Last of the great scouts; the life story of Col. William F. Cody ("Buffalo Bill")

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03

JOSEPH MCDOI

RARE BOO

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS

THE AUTHOR CONSULTING HER BROTHER

,lAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS

THE LIFE STORY OP

COL. WILLIAM F. CODY

(''BUFFALO BILL")

AS TOLD BY HIS SISTER

HELEN CODY WETMORE

COPYRIGHT, 1899

IN
THE UNITED STATES, GREAT BRITAIN AND FRANCE

BY

HELEN CODY WETMORE

THE DUI.UTH PRESS PRINTING CO.

DUUJTH, MINN., U.S.A.

PUBLISHERS

183

ioi

TO THE MEMORY OF A

SAINTED MOTHER,

WHOSE CHRISTIAN CHARACTER

STILL LIVES A HALLOWED

INFLUENCE.

PREFACE.

In presenting this volume to the public, the writer has a
two-fold purpose. For a number of years there has been
an increasing demand for an authentic biography of " Buf-
falo 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 inci-
dents 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. Sheri-
dan, 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 Colonel
Cody'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 Colonel Cody as a boy Indian slayer,
a champion buffalo hunter, a brave soldier, a daring scout,
an intrepid frontiersman and a famous exhibitor. It is only

v

VI PREFACE.

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 con-
scious 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.

CONTENTS.

PREFACE v

CHAPTER I.

The Old Homestead in Iowa — Death of Samuel Cody — A Strange
Prophecy and its Fulfilment — The Migration to Kansas— First
Night in Camp, and Will's First Deer— The Rescue of Turk— An
African Apparition — Temporary Stop in Missouri I

CHAPTER II.

Will's First Indian — A Horse Trade Spoiled — The Great Overland
Trail — The Kansas-Nebraska Bill— The Home in Kansas — Two
Babes, a Dog and a Panther — The Fearless Fidelity of Turk —
Will to the Rescue 7

CHAPTER III.

The Shadow of Partisan Strife — Father's Political Standing — The
Meeting at Rively's — Father Avows His Free State Sympathies,
and is Struck Down — Beginning of the Persecution— Ruffian
Visitors — The Flight to Doniphan — Col. Jim Lane and His Band
of Avengers — Father's Return 13

^CHAPTER IV.

Persecution Continues — The Adventures of Mr. Sharpe — A Night
Attack — Outwitted by a Woman — The Sawmill at Grasshopper
Falls — Will Takes the Road — The Ambush at Big Stranger's
Creek — A Ride to Save a Father's Life — The I/e Compton Legis-
lature— Ohio Emigrants — Death of Isaac Cody 19

vii

Vlll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER V.

An Unjust Claim— Will Signs a Pledge— The " Boy Extra " of the
Bull-Train — Attacked by Indians — The Flight by the River —
Will's First Dead Indian— Arrival at Fort Kearney— The Wreck
of the Bull-Train 26

CHAPTER VI.

The Lawsuit— Lawyer Douglass's Plea— Arrival of the Missing Wit-
ness—Sister Martha's Wedding— The Germ of the Wild West
Show— An Experience with Hard Cider— Off for Fort Bridger—
Raided by Danites — Winter Quarters and Short Rations 34

CHAPTER VII.

Hemmed in by Indians — The Dead-Mule Barricade — A Dream that
Saved Three Lives — Sister Martha's Death — Will Goes to
School— Turk's Rescue of His Master— The Fight with Steve
Gobel— Off for the Plains Again 41

CHAPTER VIII.

The Valley Grove House — A Trapping Expedition and a Brush with
Indians — A Cave of Horrors — The Death and Burial of Turk — A
Mild Attack of Gold Fever — Will as a Pony Express Rider ...51

CHAPTER IX.

The Pony Express is " Held Up " — Another Trapping Expedition —
Fight with a Bear — A Broken Leg — Alone in the Dugout — An
Indian Visit and a Touch of Auld Lang Syne — A Desperate Sit-
uation— An Eleventh-Hour Rescue — Home Again — Death of
Dave Phillips 61

CHAPTER X.

Echoes from Sumter — A Station on the Underground Railway —
Uncle Tom and his Sufferings — Will Drops his First Buffalo, and
Saves a Life — With the Pony Express Again — California Joe —
Indian Troubles— Wild Bill , . 68

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTER XI.

The Work of the " Black Water," and the Retribution— A Short but
Dashing Indian Campaign — A Bear Hunt without a Bear — In a
Den of Horse Thieves — What came of Picking up Sage Hens —
Government Freighting 76

CHAPTER XII.

The Mother's Last Illness— Her Charge to the Writer— Last Message

for Will and Julia— Her Death 84

CHAPTER XIII.

A Frontier Funeral— Off to the War— Will as Dispatch Bearer— An
Ambuscade that Failed — Death of Ed. Norcross — An Economi-
cal Administrator and a Lesson in Economy — Will Reports for
"Secret Service"— A Perilous Mission 88

CHAPTER XIV.

The Role of a Spy — In the Lion's Den — A Ride for Life — Indian
Trouble on the Old Santa F6 Trail— Will's First Big Battle —
Wild Bill Again— Bread Cast Upon the Waters— Colonel Hickok's
Daring Dash 98

CHAPTER XV.

A St. Louis Detail— The Fair Equestrienne— A Rescue and a Be-
trothal— The Overland Stage Route — Will as a Driver — Another
Race for Life — Turnabout at " Holding Up " is Fair Play . . . 109

CHAPTER XVI.

The Wedding— Will Turns Landlord — First Effort as an Individual
Freighter and its Disastrous Ending — Scouting at Fort Fletcher
— The Meeting with General Custer — The Mouse-Colored Mule —
A Voice in the Night— "The Colored Troops Fight Nobly"—
The City of Rome 120

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVII.

How the Sobriquet of " Buffalo Bill " Was Won— The Remarkable
Performances of Brigham and Lucretia Borgia — A Contest of
Skill in Buffalo Hunting — Will Returns to Scouting — A Danger-
ous Ride — A Tricky Mule, and What Happened to It 134

CHAPTER XVIII.

Satanta, Chief of the Kiowas— Scout Cody is Captured and Tomahawked
" for a Joke" — A Stern Chase — One Way of Bringing Meat into
Camp— General Carr's Expedition— A Big Battle with the Red-
skins 142

CHAPTER XIX.

At Fort McPherson — Pawnee Scouts — "Buckskin Joe" — The Cam-
paign Against the Sioux — The Stand in the Ravine — A Long
Shot, and the Fall of Tall Bull— His Widow's Sentiments . . . 151

CHAPTER XX.

Army Life at Fort McPherson— A Buffalo Hunt, and What Came of
It — "William F. Cody, Justice of the Peace" — The Beacon on
the Hill-top — Ned Buntline— The Sioux Legend of the Creation
— The Great Spirit's Masterpiece , 157

CHAPTER XXI.

Another Marriage — A Lodge in the Wilderness — An Indian Raid and
the Death of Little John — Frontier Banking — A Mirage — Smoked
Out — General Duncan's Expedition — Distinguished Visitors — A
Visit to Spotted Tail 167

CHAPTER XXII.

The Hunt of the Grand Duke Alexis — A Ride to be Remembered —
Journey to the East — A Call for a Dramatic Hero — Social Obli-
gations— Will Plays Lucullus, and is Staggered by the Cost
Thereof — A Visit to Pennsylvania Relatives 176

CONTENTS. xi

CHAPTER XXIII.

Stolen Horses— Will is Elected to the Nebraska Legislature— A
Theatrical Venture — Remarkable Performance of "The Scout
of the Plains"— Wild Bill Grows Restless— Will Organizes a
Theatrical Company of his Own — Death of Kit Carson Cody . . 183

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Sioux Uprising of '76 — Sitting Bull the Cause of the War —
Custer's Campaign — The Fifth Cavalry's Brush with Cheyennes —
A Prairie Duel — The Sioux War on the Mimic Stage — "Scouts
Rest Ranch "—An Oasis in the Desert 192

CHAPTER XXV.

Literary Work — Colonel Cody's Autobiography — Guests at North
Platte— A Deer Hunt— Why the Fawn Went Free— The Ranch
on the Dismal River — Nine Days Camp in the Foothills — An
Estimate of Colonel Cody's Success as an Actor 200

CHAPTER XXVI.

First Visit to the Valley of the Big Horn — An Indian Description v. t
Eithity Tugala, the Ijis of the Red Man — Colonel Cody's Account
of the Beauties of the Big Horn Basin— The Haunted Lake— The
Commands of the Great Spirit from an Indian Point of View . 210

CHAPTER XXVII.

Organization of the "Wild West Show" — Opening at Omaha — Tour
of Great Britain — Spectacular Effects — In London— Luncheon in
Honor of Gladstone — Patronage of Royalty — The Queen's Salute
to the American flag — The Deadwood Coach — Indian Breakfasts
— Homeward Bound 218

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Return of the Wild West Show to America— A Letter from W. T.
Sherman — The Season on Staten Island — An Invitation to Lead
in Prayer — OS for Europe Again — The Sojourn in Paris — Rosa
Bonheur — Pope Leo's Anniversary — The Cowboys Show the Ital-
ians Some Points in Horse Taming — Tour of Germany .... 229

Xll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXIX.

Return to America — The Sioux Uprising of '91 — Influence Exerted
Over the Indians by the Wild West Show — Will's Opinion of
General Miles — Banquet in Honor of the General — Burning of
"Welcome Wigwam" — Back to Europe — End of the Foreign
Tour 237

CHAPTER XXX.

A Thousand Miles in the Saddle with " Buffalo Bill "— " The Garden
of the Gods" — Preparations for the World's Fair — "The Con-
gress of Rough Riders" — Newspaper Enterprise in Dufuth —
Cody Sanatorium 243

CHAPTER XXXI.

"The Tented City " — An Incident in a Boston Hospital — The Wild
West Visits North Platte— Cody Day at the Omaha Exposition—
A Reunion of Pioneers 250

CHAPTER XXXII.

The Taming of the Wild West — Grass-Grown Trails and Hoary Land-
marks—The Trails of Steel— Old and New Modes of Travel Con-
trasted—The Buffalo — The Indian— The " Last of the Scouts " . 261

LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

THE AUTHOR CONSULTING HER BROTHER. Frontispiece.

FACING PAGE

THE OLD CODY HOMESTEAD IN IOWA . . . . .34
THE FAMOUS " LEATHER STOCKING " OF ROMANCE BECOMES

A TEN-YEAR-OLD REALITY 46

WILL GUARDING His SICK FATHER 's LIFE . . . .58
A SICK BOY'S DESPERATE RIDE TO SAVE A FATHER'S LIFE . 70
NINE-YEAR-OLD WILL CODY ASKING MR. MAJORS FOR WORK 84
NOVEL AND NARROW ESCAPE FROM AN INDIAN ATTACK . 96
" LITTLE BILLY CODY " KILLS His FIRST INDIAN . .no
LIVELY STAMPEDE FROM THE CAVE OF HORRORS . . .122
WILL RESCUES His HELPLESS COMRADE FROM A WOUNDED

BEAR 136

VISITING His FATHER'S GRAVE 148

A DEADLY ENCOUNTER WITH HORSE THIEVES . . .162
WILL BECOMES ONE OF THE GALLANT BOYS IN BLUE . .174
' ' SCOUT'S REST RANCH" — NORTH PLATTE, NEBRASKA . 188
CEDAR MOUNTAIN CANON — BIG HORN BASIN, NEAR THE

TOWN OF CODY, WYOMING 202

COLONEL CODY'S FAMOUS OLD WAR HORSE, "CHARLIE" . 214
"WELCOME WIGWAM" — COLONEL CODY'S RESIDENCE AT

NORTH PLATTE, NEBRASKA 226

" CODY DAY" AT THE TRANS-MISSISSIPPI EXPOSITION,
OMAHA — BUFFALO BILL'S WILD WEST PARADE LEAV-
ING MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, 1899 .... 240
LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS 261

THIRTY-TWO INITIAL ILLUSTRATIONS.

Xlll

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS

CHAPTER I.

THE OLD HOMESTEAD IN IOWA — DEATH OF SAMUEL CODY —
A STRANGE PROPHECY AND ITS FULFILMENT — THE
MIGRATION TO KANSAS — FIRST NIGHT IN CAMP, AND
WILL'S FIRST DEER — THE RESCUE OF TURK — AN AFRICAN
APPARITION — TEMPORARY STOP IN MISSOURI.

PHEASANT, 'roomy farmhouse,
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.

Isaac and Mary Qpdy, my
parents, had settled in Daven-
port, Iowa, after their marriage.
Shortly afterward the family
moved to a farm near the little
town of I^eClair, and at this
place — the farmhouse in the
dancing sunshine, with a back-
ground of wood and meadow — my brother, William F. 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.

No doubt old settlers in Iowa will remember "Betsy
Baker," a mare of speed and pedigree, but displaying at times
a most malevolent temper. Upon one fateful day Samuel was

i

2 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

riding Betsy, 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 her-
self 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 fondly centered our parents'
hopes and aims. These, naturally, were transferred to the
3'ounger, now the only, son, and the hope that mother, espe-
cially, held for him was strangely stimulated by the remem-
brance 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 fulfilment of one prophecy, which fell out in this
wise:

To a Southern city, which my mother, then a young girl,
was visiting with a brother's wife, there came a celebrated for-
tune-teller, and, led by curiosity solely, 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 fort-
night ; but the dread augury was fulfilled to the letter, for all
three were stricken with yellow fever, and died within less
than the time set. This startling confirmation of the sooth-
sayer's divining powers not unnaturally affected my mother's
belief in that part of the prophecy relating to herself — that

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 3

' ' she would meet her future husband on the steamboat by
which she expected to return home ; that she would be mar-
ried 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 between past
and future ; was it, then, strange that mother looked with un-
usual 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 concern-
ing his future should be kept, 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 fulfil-
ment, and with childish veneration regarded Will as one des-
tined 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 apogee,
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 ; but before his plans attained to completion he fell in
with certain disappointed goldseekers returning from the
Coast and impressed by their representations, decided for
Kansas instead of California.

Our equipment for the journey surpassed that of the average
emigrant. In addition to the three prairie schooners, contain-
ing our household goods, we owned a roomy family carriage,
in which mother and daughters rode. Brother Will, possessor
of the three things dearest to the heart of a boy — dog, horse,

4 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

and gun — constituted himself our bodyguard, riding beside us
upon his pony, with his gun across his saddle, and the dog
trotting behind. To Will, this Western trip thrilled with pos-
sible 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 ferryboat for its crossing,
and as the nearest dwelling was a dozen miles away, it was
decided that we should camp by the streamside. 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 to pitch the tents on.

My brother's career forcibly illustrates the fact that environ-
ment 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 bo# of Will's age should have stood immov-
able, staring dazedly at the graceful animal until it vanished

OF THE GRRAT vSCOUTS. 5

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 mastered his nerves, took aim with steady hand, and
brought down his first deer.

Upon the following Sabbath we were again camped by the
bank of a deep, swift-running stream, across which Turk,
wearied and heated by a rabbit chase, attempted to swim, but
the water chilled him, and he would have perished had not
Will hastened to the rescue without a second's hesitation. The
ferryman, in his turn, seeing an eight-year-old boy opposing
the rapid current, sprang for his boat and sculled after him.
Will succeeded in reaching the other shore, and the comment
of the ferryman was :

" You're a fool, boy, to risk your life in swimming a stream
like this !"

" But I couldn't let my dog drown ! " cried Will, surprised
that anyone should call into question so plain a fact.

" Well," said the ferryman, smiling grimly, " you're gritty,
anyway. You ought to make your mark in the world." And
he took boy and dog into his boat for the return trip.

Turk plays so conspicuous and important a part in our early
lives that he deserves a brief description. He was a large and
powerful animal, part bull and, all prejudice aside, one of the
most sagacious and devoted of the canine tribe. We regarded
him as our best friend when we set forth on our pilgrimage ;
and when, in later days, his fidelity and almost human intelli-
gence were repeatedly the means of saving life and property,
we installed him as a member of the family — ever faithful,
loyal, and ready to lay down his life in our service. He was
none the worse for his plunge in the river, and his gratitude to
Will was attended by added devotion. 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

6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

father in season to protect the camp from attack by suspicious
night-prowlers.

Indeed, this trip was memorable for all of us, perhaps espe-
cially 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 comfort-
able farmhouse, at which father made inquiry concerning a
lodging for the night. A widow lived there, and the informa-
tion 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 ' ' Massa ' ' 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, a.'i
the journey had been long and toilsome, despite the fact that
it had been enlivened by many interesting incidents and
thoroughly enjoyed by all of the family.

