 Chapter 29 of the Life of Honourable William F. Cody. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Barry Eads. The Life of Honourable William F. Cody by William F. Cody. Chapter 29. Starring Texas Jack and I spent several weeks in hunting in the western part of Nebraska, and at the end of our vacation we felt greatly reinvigorated and ready for another theatrical campaign. We accordingly proceeded to New York and organized a company for the season of 1873-74. Thinking that Wild Bill would be quite an acquisition to the troop, we wrote to him at Springfield, Missouri, offering him a large salary if he would play with us that winter. He was doing nothing at the time and we thought that he would like to take a trip through the states as he had never been east. Wild Bill accepted our offer and came on to New York, though he told us from the start that we could never make an actor out of him. Although he had a fine stage appearance and was a handsome fellow and possessed a good strong voice, yet when he went upon the stage before an audience it was almost impossible for him to utter a word. He insisted that we were making a set of fools of ourselves and that we were the laughing stock of the people. I replied that I did not care for that as long as they came and bought tickets to see us. Wild Bill was continually playing tricks upon the members of the company and it was his especial delight to torment the supers. Quite frequently in our sham Indian battles he would run up to the Indians, the supers, and putting his pistol close to their legs would fire at them and burn them with the powder instead of shooting over their heads. This would make them dance and jump so that it was difficult to make them fall and die, although they were paid twenty-five cents each for performing the dying business. The poor supers often complained to me about this and threatened not to go on stage and be killed again if that man, Wild Bill, did not stop shooting and burning their legs. I would order Wild Bill to stop his mischief and he would laugh and then promise not to do it anymore, but it would not be long before he was at his old tricks again. My company, known as the Buffalo Bill combination, did a fine business all through the East. Wild Bill continued his pranks which caused us considerable annoyance but at the same time greatly amused us. One day at Titusville, Pennsylvania, while Burke, the business agent, was registering our names and making arrangements for our accommodation, several of us started for the billiard room but were met by the landlord who stopped me and said that there was a party of ruffs from the lower oil region who were spreeing and had boasted that they were staying in town to meet the Buffalo Bill gang and clean them out. The landlord begged of me not to allow the members of the troop to enter the billiard room as he did not wish any fight in his house. To please the landlord and at his suggestion I called the boys up into the parlor and explained to them the situation. Wild Bill wanted to go at once and fight the whole mob but I persuaded him to keep away from them during the day. In order to entirely avoid the ruffs, the members of the company entered the theater through a private door from the hotel as the two buildings joined each other. While I was standing at the door of the theater taking the tickets, the landlord of the hotel came rushing up and said that Wild Bill was having a fight with the ruffs in the bar room. It seemed that Bill had not been able to resist the temptation of going to see what kind of a mob it was that wanted to test the pluck of the Buffalo Bill Party. And just as he stepped into the room one of the bruisers put his hand on his shoulder and said, Hello Buffalo Bill, we have been looking for you all day. My name is not Buffalo Bill, you are mistaken in the man, was the reply. You are a liar, said the bruiser. Bill instantly knocked him down and then seasoning a chair he laid out four or five of the crowd on the floor and drove the rest out of the room. All this was done in a minute or two and by the time I got downstairs Bill was coming out of the bar room whistling a lively tune. Well said he, I have been interviewing that party who wanted to clean us out. I thought you promised to come into the opera house by the private entrance. I did try to follow that trail, but I got lost among the cannons and then I ran in among the hostile said he, but it is all right now. They won't bother us anymore. I guess those fellows have found us and sure enough they had. We heard no more of them after that. Another incident occurred one night at Portland, Maine. Bill found it impossible to go to sleep at the hotel on account of the continued talking of some parties who were engaged in a game of cards in Anna joining room. He called to them several times to make less noise, but they paid little or no attention to him. He finally got up and went to the room with the intention of cleaning out the whole crowd. He knocked and was admitted, greatly to his surprise he found the party to be some merchants of the city whom he had met the previous day. They were playing poker and invited him to take a hand. Bill sat down at the table and said that in as much as they would not let him sleep, he wouldn't mind playing for a while. Provided they would post him a little in the game, for he didn't know much about it. At first he didn't play very well, intentionally making many blunders and asking numerous questions, but when morning came he was about seven hundred dollars ahead. Bill put the money in his pocket and just as he was leaving the room, he advised them never to wake a man up and invite him to play poker. Wild Bill remained with me until we reached Rochester. I met my family there and having bought some property in that city with the intention of making the place my home, I asked Bill not to cut up any of his capers, for I wanted the performance to go off smoothly, as I expected a large audience that evening. He of course promised to behave himself. When the curtain rose the house was crowded. The play proceeded finally until the Indian fight in the second act, when Bill amused himself by his old trick of singeing the legs of the supers. After the curtain dropped, the supers complained to me about it. Bill's conduct made me angry and I told them that he must either stop shooting the supers or leave the company. He made no reply but went to the dressing room and changed his buckskin suit for his citizen's dress and during one of my scenes I looked down in front and saw him elbowing his way through the audience and out of the theater. When I had finished the scene and had retired from the stage, the stage carpenter came up and said, that long-haired gentleman who passed out a few minutes ago requested me to tell you that you could go to thunder with your old show. That was the last time that Wild Bill and I ever performed together on the stage. After the evening's entertainment I met him at the Osborn house. By this time he had recovered from his mad fit and was in as good humor as ever. He had made up his mind to leave for the West the next day. I endeavored to persuade him to remain with me till spring and then we could go together, but it was of no use. I then paid him the money due him and Jack and myself made him a present of one thousand dollars besides. Bill went to New York the next day, intending to start West from there. Several days afterwards I