the yellowstone, and remained there several days. here we met general mills, who reported that no indians had as yet crossed the yellowstone. several steamboats soon arrived with a large quantity of supplies, and once more the "boys in blue" were made happy. chapter xxxi. dangerous work. one evening while we were in camp on the yellowstone at the mouth of powder river, i was informed that the commanding officers had selected louis richard, a half breed, and myself to accompany general mills on a scouting expedition on the steamer far west, down the yellowstone as far as glendive creek. we were to ride on the pilot house and keep a sharp lookout on both sides of the river for indian trails that might have crossed the stream. the idea of scouting on a steamboat was indeed a novel one to me, and i anticipated a pleasant trip. at daylight next morning we reported on board the steamer to general mills, who had with him four or five companies of his regiment. we were somewhat surprised when he asked us where our horses were, as we had not supposed that horses would be needed if the scouting was to be done on the steamer. he said we might need them before we got back, and thereupon we had the animals brought on board. in a few minutes we were booming down the river, at the rate of about twenty miles an hour. the steamer far west was commanded by captain grant marsh, whom i found to be a "brick." i had often heard of him, for he was and is yet one of the best known river captains in the country. he it was who, with his steamer the far west, transported the wounded men from the battle of the little big horn to fort abraham lincoln on the missouri river, and on that trip he made the fastest steamboat time on record. he was a skillful and experienced pilot, handling his boat with remarkable dexterity. while richard and myself were at our stations on the pilot house, the steamer with a full head of steam went flying past islands, around bends, over sand bars, at a rate that was exhilarating. presently i thought i could see horses grazing in a distant bend of the river and i reported the fact to general mills, who asked captain marsh if he could land the boat near a large tree which he pointed out to him. [illustration: scouting on a steamboat.] "yes, sir; i can land her there, and make her climb the tree if necessary," said he. on reaching the spot designated, general mills ordered two companies ashore, while richard and myself were ordered to take our horses off the boat and push out as rapidly as possible to see if there were indians in the vicinity. while we were getting ashore, captain marsh remarked that if there was only a good heavy dew on the grass he would shoot the steamer ashore and take us on the scout without the trouble of leaving the boat. it was a false alarm, however, as the objects we had seen proved to be indian graves. quite a large number of braves who had probably been killed in some battle, had been buried on scaffolds, according to the indian custom, and some of their clothing had been torn loose from the bodies by the wolves and was waving in the air. on arriving at glendive creek we found that colonel rice and his company of the fifth infantry, who had been sent there by general mills, had built quite a good little fort with their trowel-bayonets--a weapon which colonel rice was the inventor of, and which is, by the way, a very useful implement of war, as it can be used for a shovel in throwing up intrenchments and can be profitably utilized in several other ways. on the day previous to our arrival, colonel rice had a fight with a party of indians, and had killed two or three of them at long range with his rodman cannon. the far west was to remain at glendive over night, and general mills wished to send dispatches back to general terry at once. at his request i took the dispatches and rode seventy-five miles that night through the bad lands of the yellowstone, and reached general terry's camp next morning, after having nearly broken my neck a dozen times or more. there being but little prospect of any more fighting, i determined to go east as soon as possible to organize a new "dramatic combination," and have a new drama written for me, based upon the sioux war. this i knew would be a paying investment as the sioux campaign had excited considerable interest. so i started down the river on the steamer yellowstone _en route_ to fort beauford. on the same morning generals terry and crook pulled out for powder river, to take up the old indian trail which we had recently left. the steamer had proceeded down the stream about twenty miles when it was met by another boat on its way up the river, having on board general whistler and some fresh troops for general terry's command. both boats landed, and almost the first person i met was my old friend and partner, texas jack, who had been sent out as a dispatch carrier for the _new york herald_. general whistler, upon learning that general terry had left the yellowstone, asked me to carry to him some important dispatches from general sheridan, and although i objected, he insisted upon my performing this duty, saying that it would only detain me a few hours longer; as an extra inducement he offered me the use of his own thorough-bred