CHAPTER II.

WILL' S FIRST INDIAN — A HORSE TRADE SPOILED — THE GREAT
OVERLAND TRAIL — THE KANSAS-NEBRASKA BILL — THE
HOME IN KANSAS — TWO BABES, A DOG AND A PANTHER
— THE FEARLESS FIDELITY OF TURK — WILL TO THE
RESCUE.

Y uncle's home was in Wes-
ton, Platte County, Missouri,
at that time the large city of
the West. As father was de-
sirous of settling again as soon
as possible, he left us at Wes-
ton, and after resting a bit,
himself 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 de-
sirable location, and one morn-
ing Will, wearied in the rec-
onnaissance, and not yet rested from our former journey, was
left asleep at the night's camping-place, while father and the
guide rode away to the day's exploring.

When Will opened his eyes they fell upon the most interest-
ing 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 miser-
able, scrawny beast.

7

8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

Will's boyish dreams were now a reality ; lie 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 begone. 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 pale-face 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 to 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."

" Pale-face boy fool !" returned the Indian, serenely.

Now this was scarcely the main point at issue, so Will con-
tented himself with replying quietly but firmly :

" You cannot take my horse."

The Indian condescended to temporize. ' ' Pale- face 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 horse-flesh. " 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
4 * I,o 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 L,o went back to his lofty
niche, 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.

After a search of nearly a week father had come upon a spot

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 9

that seemed to him almost ail earthly paradise, and to fetch
Will to it was the errand of the guide.

There were at this time two great highways of Western
travel ; later the Oregon Trail came into prominence. The old
historic route, known as the Santa Fe Trail, was the route fol-
lowed 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, dip-
ping 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
Kearney. 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 fol-
low 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 selected a claim two miles dis-

10 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

tant, in the picturesque Salt Creek Valley, now in Leaven-
worth County, Kansas.

The Kansas- Nebraska Bill, which provided for the organiz-
ing 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° 30" north latitude. A clause in the new bill pro-
vided 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 Mis-
souri, 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 after-
ward. 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 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 line 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. II

duties claimed her every waking hour, as mother was delicate,
and the family a large one, so Turk officiated as both guar-
dian 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 neigh-
boring 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 dis-
patched 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-

12 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 scarce 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.

The helpless, hopeless ordeal of agony was broken by a
rifle's sharp report. The panther fell, shot through his savage
heart, and out from the screen of leaves rushed two sobbing,
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 storm of sobs was passed we
turned to Turk. Happily his injuries were slight, and he had
recovered consciousness 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 — FATHER'S POLITICAL
STANDING — THE MEETING AT RIVELY'S — FATHER AVOWS

HIS FREE STATE SYMPATHIES AND IS STRUCK DOWN —
BEGINNING OF THE PERSECUTION — RUFFIAN VISITORS —
THE FLIGHT TO DONIPHAN— COL. JIM LANE AND HIS

BAND OF AVENGERS — FATHER'S RETURN.

WING to the conditions under
which Kansas was settled, al-
ready spoken of, all classes
were represented in its popu-
lation. Honest, thrifty farm-
ers and well-to-do traders leav-
ened 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 the
step that took us to this new
and untried land, he kept his
own counsel, and set a brave
face against the future.

He had stood 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
that did not believe in slavery. For a year he kept his opin-
ions 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,

13

14 I* AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

a pronounced Pro-Slavery man ; so they regarded father as a
promising leader in their cause. He had avoided the issue,
and had skilfully 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.

Rively's store 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 large and noisy with excitement, 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. L,awrence, were present.

Father's appearance was greeted by a clamor for a speech;
but 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
j 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 fair-
est 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 dumbfounded by his

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 15

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 ; ere men could inter-
fere, several desperadoes leaped forward, 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 mur-
derous assailant, cried out in boyhood's fury :

"You have killed my father! When I'm a man I'll kill
you for it !"

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.

Uncle Elijah, Rively, Mr. Hathaway, Mr. Lawrence and
Will remained, and, finding father still alive, they planned to
shield him for the moment, and later bear him home. First
the muttering crowd must be dispersed, and Rively went out to
rate them soundly for casting the odium of murder upon his
store. ."You've done mischief enough for one day," he cried
angrily, " go home !"

And they went, but so slowly that dusk came on before the
coast was clear. Father's wounds had been staunched, but
with the effort to move the blood flowed afresh. Mr. Hath-
away and Will helped him to a hiding-place in the long grass
by the wa}^side, and while the former went on to inform
mother, Will and Turk remained to guard and cheer. Slowly
and painfully the wounded man dragged himself homeward
through the grass, marking his tortured progress with a trail
of blood.

It was such wild scenes as these that left their impress on
the youth and fashioned the Cody of the later years — cool in
emergency, fertile in resource, swift in decision, dashing and
intrepid when the time for action came.

Our troubles, alas! were but begun. Father had lost much
blood, and his convalescence was long and tedious ; he never
recovered fully. His enemies believed him dead, and for a

1 6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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.

"I^ucky 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 corn-
field must remain his screen. After several days the exposure
and anxiety told on his strength. He decided to leave home
and go to Fort L,eavenworth, four miles distant. When night
fell he returned to the house, packed a few needed articles,
9.nd bade us farewell. Will urged that he ride Prince, but he

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 17

regarded his journey as safer afoot. It was a sad parting.
None of us knew whether we should see our father again.

" 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 L,eavenworth in safety, but the quarrel
betwixt the Pro-Slavery Party and the Free Soilers waxed
more bitter, and he decided that security Jay farther on, so he
took passage on an up-river boat to Doniphan, twenty miles
distant. This was a mere landing-place, but he found a small
band of men in camp cooking supper. They were part of Col.
Jim pane'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 L,ovejoy, who was killed in 1836 for maintain-
ing an Anti-Slavery newspaper in Illinois. The Kansas con-
test 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 I,ane recruited a band
of hardy men to protect the Anti-Slavery settlers, and incident-
ally to avenge the murder of L,ovejoy.

The meeting of father and pane's men was a meeting of
friends, and he chose to cast his lot with theirs. Shortly after-
ward 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

1 8 I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 har-
assed by apprehensions for his safety.

CHAPTER IV.

PERSECUTION CONTINUES — THE ADVENTURES OF MR. SHARPE
— A NIGHT ATTACK — OUTWITTED BY A WOMAN — THE
SAWMILL AT GRASSHOPPER FALLS — WILL TAKES THE
ROAD — THE AMBUSH AT BIG STRANGER'S CREEK — A RIDE
TO SAVE A FATHER'S LIFE — THE LE COMPTON LEGISLA-
TURE— OHIO EMIGRANTS — DEATH OF ISAAC CODY.

OTHER'S fears were well
grounded. A few days after
father's home-coming, 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 hus-
band of yours. " As a prelimi-
nary, the intoxicated ruffian
demanded something to eat,
and condescended to accept an

appetizing supper, which mother, with a show of hospitality,

set before him.

While this was preparing, 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

20 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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, which 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 horse-flesh, 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 mali-
cious grin :

" That's a nice pony of yours, sonny. Guess I' 11 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, and
repeat the performance with the other leg. This little comedy
had a delighted spectator in Will, who had followed at a safe
distance, and 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 of the road . 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."

<l That's a bargain ! " cried Will, restored to good-humor ;

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 21

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 not rid of him for long.

About a fortnight later we were enjoying an evening with
father, who was able to sit up for a few hours, though not
daring to show himself in daylight. 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's. 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, and, 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, while baby was put in his crib and left in
charge of Eliza. Will, the hired man and Jane were armed
and given their cue. They were handy with their weapons in
case necessity demanded their use; but mother sought to win
by strategy, if possible. She bade the older girls don heavy
boots, and gave them further instructions, by which time
the horsemen had reached the gate. Their leader was the re-
doubtable Justice Sharpe. He rode up to the door and rapped
with the butt of his riding- whip. Mother threw up the
xvindow overhead.

" Who's there? and what do you want?" she demanded.

" We want that old abolition husband of yours and, dead or
ilive, 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

2 a LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 I^ane 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 nonplussed
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 frying
home before the forenoon was half spent.

After this experience father decided that, for our sake 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 his father's safety, so, dressing, he presented
his fever-flushed face to mother. As he held out a handker-
chief, "Tie it tight around my head, mother," said he;
" then it won't ache so hard."

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 23

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-five miles lay between him and father; yet he was not
to be dissuaded from making the attempt to save his father.
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; and 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 seemingly discerned that something extraordi-
nary 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 pursuer and pursued sped through the
forests, clattered over bridges and worked up hill and down.

Then broke the long-impending storm, and the hard road
became the bed of a muddy stream. The pursuit was aban-

24 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

doned, and this stimulus removed, Will, drenched to the skin,
felt the chills and weakness coming on again. It was an
effort to keep his saddle, but he set his teeth firmly in his
resolve to accomplish his self-imposed task.

At last! A welcome light gleamed between the crystal bars
of the rain, and Prince's rider toppled from his saddle into
father's arms.

His ride was longer by ten miles than that famous gallop of
the friend of his after years — Phil Sheridan. And, like Sheri-
dan, he reached the goal in time, for father was just mounting
his horse.

His mission accomplished, Will collapsed and was put to
bed, and when he was somewhat recovered father started with
him for Topeka, which was headquarters for the Free State
party. This second ride proved too much for Will, and the
effects of it confined him to his bed for some time.

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 I,eCompton. 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 govern-
ment. 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 so-
cieties, and realizing that in a still larger Northern emigration
to Kansas lay the only hope of its admission as a Free State,
father in the spring went back to Ohio, to labor for the salva-
tion of the territory he had chosen for his home. Here his

I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 25

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 dis-
regard 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 Leaven worth, 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,
enjoyed by a united family. 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 done was done, but his days were num-
bered, and after a very short illness he passed away — one of
the first martyrs in the cause of Kansas freedom.

The land of his adoption, made beautiful by God and dese-
crated by His creature man, 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 granted a tribute of respect to a
man that had been upright and just and generous to friend
and foe.

CHAPTER V.

AN UNJUST CLAIM — WILL SIGNS A PLEDGE — THE " BOY EX-
TRAM OF THE BULL-TRAIN—ATTACKED BY INDIANS—
THE FLIGHT BY THE RIVER — WILL'S FIRST DEAD INDIAN
— ARRIVAL AT FORT KEARNEY — THE WRECK OF THE
BULL-TRAIN.

T this sorrowful period mother
was herself almost at death's
door with consumption, but,
far from sinking under the
blow, she faced the new con-
ditions with a steadfast calm,
realizing that, should she too
be taken, her children would
be left without a protector, 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.
Scarce 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 she had neglected to
retain the receipts. In those bitter, troublous days it too often
happened that brother turned against brother, and Elijah re-
tained his fealty to his party at the expense of his dead broth-
er's family.
26

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 27

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 were this unjust claim for a thou-
sand dollars allowed we should be homeless.

The upshot of mother's study of the situation was : <4 If I
had the ready money I should fight the claim."

Echo, in the person of Will, now eleven years old, replied :
' ' You fight the claim and I' 11 get the money. ' '

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 L,eavenworth. To Will's
suggestion mother entered a demurrer, but finally yielded
before his brave 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 lan-
guage, 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

28 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 a two months' trip. The moment of
parting came, and it was a tearful one for mother, so recently
bereft of husband. Will sought to soothe her, but the
younger sisters had better success, for with tears in our eyes
we crowded about him and implored him to " run if he saw
any Indians."

'Tis but a step from tears to smiles ; the situation was re-
lieved, 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, and the plains lay
before him, and mother and sisters were to be helped, and 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 bull-
whacker. 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 cover-
ing of heavy canvas, and had a freight capacity of seven thou-
sand pounds.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 29

Besides the buliwh ackers 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 dis-
posed in messes, each mess providing its own wood and water,
doing its own cooking and washing up its own tin dinner ser-
vice, 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 impos-
sible to " hustle the East" ; it were as easy, as Will dis-
covered, 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 riin
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 a background of dark, illimitable prairie. Every-
thing was animation; the bull whackers unhitching and dis-
posing of their teams, the herders staking out the cattle, and
— not the least interesting — the mess cooks preparing the
evening meal at the crackling campfires.

But 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 whis-
tled dismally; days when torrents fell and swelled the streams
that must be crossed, and when the mud lay ankle deep; days

30 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUT 3.

when the cattle stampeded, and the roundup 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 pale-
face, and a dozen of them have been known to hold their own
against as many white men.

Some twenty miles west of Fort Kearney a halt was made
for dinner at the bank of a creek that emptied into the Platte
River. No signs of Indians had been come upon, and there
was no thought of special danger; but, as was the custom,
three men were on guard. Many of the trainmen were asleep
under the wagons while waiting dinner, and Will was watch-
ing 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 blood-chilling 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

i wholly by surprise, they lined up swiftly in battle array be-

1 hind the wagons, with the bosses, Bill and Frank McCarthy,

at their head, and the "boy extra" under the wing 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,

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 31

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 infernal accompaniment of whoops and 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 Kearney 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 peril-
ous 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 debouched upon
the Platte River, and 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 com-
panions. The moon came out and silvered tree and river, but

32 I*AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 and 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 Kearney
with the dawn. The wounded men were left at the post, while

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 33

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 I^eavenworth, their occupation gone. The gov-
ernment held itself responsible for the depredations of its
wards, and the loss of the wagons and cattle was assumed at
Washington.

CHAPTER VI.

THE LAWSUIT — LAWYER DOUGLASS'S PLEA — ARRIVAL OP THE
MISSING WITNESS — SISTER MARTHA'S WEDDING — THE
GERM OF THE WILD WEST SHOW — AN EXPERIENCE WITH
HARD CIDER — OFF FOR FORT BRIDGER — RAIDED BY
DANITES — WINTER QUARTERS AND SHORT RATIONS.

HE fame to which Byron woke,
one historic morning, was no
more unexpected to him than
that which now greeted un-
assuming Will with warlike
laurels. The trainmen had
not been over-modest in their
accounts of his pluck, and
when a newspaper reporter
lent the magic of his gifted
imagination to the plain nar-
rative it became quite a story.
"The Boy Indian Slayer;"
thus ran the headlines. " 'Tis
pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print."

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 enterpris-
ing 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;
34

I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 35

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 peg — 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 whereabouts 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 curios-
ity 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 inexperi-
enced 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

36 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

period the missing witness, Mr. Barnhart, hurried into the
court room. He had started for Leaven worth upon the first
intimation that his presence there was needed, and had
reached it just in time. He took the stand, swore to his cer-
tain 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 Mar-
tha'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, as is so oft unhappily the case, had fallen on a man un-
worthy of her. Of his antecedents we knew nothing ; of his
present being little more, save that he was fair in appearance
and seemingly prosperous. In the sanction of the union Will
alone had 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 cordially that he refused to be a witness of the
nuptials. This dislike we attributed to jealousy, as brother
and sister worshipped each other, but the sequel proved a sad
corroboration of his views.

Nature seemed to join her protest to Will's silent antagon-
ism. A terrific thunderstorm came up with the noon hour of
the wedding. So deep and sullen were the clouds that we
were obliged to light the candles, the fashionable illuminant
of the period. And when the wedding pair took their places
before Hymen's altar, a crash of thunder rocked the house
and set the casements jingling.

The couple had their home awaiting them in Leavenworth,
and departed almost immediately after the ceremony.

I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 37

That reader will be wrong who thinks that the cares and
responsibilities laid upon our brother's shoulders had quenched
his boyish spirits and love of fun. Ever mindful of her chil-
dren's needs, mother had set aside as a playroom one apart-
ment in the large log house, though for our toys we were com-
pelled to exert our ingenuity, and therefore enjoyed them all
the more. We made our own dolls, fashioned our own small
furniture, and built our own doll mansions. Will was a great
tease, and he delighted to invade the playroom when the dolls
were set in order for the night, and play havoc with our
maternal ideas of arrangement. Some greeted the morning
light in kneeling posture by the bed, others stood upon their
heads in most dejected attitudes, still others stood in pugilistic
poses. Taken to task for these indignities, Will would flee in
seeming fright, and hide from our wrath. It was in this play-
room that the germ of his Wild West Show took life.

He never tired of enacting scenes of frontier life, based upon
the experience of his first freighting trip. We girls person-
ated, first one and then another, stage-drivers, passengers,
outlaws, Indians and soldiers, to the presumed edification of
an imaginary audience. In these performances we were do-
cility itself, but when Will informed us that he purposed some
day organizing a big show that should enable Kastern folk to
appreciate the rugged life of the frontier, we laughed at him.
No one, said we, would care to witness such a performance;
besides, there was his destiny in the way. How could the
President of the United States run a show ?