learned that he had lost all his money in New York by playing pharaoh, also that a theatrical manager had engaged him to play. A company was organized and started out, but as a star Wild Bill was not a success. The further he went the poorer he got. This didn't suit Bill by any means and he accordingly retired from the stage. The company however kept on the road using Bill's name and employing an actor to represent him not only on the stage but on the street and elsewhere. Bill heard of this deception and sent word to the manager to stop it, but no attention was paid to his message. Finally Bill resolved to have satisfaction and he proceeded to a town where the company was to play. He entered the theater and took a seat near the stage and watched the performance until the bogus Wild Bill appeared. He then sprang upon the stage, knocked the actor clear through one of the scenes and grabbing the manager by the shoulders he threw him over the footlights into the orchestra. The other actors screamed and yelled police. The audience could not at first understand what it all meant, some of them supposing the affair to be a part of the play. Wild Bill retired from the stage in good order, resumed his seat, and told him to go on with their show. A policeman now appearing, Bill was pointed out as the Disturber of the Peace. The officer tapping him on the shoulder said, I'll have to arrest you sir. How many of you are there? asked Bill. Only myself, said the policeman. You had better get some help, said Bill. The officer then called up another policeman and Bill again asked, how many of you are there now? Two, was the reply. Gonna advise you to go out and get some more reinforcements, said Bill very coolly. The policeman thereupon spoke to the sheriff, who was dressed in citizens' clothes. The sheriff came up and said he would have to take him into custody. Alright sir, replied Bill. I have no objections to walking out with you, but I won't go with any two policemen. At the court next morning, Bill stated his reasons for having acted as he had done, and the judge fined him only three dollars in costs. This was the last time that Wild Bill appeared on the stage. He shortly afterwards returned to the West, and on arriving at Cheyenne, he visited Boulder's gambling room and sat down at a Pharaoh table. No one in the room recognized him, as he had not been in Cheyenne for several years. After losing two or three bets, he threw down a $50 bill and lost that also. Boulder quietly raked in the money. Bill placed a second $50 note on another card, when Boulder informed him that the limit was $25. You have just taken in a $50 bill which I lost, said Bill. Well, you needn't make any more such bets, as I will not go above my limit, replied Boulder. I'll just play that $50 bill as it lays. If it loses, it's yours. If it wins, you'll pay me $50, or I'll know the reason why. I am running this game, and I want no talk from you, sir, said Boulder. One word brought on another, until Boulder threatened to have Bill put out of the house. Bill was carrying the butt end of a billiard cue for a cane, and bending over the table, he said, he would rob a blind man. Then he suddenly tapped Boulder on the head with the cane, with such force as to knock him over. With another sweep of the cane, he tumbled the lookout from his chair, and then reaching over into the money drawer, he grabbed a handful of green backs and stuck them in his pocket. At this stage of the game, four or five men, who were employed as bouncers for the establishment to throw out the noisy persons, rushed up to capture Bill, but he knocked them right and left with his cane, and seeing the whole crowd was now closing in on him, he jumped into a corner, and with each hand drew a revolver and faced the enemy. At this moment, the barkeeper recognized him and sang out in a loud voice, look out boys, that's Wild Bill you've run against. That settled the matter, for when they heard the name of Wild Bill, they turned and beat a hasty retreat out of the doors and windows, and in less time than it takes to tell it, Wild Bill was the only man in the room. He coolly walked over to Dyer's hotel and retired for the night. Boulder claimed that he had taken five hundred dollars, but he really got only two hundred dollars. Boulder, upon learning that it was Wild Bill who had cleaned him out, said nothing more about the money. The next day, the two men met over a bottle of wine and settled their differences in an amicable manner. Poor Bill was afterwards killed at Deadwood in the Black Hills in a cowardly manner by a desperado who sneaked up behind him while he was playing a game of cards in a saloon, and shot him through the back of the head without the least provocation. The murderer, Jack McCall, was tried and hung at Yankton Dakota for the crime. Thus ended the career of a lifelong friend of mine who, in spite of his many faults, was a noble man, ever brave and generous-hearted. Jack and myself continued playing through the country after Wild Bill left us, and we finally closed our season in Boston on the thirteenth of May, 1874. This called me from Boston to New York, and after I had been there a few days, I met an English gentleman, Thomas P. Medley, of London, who had come to America for a hunt on the plains. He had often heard of me and was anxious to engage me as his guide and companion, and he offered to pay the liberal salary of one thousand dollars a month while I was with him. He was a very wealthy man as I learned upon inquiry and was a relative of Mr. Lorde, of the firm of Lorde and Taylor of New York. Of course I accepted his offer. When we reached the hunting ground in Nebraska, he informed me somewhat to my surprise that he did not want to go out as Alexis did with carriages, servants, and other luxuries, but that he wished to rough it just as I would do to sleep on the ground in the open air and kill and cook his own meat. We started out from North Platte and spent several weeks in hunting all over the county. Dr. W. F. Carver, who then resided at North Platte and who has recently acquired considerable notoriety as a rifle shot, hunted with us for a few days. Mr. Medley proved to be a very agreeable gentleman and an excellent hunter. While in camp, he busied himself in carrying wood and water, attending to the fire, and preparing and cooking the meals, never asking me to do a thing. He did not do this to save expenses, but because he wanted to do as the other hunters and the party were doing. After spending as much time as he wished, we returned to the railroad and he took the train for the east. Everything that was required on this hunt was paid for in the most liberal manner by Mr. Medley, who also gave the members of the party several handsome presents. About this time, an expedition consisting of seven companies of Calvary and two companies of Infantry to be commanded by Colonel Mills of the Third Calvary was being organized to scout the Powder River and Big Horn Country, and I was employed as guide for the command. According to Rawlins, Wyoming, we outfitted and other guides were engaged. Among them, Tom, Son, and Boney Ernest, two noted Rocky Mountain scouts. We there left the railroad and passing through the seminal range of the Rocky Mountains, we established our supply camp at the foot of Independence Rock on the Sweetwater. I was now on my old familiar stamping ground and it seemed like home to me. Fifteen years before, I had ridden the