horse, which was on the boat. i finally consented to go, and was soon speeding over the rough and hilly country towards powder river; and i delivered the dispatches to general terry that same evening. general whistler's horse, although a good animal, was not used to such hard riding, and was far more exhausted by the journey than i was. after i had taken a lunch, general terry asked me if i would carry some dispatches back to general whistler, and i replied that i would. captain smith, general terry's aid-de-camp, offered me his horse for the trip, and it proved to be an excellent animal; for i rode him that same night forty miles over the bad lands in four hours, and reached general whistler's steamboat at one o'clock. during my absence the indians had made their appearance on the different hills in the vicinity, and the troops from the boat had had several skirmishes with them. when general whistler had finished reading the dispatches, he said: "cody, i want to send information to general terry concerning the indians who have been skirmishing around here all day. i have been trying all the evening long to induce some one to carry my dispatches to him, but no one seems willing to undertake the trip, and i have got to fall back on you. it is asking a great deal, i know, as you have just ridden eighty miles; but it is a case of necessity, and if you'll go, cody, i'll see that you are well paid for it." "never mind about the pay," said i, "but get your dispatches ready, and i'll start at once." in a few minutes he handed me the package, and mounting the same horse which i had ridden from general terry's camp, i struck out for my destination. it was two o'clock in the morning when i left the boat, and at eight o'clock i rode into general terry's camp, just as he was about to march--having made one hundred and twenty miles in twenty-two hours. general terry, after reading the dispatches, halted his command, and then rode on and overtook general crook, with whom he held a council; the result was that crook's command moved on in the direction which they had been pursuing, while terry's forces marched back to the yellowstone and crossed the river on steamboats. at the urgent request of general terry i accompanied the command on a scout in the direction of the dry fork of the missouri, where it was expected we would strike some indians. the first march out from the yellowstone was made in the night, as we wished to get into the hills without being discovered by the sioux scouts. after marching three days, a little to the east of north, we reached the buffalo range, and discovered fresh signs of indians, who had evidently been killing buffaloes. general terry now called on me to carry dispatches to colonel rice, who was still camped at the mouth of glendive creek, on the yellowstone--distant about eighty miles from us. night had set in with a storm, and a drizzling rain was falling when, at ten o'clock, i started on this ride through a section of country with which i was entirely unacquainted. i traveled through the darkness a distance of about thirty-five miles, and at daylight i rode into a secluded spot at the head of a ravine where stood a bunch of ash trees, and there i concluded to remain till night; for i considered it a dangerous undertaking to cross the wide prairies in broad daylight--especially as my horse was a poor one. [illustration: close quarters] i accordingly unsaddled my animal, and ate a hearty breakfast of bacon and hard tack which i had stored in the saddle-pockets; then, after taking a smoke, i lay down to sleep, with my saddle for a pillow. in a few minutes i was in the land of dreams. after sleeping some time--i can't tell how long--i was suddenly awakened by a roaring, rumbling sound. i instantly seized my gun, sprang to my horse, and hurriedly secreted him in the brush. then i climbed up the steep side of the bank and cautiously looked over the summit; in the distance i saw a large herd of buffaloes which were being chased and fired at by twenty or thirty indians. occasionally a buffalo would drop out of the herd, but the indians kept on until they had killed ten or fifteen. they then turned back, and began to cut up their game. i saddled my horse and tied him to a small tree where i could reach him conveniently in case the indians should discover me by finding my trail and following it. i then crawled carefully back to the summit of the bluff, and in a concealed position watched the indians for two hours, during which time they were occupied in cutting up the buffaloes and packing the meat on their ponies. when they had finished this work they rode off in the direction whence they had come and on the line which i had proposed to travel. it appeared evident to me that their camp was located somewhere between me and glendive creek, but i had no idea of abandoning the trip on that account. i waited till nightfall before resuming my journey, and then i bore off to the east for several miles, and by making a semi-circle to avoid the indians, i got back on my original course, and then pushed on rapidly to colonel rice's camp, which i reached just at daylight. colonel rice had been fighting indians almost every day since he had been encamped at this point, and he was