' ' How could that fortune-teller know what I am 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 !"

At this we would run crying to mother. 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 !

38 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

"Don't he have to be?" we would sob; and mother,
smoothing our hair, would return some comforting assurance.

In spite of Will's fine scorn of fortune-tellers, the prophecy
concerning his future must have been often 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 pair 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 harm-
less drink, took all they desired — much more than they could
carry. They were in a deplorable condition when Mr. Hatha-
way 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 ad-
miring 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.

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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 39

the Mormons in the fall of '57. 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.

The second parting with the dear ones at home was as poig-
nant as the first. We girls, as before, were loud in our wail-
ings, 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 admir-
ation of little Charlie, to whom " Brother Will" was the great-
est hero in the world. Perhaps Turk's grief at the parting
was not a whit behind ours ; but the faithful old fellow seemed
to realize that in Will's absence the duty of the family pro-
tector devolved on him, and he made no attempt to follow Will
beyond the gate.

The train made good progress, and more than half the jour-
ney 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 Mor-
mon 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 j*ear, though
the wily ' * Saints ' ' had planned to place the odium of an un-
provoked murder of innocent women and children upon the
Indians, who, heaven knows, had enough to answer for, and
who, 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 cf
Henry VIII. a —*

40 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

"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. I^ee 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 stam-
peded the cattle and burned the wagons. The trainmen were
permitted to retain one wagon and team, with just enough sup-
plies to last them to army headquarters.

It was a disheartened, discomfited band that reached Fort
Bridger. The information that two other trains had been de-
stroyed 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.

CHAPTER VII.

HEMMED IN BY INDIANS — THE DEAD-MULE BARRICADE — A
DREAM THAT SAVED THREE LIVES — SISTER MARTHA'S
DEATH — WILL GOES TO SCHOOL — TURK'S RESCUE OF HIS
MASTER — THE FIGHT WITH STEVE GOBEL — OFF FOR THE
PLAINS AGAIN.

T was an irksome Winter.
The men at the Fort hauled
their firewood two miles ; as
the supplies dwindled, one by
one the oxen were slaught-
ered, and when this food sup-
ply was exhausted, starvation
reared its gaunt form. Hap-
pily the freighters got word of
the situation, and a large sup-
ply team reached the fort before
the spring was fairly opened.
As soon as practicable the
return journey was under-
taken. At Fort Laramie two large trains were put in charge
of Lew Simpson, as brigade wagon-master, and Will was in-
stalled as courier between the two caravans, which traveled
twenty miles apart — plenty of elbow room for camping and for-
aging.

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

42 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

from a clump of trees half a mile away and sweep toward
them. Flight with the mules was useless ; resistance prom-
ised 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. Simp-
son's coolness steadied the lad, who realized that the situation
was desperate.

The Indians came on with the rush and the scream of the
March wind. ' ' Fire ! ' ' said Simpson, and three ponies
emptied their saddles 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."

11 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, sup-
posing they had drawn the total fire of the whites. A revolver
fusilade 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."

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 43

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 fir-
ing under them. With a touch of the grim humor that plain
life breeds, Will declared that the mules were veritable pin-
cushions, 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 dis-
closed. 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 pick-
eted and camps pitched; night fell and the stars shot out, and
the red man watched his prey.

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 Simp-
son 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.

44 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 rein-
forcements— coming surely, but on what heavy and slow-turn-
ing 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 as-
sumed that Simpson and his companions were straggling mem-
bers 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 foot-hills, 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 bull-whips.

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, as
our home was on the L,eavenworth trail. 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

I.AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 45

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. Crane's creditors, who, angered
at a refusal to liquidate a debt, accused Mr. Crane 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, al-
ready crushed by neglect and cruelty. She fell to the floor,
and her husband hastily put her to bed and summoned help,
but she spoke not another conscious word until just before her
death. All the night she was delirious, and her one thought
was "Willie," and the danger he was in — not alone the phy-
sical 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 the 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 Un-
known 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. Crane had moved from I^eavenworth to Johnson County,
twenty-five miles away, and as there were neither telegraph
nor mail facilities, he had the body sent home, himself accom-
panying 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.

46 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

All of the family, Mr. Crane included, were gathered in tht
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 pre-
pared 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 unflinch-
ing through two Indian fights, broke down and sobbed with
the rest of us.

"Did that rascal Crane 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.
Crane was the kindest of husbands and was crushed with sor-
row at his loss; but spite of the assurance, Will, when he
reached the house, had neither look nor word for Mr. Crane.
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 him-
self, stepped up before Mr. Crane.

" 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. Ma jors'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

I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 47

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, in truth; but he 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 old-fashioned sort. He taught
because he had to live. He had no love for his work, and knew
nothing of children. Hence Will's school days were neither as
pleasant nor profitable as we had hoped.

Turk, who accompanied his master everywhere, was also
seized with educational ambition. We tried to drive him home,
but he followed at a distance, and as we entered the school-
house he emerged from the shrubbery by the roadside and crept
under the building.

Alas for the scholars, and alas for the school ! Another am-
bitious 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, Distrac-
tion, Uglification and Derision" of the Mock Turtle in "Alice
in Wonderland.'*

Turk effected an unexpected rescue. Snarls were heard be-
neath 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, " Bat him up, Turk! Bat 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.

48 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

Of the twisting, yelping bundle of dogflesh 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 be-
cause 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 battleground. 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 ses-
sion was resumed.

But Gobel nursed his wrath and displayed his enmity in a
thousand small ways. Will paid no attention to him, but buck-
led down to his school work. Will was a born "lady's man,"
and when Miss Jessie Kane complicated the feud 'twixt him
and Steve, it hurried to its climax. Jessie was older than
Will, but she plainly showed her preference for him over Mas-
ter 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 become 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 dex-
terous 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 49

" 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 awe-stricken 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 Rus-
sell, Majors & Waddell, and a great friend of the "boy
extra's." 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 ' ' L,ittle Billy ' ' should fight against the peda-
gogue 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,
the teacher fled, and 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,

5* LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 arter you, and gittin' you, are two different
things," said the wagon-master. " I4e 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 anyone. "

Will disavowed any homicidal intentions; but his explana-
tions 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.

THE VALLEY GROVE HOUSE — A TRAPPING EXPEDITION AND
A BRUSH WITH INDIANS — A CAVE OF HORRORS — THE DEATH

AND BURIAL OF TURK — A MILD ATTACK OF GOLD FEVER —
WILL AS A PONY EXPRESS RIDER.

HIS trip of Will's covered
only two months, and was
without adventure — stirring
or otherwise. It was suc-
ceeded by another uneventful
expedition with a boss named
Buck Bonier to the new post
at Fort Wallace, at Cheyenne
Pass.

Meantime mother had de-
cided to improve the oppor-
tunity afforded by her geogra-
phical position, and under her
supervision ' ' The Valley
Grove House" was going up. This hotel was purchased,
some years after mother's death, by Dr. J. J. Crook, and
burned while in his possession. Its ruins may be seen in Salt
Creek Valley to this day.

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 itspebbly
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

52 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 hill-top lay the grove that gave the
hotel its name. Government hill, which broke the eastern
sky-line, hid Leavenworth and the Missouri River, culminat-
ing 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 ven-
ture. 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 always slow progress of a wagon train be-
came a very snail 'space, and the hotel was insured a full quota
of hungry trainmen.

Will found that his wages were a very considerable aid to
mother in the large expense incurred by the building of the
hotel, and the winter drawing on, forbidding further freight-
ing 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, and this, 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 for-
ward 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.

LAST OP THE GREAT SCOUTS. 53

1 ' 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 lyaramie. Will re-
alized a handsome sum from the sale of his captured furs, be-
sides 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.

The youngest of the party, Will was likewise the most ex-
perienced 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 danc-
ing firelight, and after one look he gave a yell of terror,
dropped his firewood and fled .

54 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

Will and the other chap were on their knees instantly, grop-
ing for their rifles, in the belief that the Indians were upon
them ; but the sight that met their eyes was more terror-breed-
ing at the first contact than the sight of a thousand Indians.
A dozen bleached and ghastly skeletons were gathered with
them around the campfire, 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 un-
pleasant 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. It won't hurt us. I^et'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, having visited father's grave on the way,
reached home without further adventure or misadventure.
Here there was compensation for hardship in the joy of hand-
ing 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 sum-

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 55

mer that came on was a sad one for us all, for it marked
Turk's last days on earth.

It was August, and as evening drew on the family repaired
to the veranda to enjoy the cooling breeze. Turk lay in the
yard. A strange dog came up the road, ran into the yard to
give 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 3'ears, had grown as dear to us as
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, alas! it speedily be-
came plain that the poison was working in his veins, and that
the greatest kindness we could do him was to kill him.

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.

The mournful duty discharged, we assembled in solemn
conclave to plan the obsequies. Wiil procured a large block
of the red bloodstone which abounded in that country, squared
it off, and carved the name Turk upon it in large letters. Then
a grave was dug, and to it we consigned, with many tears, the
body of our faithful friend. Will, who called me "The little
Preacher," asked that I repeat the Lord's Prayer. This com-
pleted the service. We filled up the grave, placed the blood-
stone at its head, and returned home.

To us there had been no incongruity in the funeral cere-
monials and burial. Turk had given us all that dog could

56 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 staunch 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 edu-
cational 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 twitter-
ing 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 height in 1860. By our
house had passed the historic wagon bearing on its side the

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 57

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 elo-
quent 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 strange that mother
should dread to see him again leave home to face unknown
perils; and it is not at all remarkable that upon reaching Aura-
ria, 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 excite-
ment 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 min-
ing methods is indispensable.

But Will never reached the gold fields. Almost the first
person he met on the streets of Julesberg was George Chris-
man, 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 run-
ning a daily stage-coach from the Missouri River to Sacra-
mento, and he urged upon Mr. Russell the desirability of the
firm 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.

58 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 expec-
tation of profit. They utilized the stage-coach 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 aver-
age 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. Betters 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 aver-
age trip was made in nine. The distance covered in this time
was nineteen hundred and sixty- six miles.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 59

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 Kxpress 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 Ex-
press line had outlived its usefulness, and was at once discon-
tinued. 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 afterward traveled nearly the same old
trails as that 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 third of April, 1860, Mr. Russell stood ready to receive
the mail from a fast New York train at St. Joseph. He ad-
justed the letter pouch on the pony in the presence of an ex-
cited 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

60 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

start on the novel journey, and preserved these hairs as talis-
mans. 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 saddle bags. 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.

THE PONY EXPRESS IS "HELD UP " — ANOTHER TRAPPING
EXPEDITION: — FIGHT WITH A BEAR — A BROKEN LEG —
ALONE IN THE DUG-OUT — AN INDIAN VISIT, AND A
TOUCH OF AULD LANG SYNE — A DESPERATE SITUATION
— AN ELEVENTH-HOUR RESCUE — HOME AGAIN — DEATH
OF DAVE PHILLIPS.

FTER 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 way-
farer through that wild land
was as like to run afoul of out-
laws and Indians as 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 ! "

61

62 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS.

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 saddle-bags, 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 he tied up his broken head. The prisoner must have
a horse hidden hard by, and a bit of a search disclosed it. When
Will 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 to the next
station. Here the prisoner was left with the stock-tender, and
the Pony Express rider was off again, trying to make up for
lost time.

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 on the high road to
recovery, over the rough places of which she passed swiftly
with the support of his presence. For three weeks was he con-
tent to remain idly at home; then (it was November of 1860)

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 63

his unquiet spirit bore him away on another trapping expedi-
tion ; 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 Leaven worth, 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 cor-
rect; 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 side hill 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 pro-
tected 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 bel-
lowing in terror, one of them dashing crazily about the en-
closure, 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

64 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 some time."

"That's the first bear I ever killed," said Will, more inter-
ested 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 fort-
night later. They were chasing a bunch of elk, when Will
fell, and discovered that he could not rise.

4 '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 side-hill 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 ship shape, piled wood in

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 65

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 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 dis-
tance; 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, squeez-
ing 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 Ix>'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

66 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 I/ang Syne he would spare the pale-face
boy.

Auld I^ang 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 mo-
mentarily ; 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 dug-
out ? Had he perished in the storm ? Had he fallen victim to
Indians ? These and like questions haunted the poor lad con-
tinually. 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 pas-
sage 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 67

"I told you my time would come," said Phillips. ''We
can call it quits."

"Shooting a bear is sport," answered Will, "but you
have dug through snowdrifts, endured suffering and risked
your life to help me. I'm in your debt, and always shall be."

Dave's comment was to prepare a square meal, which was
mutually relished, and during its discussion the boys com-
pared notes. When Will reached the incident of the Indian
raid Dave cried excitedty, "Bid they steal our pelts?" and
rushed from the dugout, but the pelts were safe where they
had been hidden.

Such slow and laborious traveling was promised by the deep
snow that the boys concluded to remain in camp until winter
broke. Dave attended to the traps while Will hobbled about in-
doors and did the cooking. The broken leg was nearly
mended when the weather suffered them to depart for home.

They paid for the hired ox in skins at the ranch that Dave
had visited, and pushing on to Junction City, they sold their
entire outfit, pelts included, for a good price. Then they
joined a wagon train and were soon at home.

Will had become so attached to Phillips that, at his instance,
mother asked the young man to remain with us as overseer of
the farm. He consented willingly, but the winter's roughing
it had been too great a draft upon his vitality. A cold set-
tled on his lungs and developed into pneumonia, and after an
illness of five days, in which he was nursed as one of the fam-
ily, he died. Will's sorrow was intense, and the whole house-
hold was shadowed by the sudden death. We had adopted
Will's friend as our own, and his remains were placed in our
family burying ground.

CHAPTER X.

ECHOES FROM SUMTER — A STATION ON THE UNDERGROUND
RAILWAY — UNCLE TOM AND HIS SUFFERINGS — WILL DROPS
HIS FIRST BUFFALO, AND SAVES A LIFE — WITH THE PONY
EXPRESS AGAIN — CALIFORNIA JOE — INDIAN TROUBLES —
WILD

| HE guns that opened on Fort
Sumter set the country all
ablaze. In Kansas, where
blood had already been shed,
the excitement was at an ex-
traordinary pitch. Will was
for enlisting, but mother would
not listen to the idea.

My brother had never for-
gotten the vow made over
father's prostrate form, to
wreak vengeance upon his
murderer and the men who had
hounded him to his grave, and
when the vow chafed his spirit
mother would expostulate with
him, and point out that 'twere murder to take their lives, what-
ever the provocation. But now, with the coming of war, his
opportunity was seemingly ripe and lawful ; he could at least
take up arms against his 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 plead-
ing, 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
68

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 69

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 somewhat of the horrors of slavery. Suffer-
ing makes one wondrous kind ; mother had suffered so much
herself that the misery of others ever vibrated a chord of sym-
pathy 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, always giving him work that could be done privately.
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 acccustomed place sur-
rounded 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

70 LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS.

slavery was the open door it left for brutality and inhumanity,
and never shall I forget the barbarity divSplayed 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 hear-
ing, 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 inhu-
manity 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 lyaramie. 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 before a monster buffalo was
seen rushing upon the camp. A chorus of yells and a fusilade
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 re-
turning in the track selected by the buffalo. Too terrified to
move, she watched, with white face and parted lips, the mad-
dened animal sweep toward her, head down and tail up, its
hoofs beating a thunderous tattoo on the plain.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 71

Will had been asleep, but the commotion brought him to his
feet, and snatching up his rifle he ran toward the little girl.
The hope aroused in the camp by this action vanished as Will
swerved to one side. But the move was to enable him to take
aim at the forehead of the buffalo. All buffalo hunters know
that the only vulnerable point of the monarch of the prairie is
a little spot between the eyes. Will, who was running, sud-
denly turned, brought up his rifle, and fired. The buffalo
lurched, staggered a few yards farther, then dropped within
half 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, who had swooned. When she recovered
consciousness, Mrs. Perkins and her husband were voluble
in their thanks and admiration. Will never relished hearing
his praises sung, and as the camp was determined to pedestal
him as a hero, ran away and hid in his tent.

Upon reaching Fort I^aramie 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 divi-
sion?"

" 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.

72 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 remark-
able frontier character. He was standing beside a group of
boulders that edged the trail when Will first clapped eyes on
him, and the Pony Expressman instantly reached for his re-
volver. 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, some-
what 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 misunder-
standing 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-bye, 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 73

Overland trail. He received a cordial greeting, and was as-
sured by the men that they had not expected to see him alive
again. In return he told them his story, and a very interest-
ing 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 followme
until I struck the mine, then do me up and take possession.