Pony Express and driven the overland stages through this region, and the command was going into the same section of Country where Wildbills' expedition of stage drivers and express riders had recaptured from the Indians a large number of stolen stage horses. Leaving the infantry to guard the supply camp, Colonel Mills struck out for the north with the seven companies of the Calvary. One day, while we were resting on a prairie near the head of Powder River, a horseman was seen in the distance approaching us. At first it was thought he was an Indian, but as he came near we saw that he was a white man, and finally when he rode up to us, I recognized him as California Joe, a noted scout and frontiersman who had spent many years in California on the plains and in the mountains. He was armed with a heavy old sharps rifle, a revolver, and a knife. I introduced him to Colonel Mills and the other officers and asked him where he was going. He replied that he was out for a morning ride only, but the fact was that he had been out prospecting alone for weeks along the foot of the big horn mountains. Having no permanent occupation just at that time, Joe accompanied us for two or three days when Colonel Mills suggested that I had better employ him as a scout so that he could make a little money for himself. Joe didn't seem to care whether I hired him or not, but I put him on the payroll and while he was with us, he drew his five dollars a day. It was worth the money to have him along for company's sake, for he was a droll character in his way and afforded us considerable amusement. We finally surprised Little Wolf's band of Arapahos and drove them into the agencies. We then scouted the Powder River, Crazy Woman's Fork, and Clear Fork, and then pushed westward through the mountains to the Wind River. After having been out for a month or two, we were ordered to return. I immediately went east and organized another dramatic company for the season of 1874-75, Texas Jack being absent in the Yellowstone Country, hunting with the Earl of Dunraven. I played my company in all the principal cities of the country, doing a good business wherever I went. The summer of 1875, I spent at Rochester with my family. For the season of 1875-6, Texas Jack and I reorganized our old combination and made a very successful tour. While we were playing at Springfield, Massachusetts, April 20th and 21st, 1876, a telegram was handed me just as I was going on to the stage. I opened it and found it to be from Colonel G. W. Torrance of Rochester, an intimate friend of the family who stated that my little boy kit was dangerously ill with the scarlet fever. This was indeed sad news, for little kit had always been my greatest pride. I sent for John Burke, our business manager, and showing him the telegram told him that I would play the first act and making a proper excuse to the audience, I would then take the nine o'clock train that same evening for Rochester, leaving him to play out my part. This I did, and at ten o'clock the next morning I arrived in Rochester and was met at the depot by my intimate friend, Moses Kerngood, who had once drove me to my home. I found my little boy unable to speak, but he seemed to recognize me, and putting his little arms around my neck, he tried to kiss me. We did everything in our power to save him, but it was of no avail. The Lord claimed his own, and that evening at six o'clock my beloved little kit died in my arms. We laid him away to rest in the beautiful cemetery of Mount Hope amid sorrow and tears. CHAPTER XXXXXX, I returned to the Plains. We closed our theatrical season earlier than usual in the spring of 1876, because I was anxious to take part in the Sioux War which was then breaking out. General Hills had written me several letters saying that General Crook was anxious to have me accompany his command, and I promised to do so, intending to overtake him in the Powder River Country. But when I arrived at Chicago, on my way west, I learned that my old regiment, the Gallant Fifth Calvary, was on its way back from Arizona to join General Crook, and that my old commander, General Carr, was in command. He had written to military headquarters at Chicago to learn my whereabouts, as he wished to secure me as his guide and chief of scouts. I then gave up the idea of overtaking General Crook, and hastening on to Cheyenne, where the Fifth Calvary had already arrived, I was met at the depot by Lieutenant King, adjutant of the regiment, he having been sent down from Fort D. A. Russell for that purpose by General Carr, who had learned by a telegram from military headquarters at Chicago that I was on the way. I accompanied the Lieutenant on horseback to the camp, and as we rode up, one of the boys shouted, Here's Buffalo Bill. Soon after, there came three hearty cheers from the regiment. Officers and men all were glad to see me, and I was equally delighted to meet them once more. The general at once appointed me his guide and chief of scouts. The next morning, the command pulled out for Fort Laramie, and on reaching that post, we found General Sheridan there, accompanied by General Frye and General Forsythe, in route to Red Cloud Agency. As the command was to remain here a few days, I accompanied General Sheridan to Red Cloud and back, taking a company of Calvary as escort. The Indians, having recently committed a great many depredations on the Black Hills Road, the Fifth Calvary was sent out to scout the country between the Indian agencies and the hills. The command operated on the south fork of the Cheyenne, and at the foot of the Black Hills for about two weeks, having several small engagements with roving bands of Indians during the time. General Wesley Merritt, who had lately received his promotion to the Colonel's Sea of the Fifth Calvary, now came out and took control of the regiment. I was sorry that the command was taken from General Carr, because under him it had made its fighting reputation. However, upon becoming acquainted with General Merritt, I found him to be an excellent officer. The regiment, by continued scouting, soon drove the Indians out of that section of the country as we supposed, and we had started on our way back to Fort Laramie when a scout arrived at the camp and reported the massacre of General Custer and his band of heroes on the Little Bighorn on the 25th of June, 1876. And he also brought orders to General Merritt to proceed at once to Fort Fetterman and join General Crook in the Bighorn country. Colonel Stanton, who was with the Fifth Calvary on his scout, had been sent to Red Cloud Agency two days before, and that same evening, a scout arrived, bringing a message from him that 800 Cheyenne warriors had that day left the Red Cloud Agency to join Sitting Bull's hostile forces in the Bighorn region. Notwithstanding the instructions to proceed immediately to join General Crook by the way of Fort Fetterman, Colonel Merritt took the responsibility of endeavoring to intercept the Cheyennes, and as the sequel shows, he performed a very important service. He selected 500 men and horses, and in two hours we were making a force march back to Hat or Warbonnet Creek, the intention being to reach the main Indian trail running to the north across the creek before the Cheyennes could get there. We arrived there the next night, and at daylight the following morning, July 17th, 1876, I went out on a scout and found that the Indians had not yet crossed the creek. On my way back to