very anxious to notify general terry of the fact. of course i was requested to carry his dispatches. after remaining at glendive a single day i started back to find general terry, and on the third day out i overhauled him at the head of deer creek while on his way to colonel rice's camp. he was not, however, going in the right direction, but bearing too far to the east, and i so informed him. he then asked me to guide the command and i did so. on arriving at glendive i bade good-bye to the general and his officers and took passage on the steamer far west, which was on her way down the missouri. at bismarck i left the steamer, and proceeded by rail to rochester, new york, where i met my family. mr. j. clinton hall, manager of the rochester opera house, was very anxious to have me play an engagement at his theatre. i agreed to open the season with him as soon as i had got my drama written; and i did so, meeting with an enthusiastic reception. my new drama was arranged for the stage by j.v. arlington, the actor. it was a five-act play, without head or tail, and it made no difference at which act we commenced the performance. before we had finished the season several newspaper critics, i have been told, went crazy in trying to follow the plot. it afforded us, however, ample opportunity to give a noisy, rattling, gunpowder entertainment, and to present a succession of scenes in the late indian war, all of which seemed to give general satisfaction. from rochester i went to new york and played a very successful engagement at the grand opera house under the management of messrs. poole and donnelly. thence my route took me to all the principal cities in the eastern, western and middle states, and i everywhere met with crowded houses. i then went to the pacific coast, against the advice of friends who gave it as their opinion that my style of plays would not take very well in california. i opened for an engagement of two weeks at the bush street theatre, in san francisco, at a season when the theatrical business was dull, and ben debar and the lingards were playing there to empty seats. i expected to play to a slim audience on the opening night, but instead of that i had a fourteen hundred dollar house. such was my success that i continued my engagement for five weeks, and the theatre was crowded at every performance. upon leaving san francisco i made a circuit of the interior towns and closed the season at virginia city, nevada. on my way east, i met my family at denver, where they were visiting my sisters nellie and may who were then residing there. some time previously i had made arrangements to go into the cattle business in company with my old friend, major frank north, and while i was in california he had built our ranches on the south fork of the dismal river, sixty-five miles north of north platte, in nebraska. proceeding to ogalalla, the headquarters of the texas cattle drovers, i found major north there awaiting me, and together we bought, branded and drove to our ranches, our first installment of cattle. this occupied us during the remainder of the summer. leaving the cattle in charge of major north, i visited red cloud agency early in the fall, and secured some sioux indians to accompany me on my theatrical tour of 1877-78. taking my family and the indians with me, i went directly to rochester. there i left my oldest daughter, arta, at a young ladies' seminary, while my wife and youngest child traveled with me during the season. i opened at the bowery theatre, new york, september 3d, 1877, with a new border drama entitled, "may cody, or lost and won," from the pen of major a.s. burt, of the united states army. it was founded on the incidents of the "mountain meadow massacre," and life among the mormons. it was the best drama i had yet produced, and proved a grand success both financially and artistically. the season of 1877-78 proved to be the most profitable one i had ever had. in february, 1878, my wife became tired of traveling, and proceeded to north platte, nebraska, where, on our farm adjoining the town, she personally superintended the erection of a comfortable family residence, and had it all completed when i reached there, early in may. in this house we are now living, and we hope to make it our home for many years to come. chapter xxxii. conclusion. after my arrival at north platte, i found that the ranchmen or cattle-men, had organized a regular annual "round-up," to take place in the spring of the year. the word "round-up" is derived from the fact that during the winter months the cattle become scattered over a vast tract of land, and the ranchmen assemble together in the spring to sort out and each secure his own stock. they form a large circle, often of a circumference of two hundred miles, and drive the cattle towards a common centre, where, all the stock being branded, each owner can readily separate his own from the general herd, and then he drives them to his own ranch. in this cattle driving business is exhibited some most magnificent horsemanship, for the "cow-boys," as they are called, are invariably skillful and fearless horsemen--in fact only a most expert rider could be a cow-boy, as it requires the greatest dexterity and daring in the saddle to cut a wild