"The gold is there, too, lots of it. There's silver, iron, cop-
per 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.

74 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

" 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 acquaint-
ances 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 tow-
ering 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 ex-
changed 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 boulder 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 boulder. Two braves
in gorgeous war paint sprang up, and at the same time a score

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 75

of whooping Indians rode out of the 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 boulder 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
fora 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 Flow-
ers, 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 or-
ganized 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's 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 in-
herited 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.

THE WORK OF THE "BLACK WATER," AND THE RETRIBUTION —
A SHORT BUT DASHING INDIAN CAMPAIGN — A BEAR HUNT
WITHOUT A BEA R— IN A DEN OF HORSE THIEVES— WHAT
CAME OF PICKING UP SAGE HENS — GOVERNMENT FREIGHT-
ING.

S Will was one of the laid -off
riders he was allowed to join
the expedition against the In-
dian depredators, though he
was the youngest member of
the company by perhaps twice
his years.

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 tribu-
tary 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 came and settled. He bought the red man's furs and
gave him in return bright colored beads, and pieces of calico,
and paints, and blankets. In a short time he had all the furs
in the village ; he packed them on ponies and said good-bye to
76

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 77

his Indian friends. They were sorry to see him go, but he told
them he would soon return from the land of the pale-face bring-
ing 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 in-
truder. 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 the tribe were sorely perplexed. Another council of war

78 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 po-
sition 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 pale-face,
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 whirl-
wind. He was scalped before the eyes of his horrified wife, and

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 79

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 unfor-
tunate 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 hunt-
ing 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 indi-
cated 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 look-
out 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 corcpany 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

8O LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 sally 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 mem-
ories of the trapping season of '6o-'6i, 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 adown 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 night-
fall found him and his quarry still many miles asunder, and, as

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 8 1

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 reconnaissance.

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. Re-
assured, 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 I,ew Simpson's train, and from his
knowledge of their long-standing weakness he assumed cor-
rectly that he had thrust his head into a den of horse thieves.

"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

82 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 oifer 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 horse thief 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 83

Will soon tired of this nondescript service, and gladly ac-
cepted 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 govern-
ment 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 — HER CHARGE TO THE WRITER

— LAST MESSAGE FOR WILL AND JULIA — HER DEATH.

T 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 old-
est sister, Julia, had been
married, the spring preceding,
to Mr. J. A. Goodman, but
. they remained in the old home
because of mother's failing
health.

Seeing her from day to day,
we had not remarked the
changes in her gradual dis-
solution, but Will was much shocked by the transformation
that a few months had wrought. So frail and delicate had she
been for years it seemed impossible her hold on life could
weaker grow. 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 had reached home none too soon, for shortly after the
doctor advised mother that only a few hours were left to her,
and if she had any last messages, it were best that she com-
municate them at once. And so that evening, when the time
came round, it was a sad good night that was exchanged, the
younger children being called in one by one to receive the
parting blessing and injunction.
84

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 85

Mother's was an earnest Christian character, but at that
time, of all the children I alone appeared religiously disposed,
therefore her anxiety was keen. Young as I was, the solem-
nity 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.

" Death has no sting," she said, " that is not swallowed up
in victory — the glorious victory purchased with a Saviour's
blood. Do not weep for me, my child; rejoice, rather, that I
have gone where I shall no longer suffer. There I shall wait
for my children; do not let me, Nellie, wait in vain. See to
it that there shall be not one missing from the final gathering
above. My greatest anxiety is for Willie. With a mother's
keen insight I see a lurking enemy that would destroy my
son. The one earthly foe I fear for him is the evil that is
licensed by the law of our land, and countenanced and upheld
by those with whom he will come in contact. In the wine cup
and its debasing influences he may find a power stronger than
his own will.

' ' Let your sisterly influence be used in every possible way
to save him from this blighting curse. You can do little of
yourself to guard against the alluring temptations which will
beset him in every walk of life. But be faithful in your in-
tercessions for him before the Throne of Grace. To Him, who
is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask
or think, we must look for strength to overcome this mighty
force of the destroyer, that will assail our loved one. The veil
was lifted when your sister Martha died — lifted long enough
that she might pierce the mysteries of the Great Beyond. She
left for us the assurance that Willie would be among the saved:
thus I die in the glad belief that in God's own good time, the
name of my well-beloved son will be written down by the Re-
cording Angel in the Lamb's Book of Life. Never cease your
efforts in behalf of your brothers and sisters. Remember al-

86 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

ways that their spiritual well-being was your mother's last
charge to you. I have loved them, I have prayed for them ; to
you is bequeathed the work I have left unfinished. Be faith-
ful to the trust."

As if she were setting forth upon a pleasant journey, she
bade me good-bye, and I kissed her for the last time on earth.
When next I saw her face it was cold and quiet, the beautiful
soul had forsaken its dwelling-place of clay, and had followed
Martha's 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.

After mother's farewell charge to May we were all sent to
bed, only Julia and Will remaining with the dying saint
throughout the night. As is commonly the case with consump-
tives, there came to her just before her death a brief season of
long-lost animation, the last flicker of the torch before dark-
ness. To these older children she talked almost continuously
until the dawn. Into their hands was given the task of edu-
cating the others of the family, and on their hearts and con-
sciences the charge was graven. Charlie, who was born dur-
ing 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 liv-
ing, 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 predictions of the for-
tune-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. Re-
member 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 always. In

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 87

the hour of need you aided me to save the estate of the family ;
therefore, I can leave you freed of anxiety over financial
troubles, for with prudence there is enough property to render
each child comfortable. Julia, I know, will exercise a mother's
care over the little ones, and I have appointed her husband
guardian of the estate.

* ' I have not wished you to enlist in the war, partly because
I knew you were too young, partly because my life was draw-
ing 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 !

t
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 !

CHAPTER XIII.

A FRONTIER FUNERAL — OFF TO THE WAR — WILL AS DISPATCH
BEARER — AN AMBUSCADE THAT FAILED — DEATH OF ED
NORCROSS — AN ECONOMICAL ADMINISTRATOR AND A LES-
SON IN ECONOMY — WILL REPORTS FOR "SECRET SERVICE"
— A PERILOUS MISSION.

HE morning of the 22d of
ember, 1863, began the saddest
day of our lives. When father
died most of the children were
too young to realize how great
was their loss ; and then, we
had mother left to comfort us.
Now, bereft of both father and
mother, the future looked
blank and desolate.

In frontier days, the splen-
did trappings by which grief
in these times seeks to ease its
burden, were lacking. We

.had no other vehicle large enough to convey us all to the ceme-
tery, so we rode in the lumber wagon. It was a long, cold,
hard ride to Pilot Knob from our house, but we wished our
parents to be united in death as they had been in life. Only
those who have heard the clods fall upon their nearest and
dearest can appreciate our desolation of heart that raw Novem-
ber day.

We know our parents were buried on the summit of Pilot
Knob hill. Further than that we know nothing. Whether
because of the spite of enemies, the carelessness of those
88

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 89

in authority, or of war's inevitable havoc, their graves to-
day are unknown, unhonored and unmarked. Every effort
was made to locate them exactly ; high officials in Kansas de-
sired to honor the first victim in the struggle for human liberty
in that state, but all search has proven unavailing.

The road leading from the cemetery forked a short distance
outside of I^eavenworth, one branch running to that city, the
other winding homeward along Government Hill. When we
reached the fork Will jumped out of the wagon.

"I can't go home when I know mother is no longer there,"
said he. "lam going to L,eavenworth to see Eugene Hatha-
way. 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. In our imaginations,
it was a foregone conclusion that the next act in the drama
would be the bringing home of his lifeless, bullet-riddled body,
and great was our lamentation. Among other things we threat-
ened to inform the recruiting officers that he was not yet eigh-
teen ; 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-bye ; then he 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 counter-
manded, and he remained for a time in Fort Leavenworth.
His western experiences were well known there, and probably

90 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

for this reason, he was selected as a bearer of military dis-
patches to Fort learned. 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 am-
buscade 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 nearedthe
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 advan-
tage of the shelter afforded by the bank, screening himself be-
hind 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.

4 '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

I, AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 91

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 al-
ready 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, mor-
tally hurt, as it afterwards proved, be able to long maintain
the fierce pace he had set ? Mile upon mile was put behind be-
fore 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
Learned.

After a few hours' breathing spell, he left for Fort Leaven-
worth 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 he had fired
at. He entered the cabin.

92 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

' ' 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
iloor.

11 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 re-
arranged the blanket that served as a pillow; then he offered to
dress the neglected wound. But the grey 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 re-
mainder of his journey.

As he neared L,eavenworth he met the friend that had con-
veyed the dead man's warning message, and to him he com-
mitted the task of bringing home the body. His heaviness of
spirit was scarcely mitigated by the congratulations of the

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 93

commander of Fort L,eaven worth upon his pluck and re-
sources, 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 Leaven worth. 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 calf-skin shoes. To this 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 approaching
womanhood, 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 con-
tained 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 mat-
ter, and we were much comforted by the receipt of the follow-
ing letter:

94 LAST OF THR GREAT SCOUTS.

' ' MY DEAR SISTERS :

1 ' 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 meantime I will
write to Al.

lovingly, Wiu<."

We were comforted, yes; but my last hope was gone, and }
grew desperate. I had never worn the obnoxious shoes pur-
chased 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 purchasing of calf-skin shoes for at least one of his charges.
And 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 Mis-
sissippi. The Seventh Kansas regiment, known as " Jenni-
son's Jayhawkers," was reorganized at Fort I^eavenworth 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 exceed-
ingly desirous of engaging in a great battle, and through
some officers with whom he was acquainted preferred a peti-
tion 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 ambi-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 95

tious 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 infor-
mation concerning the enemy's movements and position. This
can only be done by entering the Confederate camp, a line of
action, as you are aware, fraught with great danger. 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 care-
fully. 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 some-
what 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 planta-
tion to plantation.

Only the day before, while on a reconnaissance, Will had
captured a Confederate soidier, who proved to be an old ?.'.

96 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

quaintance, 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 Bast, became in-
fected 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 pris-
oner, 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 any-
way, so I might as well give them up now and save my neck."

Examination showed them to be accurate maps of the loca-
tion and position of the Union army, and besides the maps,
there were papers containing much valuable information con-
cerning 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 re-
ported for final instructions, therefore, at General Smith's
tent, in the evening, Will said to him :

1 ' I gathered from a statement dropped by the prisoner cap-
tured yesterday, that a Confederate spy has succeeded in mak-
ing out and carrying to the enemy a complete map of the
position of our regiment, together with some idea of the pro-
jected plan of campaign."

I.AST OF THE GREAT SQOUTS. 97

" 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-bye, 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 XIV.

THE ROtE OF A SPY — IN THE LION'S DEN — A RIDE FOR LIFE—
INDIAN TROUBLE ON THE OLD SANTE FE TRAIL — WILL'S
FIRST BIG BATTLE — WILD BILL AGAIN — BREAD CAST UPON
THE WATERS — COLONEL HICKOK'S DARING DASH.

N common walks of life to
play the spy is an ignoble role ;
in war it is one the noblest of
men must sometimes play,
however ungrateful the com-
mission may be.

On the battlefield, even the
timid spirit is nerved to forti-
tude— sometimes to reckless
daring — by the elbow touch of
comrades and the fierce exhil-
aration of the combat when
once the action is begun. For
the hour he forgets that he is
a man, with mother, wife, or sweetheart waiting for him at
home. He is an animal — a noble animal — fighting with the
ferocity of the tiger that has scented blood. What if he falls ?
There is a comrade by to listen to the last message, to wet his
parched lips with water, to tell him that the enemy flees, to
inspire him — in a rough way, if he cannot voice the sentiment
in more exalted phrases — with the sublime thought that

' ' The fittest place where man can die
Is where he dies for man. "

All that is asked of the soldier on the firing line is to present
his face to the foe, stand firm, and obey orders. If he lives he
98

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 99

marches home under flying banners, to the stirring music of
the " ear-piercing fife "; if he falls it is a soldier's death, and
he has a soldier's burial.

How different the lot of the spy ! He goes alone to meet
danger half way, his cheek burning from the thought that for
the nonce he wears a uniform that he abhors, and that he must
gain the good-will of his fellow-man only to betray him. He
must have nerve, address, a nimble wit, and unlimited confi-
dence in himself. A false word, a changing expression of the
eye, the slightest intimation that he is aught except what he
pretends to be, the least weakening of the tension at which his
nerves are set, and a few yards of rope and a shallow trench
await him. No elbow touch of comrades, no one to take the
last message, no sublimer thought in the last moment than
that he has done his duty. If his foe be compassionate, he
may secure the privilege of being shot rather than hanged. In
any case it is a short shrift before eternity.

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 riae a mad race with Death at the horse's flank
every mile of the way. These be the unknown heroes of every
war.

It was with a full realization of the dangers confronting him
that my hero cantered away from the Union lines, his bor-
rowed uniform under his arm. As soon as he had put the out-
posts behind him, he dismounted and exchanged the blue
clothes for the grey. L,ife 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 clear
brown 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

100 I^AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 busi-
ness. 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. IOI

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.

1 ' These are important papers, ' ' said he, when he had run
Kis 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. ' '

11 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 rearrange-
ment 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.

tO2 tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

Two days went by. In them Will picked up valuable infor-
mation here and there, drew maps, and was prepared to de-
part 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, scout-
ing was a drug in the general's market, for the close of an-
other day found Will impatiently awaiting orders in the cour-
iers' 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 headquar-
ters, 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 un-
wittingly 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.

The same sergeant that greeted him when he entered the
lines chanced to be on duty, and of him Will asked an unim-
portant 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

XAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 103

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 m 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 Anderson-
ville or I^ibby 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 acquaint-
ance, but for the present he made one of the triplicate target
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 en-
sued, but he esteemed it his first duty to deliver the papers he
had risked his life to obtain; so, leaving friend and foe to set-
tle the dispute as best they might, he put for the clump of
trees where he had hidden his uniform, and exchanged it for

104 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

the grey that had served its purpose and was no longer endur-
able. Under his true colors he rode into camp.

General Forrest almost immediately withdrew from that
neighborhood, and after the atrocious massacre at Fort Pil-
low, on the 1 2th 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 Sante Fe trail that troops were needed to
protect the stage-coaches, 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 Arapa-
hoes, 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 105

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 some-
thing 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. ' ' Accord-
ingly, 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 smouldering for two
years in the red man's breast now burst forth with volcanic
fury. Hundreds of atrocious murders followed, with whole-
sale 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 learned, 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, num-

106 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

bering 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 re-
ceived an order countermanding the other and remained in
Missouri, joining forces with Rosecrans to oppose Price. Rose-
crans's entire force still only numbered u,coo, and he deemed
it prudent to concentrate his army around St. Louis. General
Kwing's forces and a portion of General Smith's command oc-
cupied 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, however, was commanded by Shepard
Mountain, which the Confederates occupied, and their well-
directed fire obliged General Ewing to fall back to Harrison
Station, where he made a stand, and some sharp fighting fol-
lowed. General Ewing again fell back and succeeded in reach-
ing 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 that 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 — his aim was careful — that laid
them low, from that day on he accounted himself freed of his
melancholy obligation.

After several hard-fought battles Price withdrew from Mis-
souri 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 quar-
ters. The worth of the tried veterans was known, but none

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 107

df the older men were in more demand than Will. His was
seemingly a charmed life. Often was he detailed to bear dis-
patches across the battlefield, and though horses were shot
under him — riddled by bullets or torn by shells — 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 salu-
tation :

" Well, Billy, my boy, how are you ? "

He looked around to see a hand outstretched from a coat-
sleeve of Confederate grey, and as he knew Wild Bill to be a
staunch Unionist, he surmised that he was engaged upon an
enterprise similar to his own. There was an exchange of
chaffing about grey 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 Con-
federate camp. ' '

" Don't take too many chances, " cautioned Will, well know-
ing 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:

" Practise 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 host's re-
fusal 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 infor-

108 LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS.

mation 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 lion's den in the op-
posing 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 :

11 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 infor-
mation he brought proved of great value in the battle of Pilot
Knob (already referred to), which almost immediately
followed.

CHAPTER XV.

A ST. LOUIS DETAIL — THE FAIR EQUESTRIENNE — A RESCUE
AND A BETROTHAL— THE OVERLAND STAGE ROUTE —
WILL AS A DRIVER — ANOTHER RACE FOR LIFE — TURN

ABOUT AT "HOLDING UP" is FAIR PLAY.