the command, I discovered a large party of Indians, which proved to be the Cheyennes, coming up from the south, and I hurried to the camp with this important information. The cavalrymen quietly mounted their horses and were ordered to remain out of sight, while General Merritt, accompanied by two or three aides and myself, went out on a little tour of observation to a neighboring hill, from the summit of which we saw the Indians were approaching almost directly towards us. Presently, 15 or 20 of them dashed off to the west in the direction from which we had come the night before, and upon closer observation with our field glasses, we discovered two mounted soldiers, evidently carrying dispatches for us, pushing forward on our trail. The Indians were evidently endeavoring to intercept these two men, and General Merritt feared that they would accomplish their object. He did not think it advisable to send out any soldiers to the assistance of the couriers, for fear that would show to the Indians that there were troops in the vicinity who were waiting for them. I finally suggested that the best plan was to wait until the couriers came closer to the command, and then, just as the Indians were about to charge, to let me take the scouts and cut them off from the main body of the Cheyennes, who were coming over the divide. All right, Cody, said the General, if you can do that, go ahead. I rushed back to the command, jumped on my horse, picked out fifteen men, and returned with them to the point of observation. I told General Merritt to give us the word to start out at the proper time, and presently he sang out, go in now, Cody, and be quick about it. They are going to charge on the couriers. The two messengers were not over four hundred yards from us, and the Indians were only about two hundred yards behind them. We instantly dashed over the bluffs and advanced on a gallop towards the Indians. A runny fight lasted several minutes, during which we drove the enemy some little distance and killed three of their number. The rest of them rode off towards the main body, which had come into plain sight and halted upon seeing the skirmish that was going on. We were about half a mile from General Merritt, and the Indians whom we were chasing suddenly turned upon us, and another lively skirmish took place. One of the Indians, who was handsomely decorated, with all the ornaments, usually worn by a war chief when engaged in a fight, sang out to me in his own tongue, I know you, Pahihashka, if you want to fight, come ahead and fight me. The chief was riding his horse back and forth in front of his men, as if to banter me, and I concluded to accept the challenge. I galloped towards him for fifty yards, and he advanced towards me about the same distance, both of us riding at full speed, and then when we were only about thirty yards apart, I raised my rifle and fired. His horse fell to the ground, having been killed by my bullet. Almost at the same instant my own horse went down, he having stepped into a hole. The fall did not hurt me much, and I instantly sprang to my feet. The Indian had also recovered himself, and we were now both on foot, and not more than twenty paces apart. We fired at each other simultaneously. My usual luck did not desert me on this occasion, for his bullet missed me while mine struck him in the breast. He reeled and fell, but before he had fairly touched the ground I was upon him, knife in hand, and had driven the keen-edged weapon to its hilt in his heart. Jerking his war bonnet off, I scientifically scalped him in about five seconds. The whole affair, from beginning to end, occupied but little time, and the Indians, seeing that I was some little distance from my company, now came charging down upon me from a hill in hopes of cutting me off. General Merritt had witnessed the duel, and realizing the danger I was in, ordered Colonel Mason, with Company K, to hurry to my rescue. The order came none too soon, for had it been given one minute later, I would have had not less than two hundred Indians upon me. As the soldiers came up, I swung the Indian chieftain's topknot and bonnet in the air and shouted, the first scout for Custer. General Merritt, seeing that he could not now ambush the Indians, ordered the whole regiment to charge upon them. They made a stubborn resistance for a little while, but it was of no use for any 800 or even 1600 Indians to try and check a charge of the Gallant Old Fifth Calvary, and they soon came to that conclusion and began a running retreat towards Red Cloud Agency. For 35 miles we drove them, pushing them so hard that they were obliged to abandon their loose horses, their camp equippage, and everything else. We drove them into the Agency, and followed in ourselves, notwithstanding the possibility of our having to encounter the thousands of Indians at that point. We were uncertain whether or not the other Agency Indians had determined to follow the example of the Cheyennes and strike out upon the Warpath, but that made no difference with the Fifth Calvary, for they would have fought them all if necessary. It was dark when we rode into the Agency, where we found thousands of Indians collected together, but they manifested no disposition to fight. While at the Agency I learned the name of the Indian chief whom I had killed in the morning. It was Yellowhand, a son of old Cutnose, a leading chief of the Cheyennes. Cutnose, having learned that I had killed his son, sent a white interpreter to me with a message to the effect that he would give me four mules if I would turn over to him Yellowhand's war bonnet, guns, pistols, ornaments, and other paraphernalia which I had captured. I sent back word to the old gentleman that it would give me pleasure to accommodate him, but I could not do it this time. The next morning we started to join General Cook, who was camp near the foot of Cloud Peak in the Big Horn Mountains, awaiting the arrival of the Fifth Calvary before proceeding against the Sioux, who were somewhere near the head of the Little Big Horn as his scouts informed him. We made rapid marches and reached General Cook's camp on Goose Creek about the 3rd of August. At this camp I met many old friends, among whom was Colonel Royal, who had received his promotion to the Lieutenant Colonelcy of the Third Calvary. He introduced me to General Cook, whom I had never met before, but of whom I had often heard. He also introduced me to the General's Chief Guide, Frank Groward, a half-breed, who had lived six years with Sitting Bull and knew the country thoroughly. We remained in this camp only one day, and then the whole troop pulled out for the Tung River, leaving our wagons behind, but taking with us a large pack train. We marched down the Tung River for two days, thence in a westerly direction over to the Rosebud, where we struck the main Indian trail leading down this stream. From the size of the trail, which appeared to be about four days old, we estimated that there must have been in the neighborhood of seven thousand Indians who had made the broad trail. At this point we were overtaken by Jack Crawford, familiarly known as Captain Jack, the poet scout of the Black Hills, and right here I will insert the following lines written by him just after the Custer massacre upon receiving from me the following dispatch. Jack, old boy, have you heard of the death of Custer? Custer's death. Did I hear the news from Custer? Well, I reckon I did, old Pard. It came like