steer out of the herd. major north was awaiting me, upon my arrival at north platte, having with him our own horses and men. other cattle owners, such as keith and barton, coe and carter, jack pratt, the walker brothers, guy and sim lang, arnold and ritchie and a great many others with their outfits, were assembled and were ready to start on the round-up. my old friend dave perry, who had presented buckskin joe to me, and who resided at north platte, was most anxious to go with us for pleasure, and frank north told him he could, and have plenty of fun, provided he would furnish his own horses, provisions and bedding, and do the usual work required of a cow-boy. this, dave was willing to undertake. we found him to be a good fellow in camp, and excellent company. as there is nothing but hard work on these round-ups, having to be in the saddle all day, and standing guard over the cattle at night, rain or shine, i could not possibly find out where the fun came in, that north had promised me. but it was an exciting life, and the days sped rapidly by; in six weeks we found ourselves at our own ranch on dismal river, the round-up having proved a great success, as we had found all our cattle and driven them home. this work being over, i proposed to spend a few weeks with my family at north platte, for the purpose of making their better acquaintance, for my long and continued absence from home made me a comparative stranger under my own roof-tree. one great source of pleasure to me was that my wife was delighted with the home i had given her amid the prairies of the far west. soon after my arrival, my sisters nellie and may, came to make us a visit, and a delightful time we all had during their stay. when they left us, i accompanied them to their home in denver, colorado, where i passed several days visiting old friends and scenes. returning to ogallala i purchased from bill phant, an extensive cattle drover from texas, a herd of cattle, which i drove to my ranch on the dismal river, after which i bade my partner and the boys good-bye, and started for the indian territory to procure indians for my dramatic combination for the season of 1878-79. _en route_ to the territory, i paid a long promised visit to my sisters, julia--mrs. j.a. goodman--and eliza--mrs. george m. myers--who reside in kansas, the state which the reader will remember was my boyhood home. having secured my indian actors, and along with them mr. o. a. burgess, a government interpreter, and ed. a. burgess, known as the "boy chief of the pawnees," i started for baltimore, where i organized my combination, and which was the largest troupe i had yet had on the road; opening in that city at the opera house, under the management of hon. john t. ford, and then started on a southern tour, playing in washington, richmond and as far south as savannah, georgia, where we were brought to a sudden halt, owing to the yellow fever which was then cruelly raging in the beautiful cities of the "land of the cotton and the cane." [illustration: one of the troupe.] while playing in washington, i suddenly learned from a reporter--washington newspaper men know everything--that my indians were to be seized by the government and sent back to their agency. finding that there was foundation for the rumor, i at once sought general carl shurz, secretary of the interior, and asked him if he intended depriving me of my indian actors. he said that he did, as the indians were away from their reservation without leave. i answered that i had had indians with me the year before and nothing had been said about it; but commissioner haight replied that the indians were the "wards of the government," and were not allowed off of their reservation. i told the commissioner that the indians were frequently off of their reservations out west, as i had a distinct remembrance of meeting them upon several occasions "on the war path," and furthermore i thought i was benefitting the indians as well as the government, by taking them all over the united states, and giving them a correct idea of the customs, life, etc., of the pale faces, so that when they returned to their people they could make known all they had seen. after a conversation with the secretary of the interior, the commissioner concluded to allow me to retain the indians, by appointing me indian agent, provided i would give the necessary bonds, and pledge myself to return them in safety to their agency--which terms i agreed to. from savannah, georgia, having changed my route on account of the yellow fever, i jumped my entire company to philadelphia, and at once continued on a north-eastern tour, having arranged with the well-known author and dramatist, colonel prentiss ingraham, to write a play for me. the drama entitled "the knight of the plains, or buffalo bill's best trail," was first produced at new haven, conn.; it has proved a great success, and i expect to play it in england, where i purpose to go next season on a theatrical tour, having been urged to do so by my many friends abroad. after a successful tour of six weeks on the pacific slope, thus ending the season of 1878-79, i am at my home at north platte, nebraska, for the summer; and thus ends the account of my career as far as it has gone. the end. 