OT long after the battle of Pilot
Knob Will was assigned to spe-
cial service at military head-
quarters in St. Ixniis. From
girlhood to the time of her
death mother had maintained a
correspondence with one of her
schoolmates, who became the
wife of General Polk, and when
the general's wife learned that
a son of her old friend was in
the Union army, she used her
influence to obtain an excellent position for him. Will was
not wholly pleased. His new duties lacked excitement and
the spice of danger that long had flavored his existence. Yet
his St. L,ouis detail proved an important turning point in his
life, for he made the acquaintance of the lady who afterward
became his wife.

More than once, while out for a morning canter, he had re-
marked a young woman of attractive face and figure, who sat
her horse with the grace of Diana Vernon. Now few things
caugh his eye more quickly than fine horsemanship, whether
in man or woman, and his desire to establish an acquaintance
with this particular equestrienne was the stronger for the diffi-
culties that beset the path to such a favor, as none of his friends

109

IIO LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

knew her and the most formal introduction seemed hopelessly
remote. The only chance appeared to lie in a rescue. Such
things happen frequently in novels, indeed, it is a common way
of bringing the hero and heroine together, but this young lady
never seemed in need of rescue, or even of a warning against a
possible mishap. Her horse always behaved properly, and her
firm handling of him was extremely discouraging to a young
man tagging close behind, waiting for a runaway which, if it
were coming, was certainly taking its time about it.

Yet it did come. Fortune was kind. Fate one morning
broke a bridle, and even a lady centaur would be at a disadvan-
tage under such circumstances.

All the elements for a first-class rescue were present : horse
rushing madly down the street, lady clinging helplessly to his
back, precipice presumably a mile or two down the road, no
one but the hero around. The race was on.

From long association with it on the plains, Will had become
inseparable from his lariat, and it was the work of but half a
minute to coil it, send it whizzing through the air and drop it
neatly around the neck of the runaway horse, then, riding
alongside, he gradually tightened the noose until the half-
choked animal £ave up the struggle.

The other ingredients for the romance were promptly sup-
plied : lady unnerved by the strain, young man, hat in hand,
proffering escort, purely to oblige the lady, though he him-
self should be about some pressing business, smiles, thanks,
and — an introduction to the family.

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 they (the opportuni-
ties) were embraced when they did arise.

This was thirty-three years ago, and newspaper reporting
was not the exact science that it is to-day, but the runaway

LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. Ill

found its way into the next day's paper. The reporter was
not slow in learning that the young man with the lariat had
had many other adventures, but he got little satisfaction from
Will, who, not addicted to the amiable weakness of " blowing
his own horn," rather fancied he had headed off the news-
paper man. But he reckoned without Wild Bill. Colonel
Hickok was very willing to be interviewed, and he drew on
his memory for enough material to stuff the reporter's note-
book. So Will, not a little surprised, read all about himself
in the morning journal, and subsequently found himself some-
thing of a lion in the gay life of St. Louis city.

This prestige, needless to say, did not injure his chances of
winning Miss Louise Frederici, the heroine of the runaway,
and he became her accepted suitor before the war closed and
he received his honorable discharge.

The spring of '65 found him not yet twenty, and he was
sensible of the fact that before he could dance at his own wed-
ding 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 con-
genial employment.

First, there was the visit home, where the warmest of wel-
comes waited 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 sub-
ject, however, we had to inform him that we had read the
glowing story of his career in the St. Louis paper, and, as May
remarked, considered it a trifle overdrawn. For his part,
there was the story of the engagement to Miss Frederici to
tell, and, far from awaking jealousy, it 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."

112 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 Leaven -
worth to Fort Kearney, 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 divi-
sion 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. Question is,
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.

I 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 pro-
jected by Russell, Majors & Waddell. When gold was dis-
covered on Pike's Peak there was no method of traversing the
great Western plain except by plodding ox team, mule pack
or stage-coach. A semi-monthly stage line ran from St. Jos-
eph 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 113

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 ensure a daily run each wa}T.
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 pro-
nounced 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 Kearney, 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 employees, purchased horses, mules, harness and
food, and attended to their distribution at the different sta-
tions. He superintended the erection of all buildings, had
charge of the water supply, and he was the paymaster.

114 ^AST OIf THE GRBAT SCOUTS.

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-break-
ing. Passengers were allowed twenty-five pounds of baggage,
and that, with the mail, express and the passengers them-
selves, was in charge of the conductor.

The Overland stage-coaches were operated at a loss untif
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 Trot-
ter, 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 Kearney 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 115

Half of 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, ex-
pecting 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 head-dress 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 marks-
man would not have picked off an Indian with a rifle while
shooting from the top of a swinging, jerking stage-coach.

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.

Il6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

was there full five hundred yards before them. It was char-
acteristic of their driver that the horses were suffered to pause
at the creek long enough to get a swallow of water, then, re-
freshed, 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 oc-
casionally, 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 pow-
erful 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 pas-
sengers, 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 in-
terior 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 en-
gagement. 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 ex-
pressed when it was known that the reds were on the war-path;
it was not thought possible that it could get through unharmed,

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 117

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' 11 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, where-
by he was left alone, was a suspicious circumstance. He prop-
"crly decided that it would be wiser for him to hold up his pas-
sengers 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."

11 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
tie could do that he had a plan for farther on.

Il8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 fill-
ing was replaced and the hole smoothed to a natural appear-
ance.

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 willow that
bordered the road half a dozen men with menacing rifles
stepped out.

" Halt, or you're a dead man! " was the conventional salu-
tation, in this case graciously received.

1 ' 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 out-
raged 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, loth
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 ? ' '

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 119

" 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
Kearney. 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 waiting 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.

11 1 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 XVI.

THE WEDDING — WILL TURNS LANDLORD — FIRST EFFORT AS AN
INDIVIDUAL FREIGHTER, AND ITS DISASTROUS ENDING-
SCOUTING AT FORT FLETCHER — THE MEETING WITH
GENERAL CUSTER — THE MOUSE- COLORED MULE— A VOICE
IN THE NIGHT — " THE COLORED TROOPS FIGHT NOBLY "
— THE CITY OF ROME.

HEN Will reached home he
found another letter from Miss
Frederici, who, agreeably to
his request, had fixed the wed-
ding day, March 6, 1866.
This date was not far distant,
although of course each hour
between seemed an eternity.

The wedding ceremony was
quietly performed at the home
of the bride, and the large
number of friends that wit-
nessed it united in declaring
that a handsomer couple sel-
dom bows for Hymen's benediction.

The bridal journey was a trip to I^eavenworth 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;

I2O ^

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. m

even a wedding journey is not exempt from the baneful in-
fluence 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 conversa-
tion 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
Jayhavvkers ; 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 war-
fare, 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 river bank.

The roustabouts were just about to make the boat fast when
a party of armed horsemen dashed out of the woods and gal-
loped 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. Al-
ready the steamer was backing away from the shore, dragging

122 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 civilian's garb and Will knew
nothing of them, but when they heard of their comrade's pre-
dicament 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 afterwards 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 se-
cluded landing, and capture and carry off the young soldier. Will
feared that L,ouise might be somewhat disheartened by such
an occurrence on the bridal trip, but the welcome accorded the
young couple on their arrival at lyeavenworth 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.

Kntreated by L,ouise 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 pur-
chased 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

OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 123

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 the dimpled darling
had so wound himself around May's heartstrings that she
could not be enticed away, but there was never anybody that
could supplant Will in my heart, and 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 fellow-man 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 inn-keeper, while not without its
joys and opportunities to love one's fellow-man, is somewhat
prosaic, and our guests oftentimes remarked an absent, far-
away expression in the eyes of landlord Cody. He was think-
ing 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 I<ou and I cosily 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
o\vu 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.

124 LAST °* ™E GREAT SCOUTS.

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 condi-
tion. I was not yet sixteen, it would be two years and 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 prob-
lem from every side, and the lawyer suggested that Mr. Buck-
ley, 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 in-
dorsement.

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 & Wad-
dell.

Alas for enterprises started on borrowed capital ! How many
of them end in disaster, leaving their projectors not only pen-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 125

niless 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 cap-
tured 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 Junc-
tion City, and thither he tramped, in the hope of retrieving
his fortunes. There he met Colonel Hickok, and in the pleas-
ure 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 fellow-man 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 com-
mandant 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 be-
tween those points throughout the winter.

It was at Fort Fletcher, in the spring of '67, that he fell in
with the dashing General Custer, and the friendship estab-
lished 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

126 LAST OF THR GRKAT SCOUTS.

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 dis-
jovered 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, Cus-
ter'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 I/arned, 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 In-
dians 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 dis-
posed to regard the lowly steed in some disdain.

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 137

" Do you think, Cody, that mule can set the pace to reach
L,arned in a day? " he asked.

"When you get to learned, General," smiled Will, "the
mule and I will be with you. ' '

Ouster 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, Ouster'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 travel-
ing 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.

128 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

At just four o'clock the mouse-colored mule jogged into
Fort Lamed and waved a triumphant pair of ears. A short
distance behind rode Custer, on a thoroughly tired thorough-
bred, while the escort was strung along the trail for a mile
back.

"Cody," laughed the general, "that remarkable quad-
ruped 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 Ouster's intention to remain at Fort learned 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 Ouster's attention to signs denoting the nearby
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 investi-
gation. 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 campfire, when suddenly there
rang out upon the night air — not a rifle shot, but the un-
earthly 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

I, AST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS. 129

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 scat-
tered 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, stub-
bornly 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 learned 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 suffi-
ciently rested, adding with a smile:

13O tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

"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 attach-
ment."

Major Ames, 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 work-
men on the Kansas Pacific Railroad had been attacked by In-
dians, six of them killed, and over a hundred horses and mules
and a quantity of stores stolen.

The troops rode away at a swift pace, the colored boys pant-
ing for a chance at the redskins, and Major Ames 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 out-
numbered 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 Major Ames 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 major discovered that his re-
treat 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, whoop-

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

ing 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 ludi-
crous— a veritable stampede followed.

"Follow me ! " shouted Major Ames, 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.

Major Ames was somewhat chagrined that he had no prison-
ers, 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 forgot-
ten 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 secu-
rity against Indian raids. Will regarded the enterprise favor-
ably. 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.

132 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 Mr. Webb was not buying groceries. He chat-
ted 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 sug-
gestion 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 Kan-
sas.

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 L,eavenworth 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, IfOuis home. This was accomplished safely, and

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 133

while the grandparents were enraptured with the baby, I was
enjoying the delight of a first visit to a large city.

When the new town 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.

The sojourn of the family on the frontier was very brief.
After the fall of Rome it 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. lyouis.

CHAPTER XVII.

HOW THE SOBRIQUET OF ' ' BUFFALO BILL ' * WAS WON — THE
REMARKABLE PERFORMANCES OF BRIGHAM AND LUCRE-
TIA BORGIA — A CONTEST OF SKILL IN BUFFALO HUNTING
— WILL RETURNS TO SCOUTING — A DANGEROUS RIDE — A
TRICKY MULE, AND WHAT HAPPENED TO IT.

N 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 em-
ployed 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 ex-
pert buffalo slayer, Goddard Brothers were glad to add him to
their " commissary staff." His contract with them called for
an 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
134

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 135

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 ac-
quired 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 thou-
sands 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 juster cause for re-
belling 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 whal-
er'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
of 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 man in the dress of a working man, astride a not hand-

136 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

some 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 ex-
pect 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 137

The officers had not had even a shot at the game. Astonish-
ment 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 ? "

"Will Cody's my name."

" Well, Will 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 com-
panions were a trifle sore over missing even the opportunity of
a shot, but they professed to be more than repaid for their dis-
appointment by witnessing a feat they had not supposed pos-
sible 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 ex-
pected to dp was to shoot the buffalo. If the first shot failed,
Brigham allowed another, if this, too, failed, Brigham lost pa-
tience, 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 were attracted by the news of the
contest. Officers, soldiers, plainsmen and railroad men took a
day off to see the sport, and one excuisioii party that included
many ladies, among them Louise, came up from St. L,ouis.

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

138 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 buffalo, 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 bare-back 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. Meantime 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 Sheridan
came West to personally direct operations. He took up his
quarters at Fort Hayes, where ' ' Buffalo Bill ' ' at once applied
for a position as military scout. The application was accepted
and he was assigned to Fort learned.

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.

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 139

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 the 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 Pawnee Fork manned by colored troops. Here he delivered
a letter to Major Cox, the officer in command, and after eating
breakfast he 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 jour-
ney 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 de-
sired to send dispatches to Larned, and as none of the other
scouts wrere 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

140 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

he succumbed to the inevitable, picked out the most enterpris-
ing 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 Lamed. 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. 'T was 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 L,arned much more than twenty
miles away.

What the poet calls ' ' the golden exhalations of the dawn ' '
began to warm the grey 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 foot-
sore 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 inci-
dent.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 141

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.
More substantial commendation came later in the form of pro-
motion, Will being detailed as special scout for General Hazen.

CHAPTER XVIII.

SATANTA, CHIEF OF THE KIOWAS — SCOUT CODY IS CAPTURED
AND TOMAHAWKED "FOR A JOKE" — A STERN CHASE —
ONE WAY OF BRINGING MEAT INTO CAMP — GENERAL
CARR'S EXPEDITION — A BIG BATTLE WITH THE REDSKINS.

"> ~ — ITHIN plain view of Fort Darned

lay a large camp of Kiowas and
Comanches. They were not
yet bedaubed with war paint,
but they were as restless as a
panther 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 pow-
erful and resourceful warrior,
who because of remarkable tal-
ents 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 deal-
ings with dishonest agents and traders. There probably never
was an Indian so depraved that he could not be corrupted fur-
ther by association with a rascally white man.

When the Kiowas were friendly with the government Sa-
tanta received a guest with all the magnificence the tribe
afforded. A carpet was spread for the white man to sit upon,

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 143

and a folding board was set up for a table. The question of
expense never intruded.

Individually, too, Satan ta 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 blanket and feathers.

It was part of General Hazen's mission to Fort learned to patch
up a treaty with the outraged Kiowas and Comanches, if it could
be brought about. On one warm August morning, the gen-
eral 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 ambu-
lance, 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 sur-
rounded 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

144 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 ac-
quainted.

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 for-
ward to notify the Indians that an army of sirloin steaks was
advancing upon them.

Satanta was much pleased, and the other chiefs were like-
wise interested. Did General Hazen say the cattle were for
them ? Was there a chance that the scout was mistaken ?

Not a1 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 excel-
lent 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.

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 145

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 with-
out molestation, but, glancing over his shoulder, he noted a
party of ten or fifteen young braves slowly following him. Sa-
tanta 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 di-
rection.

They gave chase, but the mule had a good start, and when
it got its second wind — always necessary in a mule — the In-
dian ponies gained but slowly. When Ash Creek, six miles
from learned, was reached, the race was about even, but
at Pawnee Rock, two miles farther on, the Indians were un-
comfortably 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 con-
taining half a dozen soldiers and Denver Jim, a well-known
scout.

146 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

The team was driven among the trees, and the men hid them-
selves 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 Kiawas, Comanches, Southern Chey-
ennes and Arapahoes, He personally commanded the expe-
dition which left Fort Dodge with General Custer as chief of
cavalry, while General Evans, of the Third U. S. Cavalry,
started for Fort Union, New Mexico. General Penrose started
for Fort Lyon, Colorado, and General 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 -be-
fore, when, as Carr ranked Penrose, he would then take com-
mand of both expeditions. It was the 2ist of Novem-
ber 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 ani-
mals 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 Cana-
dian River, looking for the Indians. He was gone from the

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 147

supply camp thirty days, but could not locate the main band of
Indians, as they were further 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
FortL,yon, Colorado.

In the .spring of 1869 they moved to Fort McPherson, Ne-
braska.

In the spring of '69, the Fifth Cavalry, ordered to the De-
partment of the Platte, took up the line of march for Fort Mc-
Pherson, Nebraska, and for this expedition Will was appointed
guide and chief of scouts.

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 Gen-
eral 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.

11 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 ? "

148 LAST OF THE GRKAT SCOUTS.

" 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 en-
joyed 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 lie 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 reconnaissance. They
followed Beaver Creek for twelve miles, and then the lieuten-
ant and the scout climbed a knoll for a survey of the country.
One glance took in a large Indian village some three miles dis-
tant. 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 lieu-
tenant 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

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 149

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 inspiriting ' ' Boots and Sad-
dles," 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 mis-
understood the order, and, charging on the left wing of the
hostiles, was speedily hemmed in by some three hun-
dred 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 desper-
ate 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 fol-
lowed. 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

150 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 XIX.