a streak of lightning, and you bet it hit me hard. I ain't no hand of blubber, and the briny ain't run for years, but chalk me down for a lubber if I didn't shed regular tears. What for? Now look you hear, Bill. You're a bully, boy, that's true. As good as air wore a buckskin, or fought with the boys in blue. But I'll bet my bottom dollar he had no trouble to muster, a tear, or perhaps a hundred, at the news of the death of Custer. He always thought well of you, Pard, and had it been Heaven's will, in a few more days you'd met him, and he'd welcome his old scout Bill. For if you remember at Hat Creek, I met you with General Carr. We talked of the brave young Custer, and recounted his deeds of war. But little we knew even then, Pard, and that's just two weeks ago, how little we dreamed of disaster, or that he had met the foe. That the fearless reckless hero, so loved by the whole frontier, had died on the field of battle, in this our centennial year. I served with him in the army in the darkest days of the war, and I reckon you know his record, for he was our guiding star, and the boys who gathered round him, to charge in the early morn, wore just like the brave who perished with him on the little horn. And where is the satisfaction, and how will the boys get square, by giving the Reds more rifles, invite them to take more hair? We want no scouts, no trappers, nor men who know the frontier. Feel, old boy, you're mistaken. We must have the volunteer. Never mind the two hundred thousand, but give us a hundred instead. Send five thousand men towards Reno, and soon we won't leave a Red. It will save Uncle Sam lots of money, and fortress we need not invest. Just wall up the devils this summer, and the miners will do all the rest. The Black Hills are filled with miners, the big horn will soon be as full, and which will show the most danger to crazy horse and old sitting bull. A band of ten thousand frontier men, or a couple of forts with a few, of the boys in the east now enlisting, friend Cody I leave it with you. They talk of peace with these demons by feeding and clothing them well. I'd as soon think an angel from heaven would reign with contentment in hell. And one day the Quakers will answer, before the great Judge of us all, for the death of daring young Custer and the boys who round him did fall. Perhaps I am judging them harshly, but I mean what I'm telling you, Pard. I'm letting them down mighty easy. Perhaps they may think it is hard. But I tell you the day is approaching. The boys are beginning to muster. That day of great retribution, the day of revenge for our Custer. And I will be with you friend Cody. My weight will go in with the boys. I shared all their hardships last winter. I shared all their sorrows and joys. Tell them I'm coming friend William. I trust I will meet you ere long. Regards to the boys in the mountains. Here's ever in friendship still strong. Jack was a new man in the country, but evidently had plenty of nerve and pluck, as he had brought dispatches from Fort Fetterman, a distance of 300 miles through a dangerous Indian country. The dispatches were for General Crook, and notified him that General Terry was to operate with a large command south of the Yellowstone, and that the two commands would probably consolidate somewhere on the Rosebud. Jack at once hunted me up and gave me a letter from General Sheridan, informing me that he had appointed him, Jack, as one of the scouts. While we were conversing, Jack informed me that he had brought me a present from Colonel Jones of Cheyenne, and that he had it in his saddle pockets. Asking the nature of the gift, he replied that it was only a bottle of good whiskey. I placed my hand over his mouth and told him to keep still, and not to whisper it even to the winds, for there were too many dry men around us, and only when alone with him did I dare to have him take the treasure from his saddle pockets. In this connection I may remark that Jack Crawford is the only man I have ever known that could have brought that bottle of whiskey through without accident befalling it, for he is one of the very few tea-total scouts I ever met. Not wishing to have a game of whiskey solitaire, I invited General Carr to sample the bottle with me. We soon found a secluded spot, and dismounting, we thought we were going to have a nice little drink all by ourselves, when who should write up but Mr. Lathrop, the reporter of the Associated Press of the Pacific Slope, to whom we had given the name of the Death Rattler, and who was also known in San Francisco as the man with the iron jaw, he having, with the true nose of a reporter, smelt the whiskey from afar off and had come to interview it. He was a good fellow with all, and we were glad to have him join us. Now to resume. For two or three days we pushed on, but we did not seem to gain much on the Indians, as they were evidently making about the same marches that we were. On the fourth or fifth morning of our pursuit, I wrote ahead of the command about ten miles, and mounting a hill, I scanned the country far and wide with my field glass, and discovered an immense column of dust rising about ten miles farther down the creek. And soon I noticed a body of men marching towards me, that at first I believed to be the Indians of whom we were in pursuit, but subsequently they proved to be General Terry's command. I sent backward to that affected General Crook by a scout who had accompanied me, but after he had departed I observed a band of Indians on the opposite side of the creek, and also another party directly in front of me. This led me to believe that I had made a mistake. But shortly afterwards my attention was attracted by the appearance of a body of soldiers who were forming into a skirmish line, and then I became convinced that it was General Terry's command after all, and that the Redskins whom I had seen were some of his friendly Indian scouts, who had mistaken me for a Sioux, and fled back to their command, terribly excited, shouting, the Sioux are coming. General Terry at once came to the post and ordered the Seventh Calvary to form line of battle across the Rosebud. He also ordered up his artillery and had them prepare for action, doubtless dreading another Custer Massacre. I afterwards learned the Indians had seen the dust raised by General Crook's forces, and had reported that the Sioux were coming. These maneuvers I witnessed from my position with considerable amusement, thinking the command must be badly demoralized when one man could cause a whole company to form line of battle and prepare for action. Having enjoyed the situation to my heart's content, I galloped down towards the skirmish line, waving my hat, and went within about one hundred yards of the troops. Colonel Weir of the Seventh Calvary galloped out and met me. He recognized me at once and accompanied me inside the line, then he sang out, Boys, here's Buffalo Bill. Some of you old soldiers know him, give him a cheer. Thereupon the regiment gave three rousing cheers and it was followed up all along the line. Colonel Weir presented me to General Terry, and in answer to his questions I informed him that the alarm of Indians which had been given was a false one, as the dust seen by his scouts was caused by General Crook's troops. General Terry thereupon rode forward to meet General Crook and I accompanied him at his request. That night both commands went into camp on the Rosebud. General Terry had his wagon trained