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Buffalo Bill Making His Char acteristic "Entrance" in His iTT"l 1 TT T CI IT T Best Renumbered by Admiring Multitudes in America and Europe, (and Before the Great Chief Turned "Bad. WPH the passing of "Buffalo Bill" disappears the one grcal, vivid personality which re mained as a living link between the present generation and the courageous picturesque founders of that now rich and civilized American empire thai was the "Wild West" As an actuality, ex cept in the pages of history and ro mance, the Wild West itself passes with (he champion pony express rider, Indian fighter, Government scout, buffalo hunter and world-celebrated showman who. re-created the stirring scenes of those times in his "Wild West Show" William F. Cody. Just at this time, with the mighty hunter and Indian fighter so lately laid to rest, the following episodes in his career, from his own pen, are particu larly fascinating. They are extracted from Buffalo Bill's reminiscences, now running serially in Hearst's Magazine, beginning with the issue of August, 1916. FATHER died in our litUe log house, the first man to shed his blood in the fight against the extension of slavery into the northern territories. I was eleven years old, and the only man of the family. I made up my mind to be a breadwinner. At that time the fort was full of war like preparations. A great number of troops were being assembled to send against the Mormons. Many of the sol diers had already pushed on ahead. Russell, Majors Waddell were award ed the contract for taking them supplies end beef cattle. They gave me my first job. Bill McCarthy, boss of the outfit, was a typical westerner rough but courageous. We progressed peacefully enough till we made Plum Creek, thirty-six miles west of Fort Kearney, on the J5outh Platte. We were nooning at T'lum Creek, the cattle spread ont over the prairie to graze in charge of two herd ers. Suddenly there was a sharp Bang! Bang! and a thunder of hoofs. "Indians! They've shot the herders and stampeded the cattle!" cried Mc Carthy. "Get under the banks of the river, boys use 'em for a breastwork!" We obeyed orders quickly. The Platte, a wide, shallow, muddy stream, flows under banks which vary from five to thirty feet in height. Darkness came, and I still toiled along. The men ahead were almost out of hear ing. PresenUy the moon rose, dead ahead of me. And, painted boldly across its face, was the black figure of an Indian. There could be no mistaking him for a white man. He wore the war-bonnet of the Sioux, and at his shoulder was a rifle, pointed at someone in the bottom be low him. I knew well enough that in another second he would drop one of my friends. So I raised my Yaeger and fired. I saw the figure collapse, and heard it come tumbling thirty feet down the bank, landing with a splash In the water. McCarthy and the rest of the party, hearing the shot, came back in a hurry. "What is it?" asked McCarthy when he came up to me. "I don't know," I said. "Whatever it is, it is down there in the water." McCarthy ran over to the brave. -Hi!" he cried. "Little Billy s killed an Indian all by himself!" The news of my exploit was noised about and made me the envy of all the boys of the neighborhood. The Leaven worth "Times," published by D. R. An thony, sent a reporter to get the story of the adventure, and in it my name was printed for the first time as the youngest Indian slayer on the Plains. I was persuaded now that I was des tined to lead a life on the Plains. In His First Indian Fight, Barricaded by Three Dead Mules, When He Was Eleven iears Old In His a JSSstetlon from "The Great West That Was" in Hearst's Magazine. r And AwS William F. Codv as an Army Scout Shortly After the Civil War Closed. Above) Cody and Sitting Bull- That Spring my former boss. Lew Simson, was busily organizing a "light ning bull team" for his employers, Rus sell. Majors & Waddell. Albert Sidney Johnston's soldiers, then moving West, needed supplies, and needed them In a hurry. Thus far the mule was the rein deer of draft animals, and mule trains were forming to hurry the needful sup plies to the soldiers. But Simpson had great faith in the bull. A picked bull train, he allowed, could beat a mule train all hollow on a long haul. I was to be an extra hand which meant that by turns I was to be bull-whacker, driver," and general-utility man. We had accomplished about half our journey with no sign of hostile Indians. Then one day, as Simpson. George Woods and T were riding ahead to over take the lead train, a party of Sioux bore down on us. plainly intent on mischief. There was little time to act. No cove of any kind was to bo had. For us three, even with our rifles, to have stood up against the Sioux in the open would have been suicide. Simpson