AT FORT MCPHERSON — PAWNEE SCOUTS — ' ' BUCKSKIN JOE ' ' —
THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE SIOUX — THE STAND IN THE
RAVINE — A LONG SHOT, AND THE FALL OF TALL BULL —
HIS WIDOW'S SENTIMENTS.

N due time the Fifth Cavalry
reached Fort McPherson.
General Augur was in com-
mand of the Department of the
Platte, with his headquarters
at Omaha. 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 determina-
tion 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 amus-
ing 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 were well
drilled and thoroughly versed in the tactics. The Pawnees
also showed up well on drill, but their full-dress uniforms were

152 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 accoutrements, others were bare-
headed. Many wore the pantaloons, but declined the shirts,
while a few of the more original cut the seats from the panta-
loons, 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

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 153

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 look-
ing 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 niche 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 towards 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

154 tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 rnoccasined 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 Gen-
eral Carr with the news.

There was suppressed excitement all along the line, as offi-
cers and men prepared for what promised to be a lively scrim-
mage. The troops moved forward by a circuitous route, and
reached a hill overlooking the hostile camp without their pres-
ence 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 instru-
ment 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.

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 155

By the next morning the bugler had grown calm enough to
sound the call " Boots and Saddles ! " and General Carr split
his force into companies, as it was discovered that the Indians
had divided. Kach 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 re-
united 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 awaited the
course of Indian events, which, as usual, came in circular form.
The Sioux surrounded the regulars, and, finding them com-
paratively 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

156 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

along the ravine to a point which he thought would be within
range of the thief 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 hun-
dred 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 XX.

ARMY LIFE AT FORT MCPHERSON — A BUFFALO HUNT, AND
WHAT CAME OF IT — " WILLIAM F. CODY, JUSTICE OF THE
PEACE" — THE BEACON ON THE HILLTOP — NED BUNT-
LINE — THE SIOUX LEGEND OF THE CREATION — THE
GREAT SPIRIT'S MASTERPIECE.

N the spring of '70 Will pro-
ceeded to put into effect the
determination of the previous
year — to establish a home in
the lovely country of the west-
erly Platte. After preparing
quarters wherein his family
might be comfortable, he ob-
tained 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 pre-
pared to depart for the frontier home my sister-in-law wrote
to me to a.sk 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 child-
hood'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

'57

158 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

severe discipline of army life. Will ranked with the officers,
who were not suffered to associate with those of inferior grade,
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 gaiety 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 Leaven worth,
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 en-
couraged 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 offi-
cers and the newspaper man, Dr. Frank Powell, now of I^a
Crosse ; 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

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 159

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,
1 ' 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 alter-
nations 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 bear-
ing 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 equestri-
ennes 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

l6o LAST" OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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. As has been previously noted,
the buffalo has but one vulnerable spot, between the eyes, 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 de-
parture of the hunting party, and his first query was :

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. l6l

"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. To avoid Scylla was to likely fall into Charyb-
dis.

" 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 ab-
sence meant danger in the air? Fine idea, to let a party of
ladies go beyond the fort on such a foolhardy expedition be-
fore I had assured you it was safe to do so ! Understand, if
any harm comes to my sisters, I'll hold the government respon-
sible !"

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 reader
will recall that a 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

1 62 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 cap-
tured by Indians, if they would agree to provide me with a wig-
wam wherein I might lie down and rest, but no Indians ap-
peared. 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 cosy 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 re-
ceived 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 numer-
ous petty crimes among the civilians, and General Emery, now
chief in authority at the post, requested the county commis-
sioners 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 :

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 163

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 infor-
mation. The Bible was examined more diligently, perhaps,
than it had ever before been in his lifetime, 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 trepi-
dation. At the outset his conducting of the ceremony was ir-
reproachable, and we were secretly congratulating ourselves
upon his success, when our ears were startled by the announce-
ment :

' ' 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, making three olive branches, a second daugh-
ter having been named Orra. 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

164 tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 un-
closed 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 fanc}r, behind which passed a host of shadowy horse-
men 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.

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 165

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 trav-
eled with the "Wild West Show."

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 intro-
duced as Colonel Judson, though the public knows him better
as ' ' Ned Buntline, ' ' the story-writer. He desired to accom-
pany 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 pro-
nounced 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.

1 66 tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 light-
ened they proclaimed their superiority to the lightning ; when
it thundered they laughed.

This displeased the Great Spirit, and to rebuke their arro-
gance 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 the races do, that the story of the Deluge is his-
tory 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 pale-face
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 XXI.

ANOTHER MARRIAGE — A LODGE IN THE WILDERNESS — AN
INDIAN RAID AND THE DEATH OF LITTLE JOHN — FRON-
TIER BANKING — A MIRAGE — SMOKED OUT — GENERAL

DUNCAN'S EXPEDITION — DISTINGUISHED VISITORS — A

VISIT TO SPOTTED TAIL.

I/THOUGH 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
'71 I was married to Mr. Jes-
ter, 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 com-
modious, and before I entered
it, a bride, it was refitted in a
style almost luxurious. I re-
turned to lyeavenworth to prepare for the wedding, which took
place at the home of an old friend, Thomas Plowman, his
daughter Emma having been my girlhood's chum.

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

1 68 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 gener-
ally. Poor little chap ! He was one of the first of the In-
dians' 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 ad-
vised to ride at once to the fort. Hastily packing a few valu-
ables, 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 thou-
sand dollars in banknotes 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 169

envelope containing the banknotes, and sewed up the slit. No
one was knowing to my trust, and I regarded it as safe-
guarded.

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 I,ou, my sister-in-law.
When I reached Mrs. Krickson' 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 war-path. ' '

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 en-
trusted 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 foot-
hills. 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
insight."

" 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

I/O . LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 pack-
age of banknotes, and visited another neighbor, a Mrs. Mc-
Donald, 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 In-
dian experiences. When she first settled in her present home
there was no fort to which she could flee from Indian moles-
tation, 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 rne from the dark-
ness outside my window. Flight was impossible, and my hus-
band would not likely reach home for an hour or more. What
should I do ? A happy thought came to me. You know, per-
haps, 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 uproar-
iously '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 neighbor-
hood. I became sober immediately. Molasses and water is
not a very intoxicating beverage."

Since writing the above the sad news has reached me of Mrs.
McDonald's death, which occurred at her home in North
Platte, Nebraska.

I plucked up courage to return to the ranch that evening,
and shortly afterward the hunting party rode up. When I re-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 171

lated 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 dan-
ger, 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 set-
tlers 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
'71, 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 tor-
ture 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,

172 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 some-
thing like this : "Post Number One. Nine o'clock. All's
well." The Pawnee effort to obey was so ludicrous and pro-
vocative of such profanity (which they could express passing
well) that the order was countermanded.

One afternoon Major North and Will rode ahead of the com-
mand 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 '71, 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 Emery, 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

Gordoii Bennett, J. G. Heckscher, General Fitzhugh, Schuyler
Crosby, Dr. Asch 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 re-
viewed 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 de-
partment fairly bulged. Several ambulances were also taken
along, for the comfort of those that 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 mem-
bers voted Will a veritable Nimrod — a mighty hunter, and he
was abundantly thanked for his masterly guidance of the ex-
pedition .

That winter a still more distinguished party visited the post.
This was nothing less than 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.

174 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 sug-
gested 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 sin-
cere 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 prom-
ised 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 175

"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 XXII.

THE HUNT OF THE GRAND DUKE ALEXIS — A RIDE TO BE
REMEMBERED — JOURNEY TO THE EAST — A CALL FOR A
DRAMATIC HERO — SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS — WILL PLAYS LU-
CULUJS, AND IS STAGGERED BY THE COST THEREOF — A
VISIT TO PENNSYLVANIA RELATIVES.

- SPECIAL train brought the
Grand Duke Alexis and party
to North Platte on January 12,
1872. Will was presented to
the illustrious visitor by Gen-
eral Sheridan and was much in-
terested in him. He was also
pleased to note that General
Custer made one of the party.
Will had made all the ar-
rangements 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 con-
ductor of the Grand Duke's train came up to Will and said
that Mr. Thompson had not received a horse. ' ' What Thomp-
son? " 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.
176

LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS. 177

However, he did not wish to have Mr. Thompson or anyone
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 anyone 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 beauti-
ful 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 rid-
ing 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 rid-
ing him we supposed that of course you were the king, for that
horse, sir, is Buckskin Joe."

Thompson had heard General Sheridan telling about Buck-
skin Joe on the way out, and how Buffalo Bill had once run

178 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

him eighty miles when the Indians were after him. Thomp-
son told Will afterwards 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, now 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 extra-
ordinary interest to the Grand Duke and his friends. The out-
landish contortions and grimaces of the Indians, their leaps and
crouchings, their fiendish yells and whoops, made up a bar-
baric 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 blood-
shed 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 179

frontier, and when the visitors were ready to drive to the rail-
road station, Will was requested to illustrate, for their edifica-
tion, the manner in which a stage-coach and six was 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 on to the carriage ; then Will
climbed to the driver's seat.

" Just imagine," said he to his passengers, " that fifty In-
dians 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 passen-
gers to their seats. Had the fifty Indians of the driver's fancy
been wkooping 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 :

1 ' 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 Behring 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 recip-
ient of a number of valuable souvenirs.

At that time Will had very little thought of crossing the

I SO LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 enter-
tained 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 car-
ried out his intention of writing a story of Western life with
Scout Cody for the hero and the result, having been drama-
tized, was doing a flourishing business at one of the great
city's theatres. Will made one of a party that attended a per-
formance of the play one evening, and it was shortly whis-
pered 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 be-
fore the footlights in due course, but on this night the audi-
ence 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 enter-
tainers. He found considerable trouble in keeping his appoint-
ments 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 lyji-
cullus. Surely that would more than pay for all that ten

tAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. l8l

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 pre-
pared for a party of twelve, and set as date the night preced-
ing 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 din-
ner 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 con-
fided 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 won-
derful 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 as-
tonished at his bill, so he requested that the account be for-
warded 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

1 82 I*AST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS.

who could invent plots for stories, and extricate his characters
from all sorts of embarrassing situations, should be able to in-
vent a method of escape from so comparatively simple a perplex-
ity 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 Bast 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 accom-
panied Will on his trip to Westchester.

Some of my readers may have passed through the experience
of waiting in a strange drawing-room for the coming of rela-
tives one has never seen, and of whose personality one has but
the vaguest idea. And there is the uncertainty of the recep-
tion. Will it be frank and hearty, or reserved and doubtful ?
During the few minutes succeeding the giving of his and Bunt-
line'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 bright-
ened by the loveliest girl he had ever looked upon, and follow-
ing 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 con-
ceived 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, and thus enshrined will the
memory of her be with him always.

CHAPTER XXIII.

STOLEN HORSES — WILL IS ELECTED TO THE NEBRASKA LEG-
ISLATURE— A THEATRICAL VENTURE — REMARKABLE PER-

FORMANCE OF THE SCOUT OF THE PLAINS

-WILD BILL

GROWS RESTLESS — WILL ORGANIZES A THEATRICAL COM-
PANY OF HIS OWN — DEATH OF KIT CARSON CODY.

PON Will's return to McPher-
son he was at once obliged to
take the field to look for In-
dians that had raided the station
during his absence and carried
off a considerable number of
horses. Captain Meinhold and
Lieutenant Lawson command-
ed the company dispatched to
recover the stolen property.
Will acted as guide, and had
as an assistant T. B. Omohun-
dro, better known by his fron-
tier name of " Texas Jack.'1
Will was not long in finding Indian tracks, and accompanied
by six men, he went forward to locate the redskin camp ex-
actly. 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 ques-
tion 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 unsuspect^
ing warriors, who sprang for their horses and gave battle. But

.83

184 I.AST OF THE GREAT^ SCOUTS.

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 left dead on the
plain, and nearly all of the stolen horses were recovered. One
SQJflier 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 '72, 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 privi-
leged to prefix the title " Honorable " to his name, and later
this was supplanted by " Colonel" — a title won in the Ne.
braska National Guard, and which he claims is much better
suited to his attainments.

Will, unlike his father, had no taste for politics or for politi-
cal 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 burrs 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 magni-
tude. 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 185

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 busi-
ness 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 bal-
anced 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, Judsoii," he continued, after vainly try-
ing 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 awhile, 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

1 86 tAvST OF Tin-: GRKAT SCOUTS.

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 stam-
peding buffaloes, than face the peaceful-looking audience that
was waiting to criticise their Thespian efforts.

lyike almost all amateurs, they insisted on peering through
the peep-holes in the curtain, which augmented their nervous-
ness, 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 was 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 :

LAST OF THE GRRAT SCOUTS. 187

11 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 frontiers-
man 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 com-
mendable desire to get things running smoothly, tried again
and again to give Will his cue, but even cues had been for-
gotten.

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

1 88 LAST OK THK GREAT 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 backwards, quite as well as
the way in which it had been written.

However, nothing succeeds like success. A number of man-
agers 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.
I,ouis, thence to Cincinnati and other large cities, and every-
where 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 con-
tinued 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 189

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 real-
istic 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 inno-
cent 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 Will 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 ac-
customed 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 '75-' 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.

190 LAST OK THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 audi-
ence 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 in-
cident 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 the
previous summer carried him away. 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 turned 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 fea-
ture 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 ap-
peared 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 be-
tween father and son. His duty performed, Kit settled him-
self 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 191

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. ' '
L,ittle Kit was laid to rest in Mount Hope Cemetery, April
24, 1876. He is not dead, but sleeping ; not lost, but gone be-
fore. 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 heaven-
ward the eyes of those that loved them so dearly here on earth.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE SIOUX UPRISING OF ' 76 — SITTING BUU, — THE GAUSS OF
THE WAR — OUSTER'S CAMPAIGN — THE FIFTH CAVALRY'S
BRUSH WITH CHEYENNES — A PRAIRIE DUEL — THE SIOUX
WAR ON THE MIMIC STAGE — " SCOUT'S REST RANCH"
— AN OASIS IN THE DESERT.

ERY glad was the sad-hearted
father that the theatrical sea-
son 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 un-
equal 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
192

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 193

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 '76 had its origin, like most of its prede-
cessors 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 dis-
covered, 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 in-
timidate the Indians into submission. But Custer was too
wise, too familiar with Indian nature, to adhere to the letter of
his instructions. 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 commodi-
ties Custer handed around some advice. This was to the ef-
fect that it would be to the advantage of the Sioux if they per-
mitted the miners to occupy the gold country. The coffee,
sugar and bacon were accepted thankfully by I,o, but no
nation, tribe or individual since the world began has ever wel-
comed advice. It was thrown away on I/>. 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 pop-
ulation 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.

194 I^AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

The result of this continued bad faith was inevitable ; every-
where the Sioux rose in arms. Strange as it might seem to
one that has not followed the government's remarkable Indian
policy, it had dispensed firearms to the Indians with a gener-
ous hand. The government's Indian policy, condensed, was
to stock the red man with rifles and cartridges and then pro-
vide him with a first-class reason for using them against the
whites. During May, June and July of that year the Sioux
had received i , 1 20 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 '76
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 Chi-
cago he found that General Carr was still in command of the
Fifth Cavalry and had sent a request that Will return to his
old position. Carr was at Cheyenne ; thither Will hastened at
once. He was met at the station by Captain Charles King, the
well-known author and now serving as brigadier-general at
Manila, adjutant of the regiment. As the pair rode into camp
the cry went up : " Here comes Buffalo Bill !" Three ring-
ing 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 General
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 blun-
dered," not once, but many times, and Custer's command dis-
charged the entire debt with their life-blood.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 195

When the news of the tragedy reached the main army prep-
arations were made to move against the Indians in force. The
Fifth Cavalry was instructed to cut off, if possible, eight hun-
dred Cheyenne warriors on their way to join the Sioux, and
General Merritt, with five hundred men, hastened to Hat, or
War-Bonnet Creek, purposing to reach the trail before the In-
dians could do so. The creek was reached on the iyth 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.

General 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 Chey-
ennes 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 General
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 general 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 general 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. General 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 General
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 pro-

196 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

claimed 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 re-
cover the chieftain's body and to avenge his death. It was now
General Merritt' s turn to move. He dispatched a company of
soldiers to Will's aid, and then ordered the whole regiment to
the charge. 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 chief-
tain offered Will four mules if he would return the war-bonnet
and accoutrements worn by the young warrior and captured in
the fight, but Will was unable to grant the request, much as he
pitied Cut Nose in his grief.