with him and everything to make life comfortable on an Indian campaign. He had large walled tents and portable beds to sleep in and large hospital tents for dining rooms. His camp looked very comfortable and attractive and presented a great contrast to that of General Crook, who had for his headquarters only one small fly tent and whose cooking utensils consisted of a quart cup in which he made his coffee himself and a stick upon which he broiled his bacon. When I compared the two camps I came to the conclusion that General Crook was an Indian fighter, for it was evident that he had learned that to follow and fight Indians a body of men must travel lightly and not be detained by a wagon train or heavy luggage of any kind. That evening General Terry ordered General Miles to take his regiment, the Fifth Infantry, and returned by a force march to the Yellowstone and proceed down that river by steamboat to the mouth of the Powder River to intercept the Indians in case they attempted to cross the Yellowstone. General Miles made a force march that night of 35 miles which was splendid traveling for an infantry regiment through a mountainous country. General's Crook and Terry spent that evening and the next day in council and on the following morning both commands moved out on the Indian trail. Although General Terry was a senior officer he did not assume command of both expeditions but left General Crook in command of his own troops although they operated together. We crossed the Tong River to Powder River and proceeded down the latter stream to a point 20 miles from its junction with the Yellowstone where the Indian trail turned to the southeast in the direction of the Black Hills. The two commands now being nearly out of supplies, the trail was abandoned and the troops kept on down Powder River to its confluence with the Yellowstone and remained there several days. Here we met General Miles who reported that no Indians had as yet crossed the Yellowstone. Several steamboats soon arrived with a large quantity of supplies and once more the boys in blue were made happy. End of chapter 30. Chapter 31 of the Life of Honorable William F. Cody This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Barry Eads. The Life of Honorable William F. Cody by William F. Cody Chapter 31 Dangerous Work One evening while we were in camp on the Yellowstone at the mouth of Powder River, I was informed that the commanding officers had selected Louis Richard, a half-breed, and myself to accompany General Miles on a scouting expedition on the steamer far west down the Yellowstone as far as Glen Dive Creek. We were to ride on the pilot house and keep a sharp lookout on both sides of the river for Indian trails that might have crossed the stream. The idea of scouting on a steamboat was indeed a novel one to me and I anticipated a pleasant trip. At daylight next morning we reported on board the steamer to General Mills who had with him four or five companies of his regiment. We were somewhat surprised when he asked us where our horses were as we had not supposed that horses would be needed if the scouting was to be done on the steamer. He said we might need them before we got back and thereupon had the animals brought on board. In a few minutes we were booming down the river at the rate of about 20 miles an hour. The steamer far west was commanded by Captain Grant Marsh whom I found to be a brick. I had often heard of him for he was and is yet one of the best known river captains in the country. He it was who with his steamer the far west transported the wounded men from the battle of the Little Bighorn to Fort Abraham Lincoln on the Missouri River and on that trip he made the fastest steamboat time on record. He was a skillful and experienced pilot handling his boat with remarkable dexterity. While Richard and myself were at our stations on the pilot house the steamer with a full head of steam went flying past islands around bends over sandbars at a rate that was exhilarating. Presently I thought I could see horses grazing in a distant bend of the river and I reported the fact to General Mills who asked Captain Marsh if he could land the boat near a large tree which he pointed out to him. Yes sir I can land her there and make her climb the tree if necessary said he. On reaching the spot designated General Mills ordered two companies ashore while Richard and myself were ordered to take our horses off the boat and push out as rapidly as possible to see if there were Indians in the vicinity. While we were getting ashore Captain Marsh remarked that if there was only a good heavy dew on the grass he would shoot the steamer ashore and take us on the scout without the trouble of leaving the boat. It was a false alarm however as the objects we had seen proved to be Indian graves. Quite a large number of braves who had probably been killed in some battle had been buried on scaffolds according to the Indian custom and some of their clothing had been torn loose from the bodies by the wolves and was waving in the air. On arriving at Glendive Creek we found that Colonel Rice and his company of the Fifth Infantry who had been sent there by General Mills had built quite a good little fort with their trial bayonets a weapon which Colonel Rice was the inventor of and which is by the way a very useful implement of war as it can be used for a shovel and throwing up entrenchments and can be profitably utilized in several other ways. On the day previous to our arrival Colonel Rice had a fight with a party of Indians and had killed two or three of them at long range with his Rodman cannon. The far west was to remain at Glendive overnight and General Mills wished to send dispatches back to General Terry at once. At his request I took the dispatches and rode seventy-five miles that night through the badlands of the Yellow Stone and reached General Terry's camp next morning after having nearly broken my neck a dozen times or more. There being but little prospect of any more fighting I determined to go east as soon as possible to organize a new dramatic combination and have a new drama written for me based upon the Sioux War. This I knew would be a paying investment as the Sioux campaign had excited considerable interest so I started down the river on the steamery Yellowstone and route to Fort Beauford. On the same morning General Terry and Crook pulled out for the Powder River to take up the old Indian Trail which we had recently left. The steamer had proceeded down the stream about 20 miles when it was met by another boat on its way up the river having on board General Whistler and some fresh troops for General Terry's command. Both boats landed and almost the first person I met was my old friend and partner Texas Jack who had been sent out as a dispatch carrier for the New York Herald. General Whistler upon learning that General Terry had left the Yellowstone asked me to carry to him some important dispatches from General Sheridan and although I objected he insisted upon my performing this duty saying that it would only detain me a few hours longer. As an extra inducement he offered me the use of his own thoroughbred horse which was on the boat. I finally consented to go and was soon speeding over the rough and hilly country towards Powder River and I delivered the dispatches to General Terry that same evening. General Whistler's horse although a good animal was not used to such hard writing and was far more exhausted by the journey