The Fifth Cavalry on the following day 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 Yellow-
stone. Here General Miles met them, to report that no Indians
had crossed the stream.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 197

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 intro-
duce 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 north ward, in partnership with
Major North, the leader of the Pawnee scouts. Their friend-
ship had strengthened since their first meeting, ten years be-
fore.

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 centre of the broad
tract of land stands the picturesque building known as ' ' Scout's
Rest Ranch," which, seen from the foothills, has the appear-
ance of an old castle.

The ranch is one of the most beautiful spots that one can

198 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

imagine, and is, besides, an object lesson in the value of scien-
tific investigation and experiment, joined with persistence and
perseverance. When Colonel Cody bought the property he
was an enthusiastic believer in the possibilities of Nebraska de-
velopment. 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 com-
monly 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 de-
velopment, Mr. Goodman began investigation and experiment.
It took him but a short time to acquire a knowledge of the de-
ficiencies of the soil, and this done, the bigger half of the prob-
lem 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 199

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 pro-
cess 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- bush began to grow, their
yearly decay adding to the ever-thickening layer of soil.

Having learned the secret of the earth, Mr. Goodman de-
voted himself to the study of the trees. He investigated those
varieties having lateral roots, to determine which would flour-
ish 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 fail-
ures 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 cotton-
woods, box-elder, and other members of the tree family. The
ranch looked like an oasis in the desert, and neighbors in-
quired into the secret of the magic that had worked so marvel-
ous 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 sev-
eral 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 XXV.

LITERARY WORK — COLONEL CODY'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY — GUESTS
AT NORTH PLATTE — A DEER HUNT — WHY THE FAWN WENT
FREE — THE RANCH ON THE DISMAL RIVER — NINE DAYS'
CAMP IN THE FOOTHILLS — AN ESTIMATE OF COLONEL
CODY'S SUCCESS AS AN ACTOR.

T was during this period of his
life that my brother's first lit-
erary 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 bet-

IRrSH^ ter than a pen- A life of con-
W^^^^» stant action on the frontier
|mvs>."^M^^P does not leave a man much time
vS^^W f°r ac(luirinS an ^ucation ; so
V* feP^ k is no Sreat wonder that the
first sketch Will wrote for pub-
lication was destitute of punctuation and short of capitals in
many places. His attention was directed to these shortcom-
ings, but Western life had cultivated a disdain for petty
things.

"Ivife 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

200

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 2OI

had leisure for study, and he used it to such good advantage
that he was soon able to send to the publishers a clean manu-
script, grammatical, and well spelled, capitalized and punctuated.
The publishers appreciated the improvement, though they
had sought after his work in its cruder 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 pub-
lisher 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 where-
ever you deem it wise."

Even this story, which one accustomed to border life con-
fessed to be exaggerated, fell far short of the sensational and
blood-curdling tales usually written, and was published ex-
actly as the author wrote it.

During the summer of '77 I paid a visit to our relatives in
Westchester, Pennsylvania. With me was my only child, a
little daughter. We were now alone in the world. My hus-
band had lost all his wealth before his death, and I was obliged
to rely upon my brother for a support. To meet a widespread
demand, Will this summer wrote his autobiography. It was
published at Hartford, Connecticut, and I, anxious to do some-
thing for myself, took the general agency of the book for the
state of Ohio, spending a part of the summer there in push-
ing its sale. But I soon tired of a business life, and turning
over the agency to more competent hands, went from Cleve-
land to visit Will at his new home, just completed, at 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 :

202 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

" 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 ap-
preciate 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.

1 ' There' s no reason why you can't go if you wish to, ' ' said he.
Will owned numerous conveyances and was able to pro-
vide ways and means to carry us all comfortably. L,ou and the
two little girls, Arta and Orra, rode in an open phaeton. There
were covered carriages, surreys and a variety of turnouts to
transport the invited guests. Several prominent citizens of
North Platte were invited to join the party, and when our ar-
rangements were completed we numbered twenty-five.

Will took a caterer along, and made ample provisions for the
inner man and woman. He 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 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 203

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 horse-
back 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's butt on
the ground. Another fawn passed him before he fired, and as
the little creature fell we rode up to Will's side and began chaff-
ing 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 be-
fore 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 :

"Everyone 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

204 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 rue it was but one of many little incidents that revealed a
side of his nature the rough life of the frontier had not cor-
rupted.

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 dis-
mayed 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.

I '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 :

II 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 2O5

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 min-
utes through the hair over his forehead — a characteristic ac-
tion 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 any-
thing 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 impa-
tience, "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 get-
ting 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

2O6 LAST OF THK GREAT SCOUTS.

one of you were lost among these foothills, and a whole regi-
ment started out in search of you, the chances are ten to one
that you would starve to death 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 afterwards
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 velvet -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 ladies of the party would ever
3^2 the place again, so remote was it from civilization, belong-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 207

ing 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 tree-top. Will came up with
the others, and when we pointed out to him the supposed chest
of gold he smiled.

' ' I am sorry, ' ' said he, ' * to dissipate the hopes you ladies have
built in yonder tree, but the truth is you are gazing not at any-
thing of intrinsic value, but on the open sepulchre of some
departed brave, and your treasure-trove turns out to be only
the hidden skeleton, which, with woman's penetration, you
have discovered even in the remote closet of Nature's home."
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 him-
self 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 sepulchre 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 de-
parted is esteemed a spirit chief, who in the happy hunting
grounds intercedes for and leads on to sure viciory the warriors
who trusted to his leadership in the material world.

We bade a reluctant adieu to the idyllic retreat, and threw

2O8 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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. The episode was written
up most graphically at the time under the caption, "A Nine
Days' Camp in the Foothills."

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 enthusi-
asm. There was no doubt of his financial success, whatever
criticisms might be passed on the artistic side of his perform-
ance. 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 for-
gotten 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 priva-
tions 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 XXVI.

FIRST VISIT TO THE VAU.EY OF THE) BIG HORN— AN INDIAN
DESCRIPTION OF EITHITY TUGALA, THE IJIS OF THE RED
MAN — COLONEL CODY'S ACCOUNT OF THE BEAUTIES OF THE
BIG HORN BASIN — THE HAUNTED LAKE — THE COMMANDS
OF THE GREAT SPIRIT FROM AN INDIAN POINT OF VIEW.

Y brother was again bereaved in
1880, by the visit of the Death
Angel, when his little daugh-
ter Orra was called home. Her
death forged another link in
the gradually lengthening
chain that unites earth and
heaven. One by one the com-
pany on the other side grows
larger ; one by one the treas-
ures increase above, to draw
upward the eyes set on earthly
success. At her own request,
Orra's body was interred in
Rochester, in beautiful Mount Hope Cemetery, by the side of
little Kit Carson. Here brother and sister peacefully await
the sounding of the last trump.

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 chris-
tened 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
210

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 211

departed this life. Her charm of person and grace of disposi-
tion are such as merit all the wealth of love poured out upon her.

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 dis-
satisfied 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 wariors 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 that 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 ques-
tioned him closely concerning the attempted escape.

"Surely," said he, "you cannot find a more beautiful spot

212 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 interpre-
ter:

' ' 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 Bithity Tugala was the Indian name of the Big
Horn Basin.

In the summer of '82 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 " Reddy." 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 213

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 ir-
regular line of stately cotton- woods 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 satis-
factorily 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 master-pieces.

' ' 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 I 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. Be-
yond 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 d:s-

214 LAST OF THH GRSAT SCOUTS.

tance 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 moun-
tain that Will has chosen the site of his future permanent resi-
dence. 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 pro-
poses 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-ash 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 as-
semble 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 spectres 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 spectres 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 rela-
tives and friends were recognized."

i«V.

M

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 215

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 sig-
nal from the Great Spirit ; the canoe had proceeded from east
to west — the course always followed by the red man. The
spectres had been sent from the Happy Hunting Grounds to
indicate that the tribe should move further west, and the sud-
den 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 in-
telligent 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 be-
fore he talked with Will large companies of Indians had made
pilgrimages to join one large conclave, for the purpose of cel-
ebrating 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

2l6 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 be-
lieve, 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 com-
ing. 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 an-
other. 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

LAST OF THE: GREAT SCOUTS. 217

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 XXVII.

ORGANIZATION OF THE "WILD WEST SHOW " — OPENING AT
OMAHA — TOUR OF GREAT BRITAIN — SPECTACULAR EF-
FECTS— IN LONDON — LUNCHEON IN HONOR OF GLAD-
STONE— PATRONAGE OF ROYALTY — THE QUEEN'S SALUTE
TO THE AMERICAN FLAG — THE DEADWOOD COACH — IN-
DIAN BREAKFASTS — HOMEWARD BOUND.

T was not until the spring of

11883 that Will was able to put
into execution his long-cher-
jjj ished plan, to present to the

public an exhibition that
I**".-.. $& should delineate, in part at

least, the wild life of America;
a life that the most of his
countrymen were as ignorant
of as the people of Europe.
Thus came into existence
" The Wild West Show," and
the first performance was held
at Omaha, in the state Will
had chosen for his home.

Of " Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show" there is no present
need of description. It has visited nearly every large city on the
civilized globe, and has been viewed by countless thousands,
who have pronounced it the most original show in the world.
It is peculiarly a product of the nineteenth century and, with
the name of its originator, will long hold a place in history.
As a child, I wept and refused to be comforted because of our
brother's persistent clinging to his show ideas, and his disre-
218

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 2 19

gard of the larger sphere predicted by the soothsayer, but as a
woman I rejoice that he was true to his own ideals, for he
sits his horse with a stately grace that's better suited to the
saddle than to the Presidential chair. And to-day, when he
has seen the unfolding of every blossom of his hopes, when
the show is an old story to him, I yet catch in his voice a ring
of joy as he advances before his great audiences and exclaims:

' ' Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to introduce to you a
congress of the rough riders of the world! ' '

From the very beginning the show was an immense success.
Three years were spent in visiting the large cities of 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
satisfactorily, W. F. Cody and NateSalsbury forming a partner-
ship in the enterprise.

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 I/>n-
don. 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.

Maj. John M. Burke had made the needed arrangements for
housing the big show, and preparations on a gigantic scale

220 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 tempor-
ary 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. The cost of the London prepara-
tions was $125,000. 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.

It is not necessary to enumerate the features of a show with
which the American public is so familiar — the Indian war-
dance, the bucking broncho speedily subjected by the valorous
cowboy, and the stage-coach attacked by Indians and rescued
by United States troops. Besides these, an Indian village on
the plains was presented 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 wariors. 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 221

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 rush-
ing, roaring flames. Wild animals, driven by the flames, dash
through the camp, and a stampede follows. This scene was ex-
tremely realistic.

A cyclone was also simulated, and a whole village blown out
of existence.

The Wild West Show 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 Lome, 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 pre-
sented to the members of the company. Unprepared for this
contingency, Will had forgotten to coach the performers in the
correct methods 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 of-
fered 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 spon-
taneity of the American girls' welcome was esteemed a pleas-
ing 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.

222 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

The Indian carnp 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 unimpas-
sioned 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 espe-
cially 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 Wild West Show was hon-
ored 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 con-
struct 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 cour-
tesy 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

I,AST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 223

her example, the gentlemen removing their hats. Will ac-
knowledged 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 specta-
tors 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 dis-
covered 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
every-day existence.

A second command from the Queen resulted in another exhi-
bition 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, illum-
ined this occasion.

The Deadwood coach was peculiarly honored. This was a
coach with a history. It was built in Concord, N. H., 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
that 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 gradu-
ally worked its way eastward to the Deadwood route, and on this

224 LAST OF THE GRSAT SCOUTS.

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 Show, as all remem-
ber, 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 poten-
tates 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 passen-
gers 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 ad-
mires the American national game of poker, turned to the
driver with the remark :

(( Colonel, you never held 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 225

Upon another occasion the Princess of Wales visited the
show incognita, first advising Will of her intention, and at the
close of the performance assured him that she had spent a de-
lightful evening.

The set performances of the Wild West were punctuated by
social entertainments. James G. Elaine, Chauncey M. Depew,
Murat Halstead and other prominent Americans were in Lon-
don at the time, and in their honor Will issued invitations to
a rib-roast breakfast prepared in Indian style. Fully one hun-
dred 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 L,ondon,
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 show visited Bir-
mingham and thence proceeded to its winter headquarters in

226 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 i, 1887, and as a good-bye 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." And then the
Indians and cowboys, anticipating the horrors of seasickness,
went below and steeled themselves against a repetition of the
miseries of the outward voyage.

The return was made memorable to Will by the death of
" Old Charlie," of which sad event Will gave the following
account in a communication to the American Agriculturist :

"My gallant and faithful horse Charlie, who found a grave
beneath the weltering waves of the Atlantic Ocean, was twenty
years old at his death. He was a half-blood Kentucky horse,
and was bought for me as a five-year old in Nebraska. From
that time he was the constant and unfailing companion of my
life on the Western plains and an the 'Wild West ' exhibition.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 227

He was an animal of almost human intelligence, extraordinary
speed, endurance and fidelity. When he was quite young
I 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 I could ride him over the prairie one hun-
dred miles in ten hours, he went the distance in nine hours and
forty-five minutes.

" When I opened my ' Wild West ' show at Omaha in May,
1883, Charlie was the star horse, and held that position at all
the exhibitions in this country and in Europe, where I took the
show in 1887. In L,ondou 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 my herd of buffaloes and became
quite attached to him. In May last, the English engagement
having closed, we all embarked on the Persian Monarch at
Hull for New York. On the morning of the i4th I made my
usual visit to Charlie between decks. Shortly after the groom
reported him sick, and I found him in a chill. He grew rapidly
worse in spite of all our care, and at two o'clock on the morn-
ing of the iyth he died. His death cast an air of sadness over
the whole ship, and a human being could not 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 ar-
rived the members of my 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.
&t length with choking utterance he 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 beneath the
ocean billows you must rest. Would that I could take you
back and lay you down beneath the verdant billows of that
prairie you and I have loved so well and roamed so freely ; but
it cannot be. How oft at the most quiet hour have we been
journeying over their trackless wastes ! How oft at break of
day, when the glorious sun rising on the horizon has found us
far from human habitation, have you reminded me of your need
and mine, and with your beautiful ears bent forward and your
gentle neigh given voice as plainly as human tongue to urge
me to prepare our morning meal ! And then, obedient to my
call, gladly you bore your burden on, little knowing, little

228 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

reckoning what the day might bring, so that you and I but
shared its sorrows and pleasures alike. Nay, but for your
willing speed and tireless courage I would many years ago have
lain as low as you are now, and my Indian foe have claimed
you as his slave. Yet you have never failed me. Ah, Charlie,
old fellow, I have had many friends, but few of whom I could
say that. Rest, jen tombed in the deep bosom of the ocean !
May your rest nevermore be disturbed. 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.'

' ' Whereupon Charlie was allowed to slide gently down a pair
of skids into the water. The accompanying engraving is a
lifelike portrait of Charlie when at the age of fifteen years."

On the 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 : "II.
John, 1-12." 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 was delighted.

"I have a religious sister at home," said he, " who knows
the Bible so well, that I believe if I were to wire her that mes-
sage she would 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. How many of my
readers are wise enough to translate II. John, 1-12, without
recourse to the book of books for information ?

CHAPTER XXVIII.

RETURN OF THE WILD WEST SHOW TO AMERICA — A LETTER
FROM W. T. SHERMAN — THE SEASON ON STATEN ISLAND
— AN INVITATION TO LEAD IN PRAYER — OFF FOR EUROPE
AGAIN — THE SOJOURN IN PARIS — ROSA BONHEUR — POPE
LEO'S ANNIVERSARY — THE COWBOYS SHOW THE ITALIANS
SOME POINTS IN HORSE TAMING — TOUR OF GERMANY.

HEN the Wild West show re-
turned 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 pictur-
esque scene than that of yester-
day, 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, including the musicians, 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

229

230 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

amount of foreign flattery could change him one hair from an
1 ' 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 manage-
nientand success. So far asl can makeout, you have been modest,
graceful and dignified in all you have done to illustrate the
history of civilization on this continent during the past cen-
tur3r. 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 cow-
boys. 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,-
ooo 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

tAST OK THE GRKAT SCOUTS. 231

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."