than I was. After I had taken a lunch General Terry asked me if I would carry some dispatches back to General Whistler and I replied that I would. Captain Smith, General Terry's aide to camp, offered me his horse for the trip and it proved to be an excellent animal for I rode him that same night 40 miles over the Badlands in four hours and reached General Whistler's steamboat at one o'clock. During my absence the Indians had made their appearance on the different hills in a vicinity and the troops from the boat had had several skirmishes with them. When General Whistler had finished reading the dispatches he said, Cody I want to send information to General Terry concerning the Indians who have been skirmishing around here all day. I have been trying all the evening long to induce someone to carry my dispatches to him but no one seems willing to undertake the trip and I have got to fall back on you. It is asking a great deal I know as you have just ridden 80 miles but it is a case of necessity and if you go Cody I'll see that you are well paid for it. Never mind about the pay said I but get your dispatches ready and I'll start it once. In a few minutes he handed me the package and mounting the same horse which I had ridden from General Terry's camp I struck out from my destination. It was two o'clock in the morning when I left the boat and at eight o'clock I rode into General Terry's camp just as he was about to march having made 120 miles in 22 hours. General Terry after reading the dispatches halted his command and then rode on and overtook General Crook with whom he held a council. The result was that Crook's command moved on in the direction which they had been pursuing while Terry's forces marched back to the Yellowstone and crossed the river on steamboats. At the urgent request of General Terry I accompanied the command on a scout in the direction of the dry fork of the Missouri where it was expected we would strike some Indians. The first march out from the Yellowstone was made in the night as we wished to get into the hills without being discovered by the Sioux Scouts. After marching three days a little to the east of north we reached the Buffalo range and discovered fresh signs of Indians who had evidently been killing buffaloes. General Terry now called on me to carry dispatches to Colonel Rice who was still camped at the mouth of Glen Dive Creek on the Yellowstone distant about 80 miles from us. Night had set in with a storm and a drizzling rain was falling when at 10 o'clock I started on this ride through a section of country with which I was entirely unacquainted. I traveled through the darkness a distance of about 35 miles and at daylight I rode into a secluded spot at the head of a ravine where stood a bunch of ash trees and there I concluded to remain till night for I considered it a dangerous undertaking to cross the wide prairies in broad daylight especially as my horse was a poor one. I accordingly unsettled my animal and ate a hearty breakfast of bacon and hardtack which I had stored in the saddle pockets. Then after taking a smoke I lay down to sleep with my saddle for a pillow and a few minutes I was in the land of dreams. After sleeping some time I can't tell how long I was suddenly awakened by a roaring rumbling sound. I instantly seized my gun sprang to my horse and hurriedly secreted him in the brush. Then I climbed up on the steep side of the bank and cautiously looked over the summit. In the distance I saw a large herd of buffaloes which were being chased and fired by 20 or 30 Indians. Occasionally a buffalo would drop out of the herd but the Indians kept on until they had killed 10 or 15. They then turned back and began to cut up their game. I saddled my horse and tied him to a small tree where I could reach him conveniently in case the Indians should discover me by finding my trail and following it. I then crawled carefully back to the summit of the bluff and in a concealed position watched the Indians for two hours during which time they were occupied in cutting up the buffaloes and packing the meat on their ponies. When they had finished this work they rode off in the direction once they had come and on the line which I had proposed to travel. It appeared evident to me that their camp was located somewhere between me and Glendive Creek but I had no idea of abandoning the trip on that account. I waited till nightfall before resuming my journey and then I bore off to the east for several miles and by making a semicircle to avoid the Indians I got back on my original course and then pushed on rapidly to Colonel Rice's camp which I reached just at daylight. Colonel Rice had been fighting Indians almost every day since he had been in camp at this point and he was very anxious to notify General Terry of the fact. Of course I was requested to carry his dispatches. After remaining at Glendive a single day I started back to find General Terry and on the third day out I overhauled him at the head of Deer Creek while on his way to Colonel Rice's camp. He was not however going in the right direction but bearing too far to the east and so I informed him. He then asked me to guide the command and I did so. On arriving at Glendive I bade goodbye to the General and his officers and took passage on the steamer far west which was on her way down the Missouri. At Bismarck I left the steamer and proceeded by rail to Rochester, New York where I met my family. Mr. J. Clinton Hall manager of the Rochester Opera House was very anxious to have me play an engagement at his theater. I agreed to open the season with him as soon as I had got my drama written and I did so meeting with an enthusiastic reception. My new drama was arranged for the stage by J. V. Arlington the actor. It was a five act play without head or tail and it made no difference at which act we commenced the performance. Before we had finished the season several newspaper critics I have been told went crazy in trying to follow the plot. It afforded us however ample opportunity to give a noisy rattling gunpowder entertainment and to present a succession of scenes in the late Indian War all of which seemed to give general satisfaction. From Rochester I went to New York and played a very successful engagement at the Grand Opera House under the management of messengers Poole and Donnelly. Thence my route took me to all the principal cities in the Eastern, Western and Middle States and I everywhere met with crowded houses. I then went to the Pacific Coast against the advice of friends who gave it as their opinion that my style of plays would not take very well in California. I opened for an engagement of two weeks at the Bush Street Theater in San Francisco at a season when the theatrical business was dull and Ben Debar and the Linguards were playing there to empty seats. I expected to play to a slim audience on the opening night but instead of that I had a $1,400 house. Such was my success that I continued my engagement for five weeks and the theater was crowded at every performance. Upon leaving San Francisco I made a circuit of the interior towns and closed the season at Virginia City, Nevada. On my way east I met my family at Denver where they were visiting my sisters Nellie and May who were then residing there. Sometime previously I had made arrangements to go into the cattle business and company with my old friend Major Frank North and while I was in California he had built our ranches on the south fork of the Dismal River 65 miles north of North Plat in Nebraska. Proceeding to Agalala the headquarters of the Texas cattle drovers I found Major North there awaiting me and together we bought branded and drove to our ranches our first installment of cattle. This occupied us during the remainder of the summer. Leaving the cattle in charge of Major North I visited Red Cloud Agency early in the fall and secured some Sioux Indians to accompany me on my theatrical tour of 1877-78. Taking my family and the Indians with me I went directly to Rochester. There I left my oldest daughter Arda at a young lady's seminary while my wife and youngest child traveled with me during the season. I opened at the Bowery Theater New York September 3rd, 1877 with a new border drama entitled May Cody or Lost and One from the pen of Major A. S. Burke of the United States Army. It was founded on the incidents of the Mountain Meadow Massacre and life among the Mormons. It was the best drama I had yet produced and proved a grand success both financially and artistically. The season of 1877-78 proved to be the most profitable one I had ever had. In February 1878 my wife became tired of traveling and proceeded to North Platte, Nebraska where on our farm or joining the town she personally superintended the erection of a comfortable family residence and had it all completed when I reached there early in May. In this house we are now living and we hope to make it our home for many years to come. After my arrival at North Platte I found that the ranchmen or cattlemen had organized a regular annual roundup to take place in the spring of the year. The word roundup is derived from the fact that during the winter months the cattle become scattered over a vast track of land and the ranchmen assembled together in the spring to sort out and each secure his own stock. They form a large circle often of a circumference of 200 miles and drive the cattle towards a common center where all the stock being branded each owner can readily separate his own from the general herd and then he drives them to his own ranch. In this cattle driving business is exhibited some most magnificent horsemanship for the cowboys as they are called are invariably skillful and fearless horsemen. In fact only a most expert rider could be a cowboy as it requires the greatest dexterity and daring in the saddle to cut a wild steer out of the herd. Major North was awaiting me upon my arrival at North Platte having with him our own horses and men. Other cattle owners such as Keith and Barton, Coe and Carter, Jack Pratt, the Walker Brothers, Guy and Sim, Lang, Arnold and Richie, and a great many others with their outfits were assembled and were ready to start on the roundup. My old friend Dave Perry who had presented Buckskin Joe to me and who resided at North Platte was most anxious to go with us for pleasure and Frank North told him he could and have plenty of fun provided he would furnish his own horses provisions and bedding and do the usual work required of a cowboy. This Dave was willing to undertake. We found him to be a good fellow in camp and excellent company. As there is nothing but hard work on these roundups having to be in the saddle all day and standing guard over the cattle at night rain or shine I could not possibly find out where the fun came in that North had promised me. But it was an exciting life and the days sped rapidly by. In six weeks we found ourselves at our own ranch on Dismal River the roundup having proved a great success as we had found all our cattle and driven them home. This work being over I proposed to spend a few weeks with my family at North Platte for the purpose of making better their acquaintance for my long and continued absence from home made me a comparative stranger under my own roof tree. One great source of pleasure to me was that my wife was delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far west. Soon after my arrival my sisters Nellie and May came to make us a visit and a delightful time we all had during their stay. When they left us I accompanied them to their home in Denver, Colorado where I passed several days visiting old friends and scenes. Returning to Ogallala I purchased from Bill Phant an extensive cattle drover from Texas a herd of cattle which I drove to my ranch on the Dismal River after which I bade my partner and the boys goodbye and started for the Indian Territory to procure Indians for my dramatic combination for the season of 1878-79. On route to the territory I paid a long promise visit to my sisters Julia, Mrs. J. A. Goodman, and Eliza, Mrs. George M. Myers who reside in Kansas. The state which the reader will remember was my boyhood home. Having secured my Indian actors and along with them Mr. O. A. Burgess a government interpreter and Ed A. Burgess known as the Boy Chief of the Pawnees I started for Baltimore where I organized my combination and which was the largest troop I had yet had on the road. Opening in that city at the Opera House under the management of Hon. John T. Ford and then started on a southern tour playing in Washington, Richmond and as far south as Savannah, Georgia where we were brought to a sudden halt owing to the yellow fever which was then cruelly raging in the beautiful cities of the land of the cotton and the cane. While playing in Washington I suddenly learned from a reporter Washington newspaper men know everything that my Indians were to be seized by the government and sent back to their agency. Finding that there was foundation for the rumor I at once sought General Carl Shures Secretary of the Interior and asked him if he intended depriving me of my Indian actors. He said that he did as the Indians were away from their reservation without leave. I answered that I had had Indians with me the year before and nothing had been said about it. But Commissioner Haight replied that the Indians were the wards of the government and were not allowed off of their reservation. I told the commissioner that the Indians were frequently off of their reservations out west as I had a distinct remembrance of meeting them upon several occasions on the warpath. And furthermore I thought I was benefiting the Indians as well as the government by taking them all over the United States and giving them a correct idea of the customs, life, etc. of the pale faces so that when they returned to their people they could make known all they had seen. After a conversation with the Secretary of the Interior the commissioner concluded to allow me to retain the Indians by appointing me Indian Agent provided I would give the necessary bonds and pledge myself to return them in safety to their agency which terms I agreed to. From Savannah, Georgia having changed my route on account of the yellow fever I jumped my entire company to Philadelphia and at once continued on a northeastern tour having arranged with the well-known author and dramatist Colonel Prentice Ingraham to write a play for me. The drama entitled The Night of the Plains or Buffalo Bill's Best Trail was first produced at New Haven, Connecticut. It has proved a great success and I expect to play it in England where I propose to go next season on a theatrical tour having been urged to do so by my many friends abroad. After a successful tour of six weeks on the Pacific slope thus ending the season of 1878-79 I met my home at North Platte, Nebraska for the summer and thus ends the account of my career as far as it has gone.