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 Eras-
tina, the site chosen for the exhibition. And you may be cer-
tain 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 Show 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, how-
ever, 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 Scrip-
tures; 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

232 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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, re-
peated 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 arrange-
ments were made for a grand Continental trip. A plan had
been maturing in Will's mind ever since the British sea-
son, and in the spring of '89 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 en-
thusiasm 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 ac-
cepted 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 — Per-
cherons of the breed depicted by the famous artist in her well-

LAST OF THB GREAT" SCOUTS. £33

known painting of ' ' The Horse Fair. ' ' Day upon day she
visited the camp and made studies, and as a token of her ap-
preciation 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 I^ondon embassy attache relates the following
story :

" During the time that Colonel Cody was making his tri-
umphant tour of Europe, I was one night seated at a banquet
next to the Belgian Consul. Early in the course of the con-
versation he asked :

" *' Madame, you haf undoubted been to see ze gr-rand Bouf-
faloBeel?'

" Puzzled by the apparently unfamiliar name, I asked :

' ' ' Pardon me, but whom did you say ? '

11 ' 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 buck-
skins and sombreros, and the Indians in war-paint and feathers.

$34 tAST OF TH£ GRKAT SCOUTS.

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 benedic-
tion ; 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 ac-
companiment, was given, and the vast concourse of people
poured out of the building.

This visit attracted much attention, and many were the news-
paper accounts of it. The following verses are worthy of reprint:

BUFFALO BILL AND THE ROMANS.

" I '11 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. '

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 235

"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 !
Csesar 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 dilapi-
dated 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 Serrnonetta 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 pre-
pared booths of great strength were erected. The greatest in-
terest and enthusiasm were manifested by the populace, and the
death of two or three members of the company was as confi-
dently looked for as was the demise of sundry gladiators iu the
" brave days of old."

236 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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, lassoes 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 lassoes, 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 plains-
men 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. 290. 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 the
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 ex-
cursion 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 mar-
ried. It was impossible for the father to be present, but by
cablegram he sent his congratulations and a check for five
thousand dollars, which arrived just as the wedding pair ad-
vanced to take their solemn vows.

CHAPTER XXIX.

RETURN TO AMERICA — THE SIOUX UPRISING OF '91 — INFLU-
ENCE EXERTED OVER THE INDIANS BY THE W^LD WEST
SHOW — WILL'S OPINION OF GENERAL MILES — BANQUET
IN HONOR OF THE GENERAL — BURNING OF * ' WELCOME

WIGWAM" — BACK TO EUROPE — END OF THE FOREIGN
TOUR.

N view of the success achieved
by my brother in every walk
of life he set foot on, it is re-
markable that he excited so
little envy. 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 Show 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 that 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

237

238 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

in charge of his partner, Mr. Nate Salsbury, 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 commentors were also
active. When Will's intended return to America was noised
about, the following tribute appeared in a Duluth paper :

COLUMBIA TO BUFFALO BILL.

Far away, far away, over the seas,
Teaching with warriors the beauty of peace ;
Where civilization and savagery blend,
Showing that dark man and fair may be friend ;
Courted and petted and honored each day,
By countries that bowed not to Bonaparte's sway —
Come to America, 'tis your home still —
Come back, my rover boy, Buffalo Bill !

Up from the now placid plains comes a sigh,

Echoed by mountains that kiss the blue sky,

Echoed by cities that grew in the path

Of the red men you quelled when they yelled in their wrath.

Bear it, thou wind of the far western sea,

The sigh from my breast with this message from me :

Come to Columbia, who dotes on thee still —

Come back, my gallant son, Buffalo Bill !

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 Kurope, and each returned to his
own tribe and people, to narrate around the camp-fire the won-
ders of the life abroad, while Will reported at headquarters to
offer his services for the war. Two years previous he had
been honored by the commission of Brigadier-General of the
Nebraska National Guard, which rank and title was given to
him by Governor Thayer.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOWS. 239

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 deal-
ing 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 show. They
had seen for themselves the wonders of the world's civi-
lization; they realized how futile were the efforts of the chil-
dren of the plains to stem the resistless tide of progress flow-
ing westward. Potentates had delighted to do honor to Pa-has-
ka, the lyong-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, Sit-
ting 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 some-
thing to do with the termination of hostilities. Arrangements

240 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

for peace were soon perfected, and Will attributed the govern-
ment'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 :

1 ' 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 ser-
vices which I was called upon to render. General Miles is the
peer 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
I long as General Miles is at the head of the army. If they
j 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.

. •- ;- i

m-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 241

Will received a telegram announcing that his house was
ablaze, and his reply was characteristic :

11 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, L,oneBull,
Scatter and Revenge. To these the trip to Alsace-I^orraine
was a revelation, a fairy tale more wonderful than anything
in their legendary lore. The ocean voyage, with its seasick-
ness, put them in an ugly mood, but the sight of the encamp-
ment and the cowboys dissipated their sullenness, and they
shortly felt at home. The hospitality extended tt> all the
members of the company by the inhabitants of the village
in which they wintered was most cordial, and left them the
pleasautest of memories.

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 centre of the
group. He looks around upon the swarthy faces, glowing
with all the eagerness which the stolid Indian nature will per-
mit 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;

242 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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.

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, L,ondon being reserved for the
last.

Royalty again honored the show 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. Asa token
of her appreciation the Queen bestowed upon Will a costly and
beautiful souvenir.

Not the least esteemed remembrance of this I^ondon visit was
an illuminated address presented by the English Working-
man's Convention. In it the American plainsman was con-
gratulated upon the honors he had won, the success he had
achieved, and the educational worth of the great show. 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 show 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, who gave up
existence just at the moment of landing.

CHAPTER XXX.

A THOUSAND MILES IN THE SADDLE WITH ' BUFFALO

"THE GARDEN OF THE GODS" — PREPARATIONS FOR
WORLD'S FAIR — "THE CONGRESS OF ROUGH RIDERS" —

NEWSPAPER ENTERPRISE IN DULUTH — CODY SANATORIUM.

UROPEAN army officers of all
nationalities regarded my
brother with admiring interest.
To German, French, Italian,
or British eyes, he was a com-
manding personality, and also
the representative of a peculiar
and interesting phase of new-
world life. Recalling their in-
terest 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, as he wished to honor the visit-
ors from foreign lands, and the native soldiery remained with
them until North Platte was reached.

A new and handsome residence had been erected by Will to
take the place of the one burned the preceding year, but the

243

244 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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
1 ' roughing it ' ' trip. Frontier cooks, who understand primi-
tive 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 the love-
liness of 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 be-
cause of the peculiar shape of the spires, needles and basilicas

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 245

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 moulded 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 grey 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 that 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; his principal business lay in picking himself up
when his broncho threw him down. The daintiness of his
menu was not a correct gage 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, paus-
ing 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, wild cats, deer, elk, antelope,

346 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 Navajoes 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 de-
fense, but the suspicious Indians were merely on the alert to
see that no trespass was committed, and when the orderly com-
pany 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 im-
pressed with the climate, as the thermometer went down to 40°
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 L,ake 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 247

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 Ger-
many, France, England and the United States. This aggre-
gation showed for the first time in 1893, an^ was an instan-
taneous success. Of it Opie Read gives a fine description :

1 * 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.

1 ' 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, the writer 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

248 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

see me well established in my new home ; he desired to ensure
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.

The business bade fair to be a prosperous one. We invited
my brother to make Duluth a visit, and look over his business
interests. He timed his trip to give us a New Year's call.
General invitations were issued to the business people at large
and the many new acquaintances we had made in Duluth, and
several hundred friends outside the city were also asked to meet
the business manager of the Duluth Press at a New Year's
reception. The response was of the genuine Western kind,
fully eighteen hundred people being present during the
evening. The building was thronged with those who wished
to see the guest of honor and bid him welcome to Duluth.

We were encouraged by the success of the business venture
on which we had entered, for my faith in the future greatness
of 'Duluth was, and is, unbounded. I induced my brother to
still further invest in the Zenith City. Property was purchased
on an eminence overlooking St. Louis Bay, and the institution
known as the Cody Sanatorium was built and furnished in 1896.
This building was finely situated in one of the most healthful
and picturesque locations anywhere to be found, and the enter-
prise was self-supporting from the beginning. The added care
and responsibility, however, proved too much for me, so it
became necessary that some one take my place in the business
management of the paper.

At that time the Duluth Press was fairly on its feet, and
showed a good financial standing. I considered it on a secure
basis, and proposed to my brother that he take some one else
in as partner in my place. Personally, Will had never at-
tempted any supervision of this business, everything had been
entrusted to my management. I retired from the publishing
business in August of '97, and devoted my time and energies
toward permanently establishing a flourishing health resort.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 249

How this would have turned out we were not permitted to
know, for on the iyth of November, 1897, tne Sanatorium
burned to the ground. There was only a small insurance on
the property, and it was my sad lot to stand upon the hill-top,
on a bitter winter's night, and witness thousands of my
brother's hard earned money go up in smoke.

The sun rose next morning on a changed scene. The even-
ing before its setting rays fell upon an elegant and beautiful
institute ; its morning beams lit up a mass of smoking, disfigur-
ing ruins. No word of reproach or blame reached me from my
brother ; only a message of sympathy and condolence flew over
the wires to his luckless business partner.

After being released from the cares incident to the Sanatorium
work, I resumed the publishing business, in which we are now
actively engaged.

The next year Will erected a home for me upon the site
where the health institute had stood. This beautiful home,
provided by a brother's unselfish love, I have named Cody view,
in honor of the donor. I may be prejudiced in its favor, but
it commands a view so striking and magnificent that I cannot
conceive any thing more lovely on earth.

Both my brother and myself are trailing toward the sunset
of life. He expects and desires to see his life's star sink be-
hind the far-off Rocky Mountains ; it is my wish to receive
my summons on the mountain-top where my chosen home is
situated. Some day those that come after me will be surrounded
by stately homes, the suburban hill-top will have developed
into a beautiful residence avenue, and not only will the dwellers
in Cody view revel in the beauties of sky, lake and hill, but
they will overlook a city which will be the metropolis of the
Northwest.

CHAPTER XXXI.

TENTED CITY" — AN INCIDENT IN A BOSTON HOSPITAL —
THE WILD WEST VISITS NORTH PLATTE — CODY DAY AT

THE OMAHA EXPOSITION — A REUNION OF PIONEERS.

INCE 1893 the Wild West exhi-
bitions 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 depart-
ments. Many of the men have
their families with them; the
Indians have their squaws and
papooses, and the variety of
nationalities, dialects and cos-
tumes, 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 Mexi-
cans, a shade more civilized, shovel with their knives great
quantities of the same food into the capacious receptacle pro-
vided 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 civiliza-
tion— ice cream.

Nate Salsbury had his young son with him during one sum-
mer season. The boy tried to emulate the Indians in their
vocal gymnastics, and the father endured it for a time in
silence, but his patience became exhausted.
250

LAST OP THE GREAT SCOUTS. 251

"If you don't stop that bawling, I'll punish you," he
warned.

The young hopeful paused long enough to reply : ' ' All
right, father ; you spank, and I'll yell like the Indians, just the
same!"

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 ex-
citement 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, bed-ridden by spinal trouble, cried bit-
terly because he had not seen it. A kind-hearted nurse en-
deavored 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 sim-
plicity. The little sufferer told the great showman 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

252 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 direc-
tions 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 show for weeks
after this visit.

North Platte had long urged my brother to bring the show
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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 253

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 hu-
morously remarking :

' ' We shall be obliged to take for our text this morning,
' Buffalo Bill and his Wild West Show, ' 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

254 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

themselves in that conveyance, and we passed through the
town preceded and followed by a band. As we debarked 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 broth-
er's home. The next day our mother-sister, as she had always
been regarded, entertained us at "Scout's Rest Ranch."
Only one thing marred the pleasure of this gathering. Sister
May, the youngest of the family, was married in 1872 to Mr.
E. C. Bradford. She met her own family for the first time
since her husband's death, which occurred in California,
whither he had gone in the vain pursuit of health, and as her
bereavement was very recent, her heavy mourning cast the
only shadow on an otherwise happy scene.

The Wild West show 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 Wild West show 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 i2th, the date of the North Platte perform-
ance, 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 j^our 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.

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 255

"Colonel, shall we stretch the full canvas?" asked the tent
man.

" 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 indi-
cations 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 popu-
lace made the air almost too thick for breathing. It was dur-
ing 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 dumbfounded 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 show.

Omaha, where the opening performance of this exhibition
was given, honored Will last year by setting apart one day as

Cody Day. ' ' August 3 ist was devoted to his reception, and a
large and enthusiastic crowd gathered to do the Nebraska

256 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 deaf-
ening 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 dis-
mounted 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
Clark son, 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, Alex-
ander 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 lam 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 257

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 manu-
facturing business men who have made great names for them-
selves, who have stood high in the nation ; we have had Barnum
in the show business. Next, and even greater and higher, we
have had a Cody. He, gentlemen, stands now at the head of
the showmen of the United States of America, and of the
world. When the boy Cody came to me, standing straight as
an arrow, and looked me in the face, I said to my partner,
1 We will take this little boy ' — Mr. Russell was standing by
my side — ' 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 $25 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 appreci-
ation 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 man-
hood. You are known wherever you go, abroad or in the

258 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 demon-
stration 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 re-
member 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 pro-
tector 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 re-
spond 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 ex-
press 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 259

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 civiliza-
tion 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 ob-
literate 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 kind-
ness and permit me to fall back into the ranks as a high pri-
vate, 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 exposi-
tion 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.

260 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 compen-
sate 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 post-office of Omaha around in
his hat, and who still wore the hat. Numbers of other pio-
neers were there, and each contributed his share of racy anec-
dotes and pleasant reminiscences.

The new feature of 1898 was the band of Cuban riders. It
will tax even my brother's ingenuity to find a new and start-
ling innovation for the Paris Exposition.

Since the above was written and as this volume is going to
press, March 29, 1899, the arrival at Madison Square Garden,
New York City, is announced of native delegations from Porto
Rico, the Sandwich Islands and the Philippine Islands, to
markedly enhance the ethnological and equestrian attractions
of " Buffalo Bill's Wild West."

BUFFALO HILL

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS

CHAPTER XXXII.

THIS TAMING OF THE WILD WEST — GRASS-GROWN TRAILS
AND HOARY LANDMARKS — THE TRAILS OF STEEL — OLD
AND NEW MODES OF TRAVEL CONTRASTED — THE BUF-
FALO— THE INDIAN — THE "LAST OF THE SCOUTS."

D 0 MINION

CANAD A

X/CO

HE 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. Bancroft Library

The route of the old historic
Santa Fe trail is nearly fol-
lowed by the Atchison, To-
peka & 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
But these are very few in number. Pike's Peak lifts

261

men.

262 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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.

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, an-
nouncing that he would return in time for breakfast. The
day passed with no sign of Captain Fisher, and night length-
ened into a new day. When the second day passed without
his return, his command was forced to believe that he had fal-
len a prey to lurking Indians, and the soldiers were sadly tak-
ing 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 trans-continental line which supplanted the Old Salt
Lake Trail, and is now known as the Union Pacific Railroad,
antedated the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe by eleven years.
The story of the difficulties encountered, and the obstacles over-
come 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 reek-
ing, 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

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 263

dangers the early voyagers encountered they have no sympathy.
The traveler in the stage-coach 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. Hven 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 rail-
ways, we cannot repress a sigh as we meditate on the pictureque
phases of the vanished era. Gone are the bull-whackers and
the prairie schooners! Gone are the stage-coaches 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 Pa-
cific 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 thou-
sands of buffaloes were sacrificed for their skins, for which there
was a wide-spread demand. From 1868 to 1881, in Kansas
alone, there was paid out $2,500,000 for the bones of this ani-
mal, 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 of 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 whole-
sale slaughter has resulted in the practical extermination of
the species.

364 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 na-
ture, 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 Em-
pire ' ' 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 :

1 ' 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 oc-
cupies a unique place in the portrait gallery of famous Ameri-
cans to-day. It is not alone his commanding personality, nor

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 265

the success he has achieved along various lines, which gives
him the strong hold he has on the hearts of the American peo-
ple, 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 succes-
sor. He is the vanishing point between the rugged wilderness
of the past in Western life and the vast achievement in the
present.

He expects to spend one more year in this country ; then he
will close his career as exhibitor at the Paris Exposition, with
the closing year of the century. With the disbanding of the
Wild West company the last vestige of our frontier life passes
away 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 Buf-
falo 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.

266 LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS.

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 birth-
right 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 re-
maining 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 dol-
lars now waters this fertile region, and various other improve-
ments 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 prom-
ised land but for the untiring efforts of a Moses to go on be-
fore, but unlike the ancient guide and scout of sacred history, 4
my brother has been privileged to penetrate the remotest cor-

LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS. 267

ner of his 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. "

THK END.