had been trained to think quickly. Swinging the three mules so that they formed a triangle, he drew his six-shooter and dropped them where they stood. "Now there's a little cover, boys," he said, and we all made ready for the attack. Our plan of defense was now made for us. First rifles, then, at closer quarters, revolvers. If it came to a hand-to-hand conflict we had our knives as a last resort The Sioux drew up when they saw how quickly Simpson's wit hadbuilt a barri cade for us. Then the arrows began to fly and among them spattered a few bullet3. Down came the Indians, with the blood curding yell which is always a feature of their military strategy. We waited till thev eot well within range. Then at Simpson's order wc fired. Threp ponies galloped riderless over the prairie, -md opyrisht, 1017. by the Star Companr. Anecdotes and Tknllmg Incidents Now Being Published By Hearst's Magazine m tke Remarkable Memoirs of tke Famous American Scout Vko Has Just Crossed Over Life s Great Divide fSt Tii TT 1 tin IT 'iM i " n M I r tin If T n I ii .-XA T 't ,STi l our besiegers hesitated, then wheeled, and rode out of range. But our rest was short Back they came. Again we fired, and had the good fortune to stop three more of them. Simpson patted me encouragingly on the shoulder. "You're all right, Billy!" he said, and his praise was music to my ears. By this time our poor dead mules, who had given their lives for ours, were stuck full of arrows. Woods had been winged in the shoulder. Our enemies were still circling, just out of range. Here and there when they grew incautious we dropped a man or a pony. But we were still heavily outnumbered. They knew it and we knew it. Unless help came it was only a question of time till It was all over. Daylight came and they still held off. Eagerly we looked to the westward, but no wagon-train appeared. We began to fear that something had happened to our friends, when suddenly one of the Indians jumped up, and with every evidence of excitement signaled to the others. In an instant they were all mounted. "They hear the crack of the bull-whip." said Woods. He was right. Without another glance in our direction the Sioux galloped away toward the foothills, and as they disap peared we heard the welcome snap of the long bull-whip and saw the first of our wagons coming up the trail. In April. I860, the firm of Russell. Majors & Waddell organized the wonder ful "Pony Express," the most picturesque messenger service that this country has ever seen. The route was from St. Joseph, Mo., to Sacramento, Cal., a dis tance of 2.000 miles, across the plains, over a dreary stretch of sagebrush and alkali desert and through two great mountain ranges. The system was really a relay race against time. Stations were built at in tervals averaging fifteen miles apart. A rider's route covered three stations, with an exchange of horses at each, so that he was expected at the beginning to cover close to forty-five miles a good ride when one must average fifteen miles an hour. This wss a life that appealed to me, and I struck for a job. I was pretty joung in years, but I had already earned a reputation for coming safe out of peril ous adventures, and I was hired. The first trip of the Pony Express was made in ten days an average of two hun dred miles a day. BuT we soon began stretching our rides and making better time. Soon we shortened the time to eight days. President Buchanan's last Presidential message in December, 1S60. was carried in eight days. President Lin coln's inaugural, the following March, took only seven days and seventeen hours for the journey between St. Joseph and Sacramento. We soon got used to the work. When it became apparent to the men in charge that the boys could do better than forty five miles a day the stretches were lengthened. The pay of the rider was from $100 to 5125 a month. It was an nounced that the further a man rode the better would b- his pay. That put speed and endurance into all of us Great Britain Rights Reserves. -i A In stretching my own route I found my self getting further and further West. Finally I was riding well into the foothills of the Rockies. Still further West my route was pushed. Soon I rode from Red Buttes on the North Platte to Three Crossings on the Sweetwater, a distance of seventy-six miles. Road agents and Indians Infested this country. I never was quite sure when I started out when J should reach my destination, or whether I should reach it at all. "Wild Bill" I had known since 1857 He and I shared the pleasure of walking 1,000 miles to the Missouri River after the bull-train in which we both were em ployed had been burned by Lot Smith, the Mormon raider. Afterward we rode Ponv Express together. It was at Springfleld, Mo., that Bill had his celebrated fight with Dave Tutt. The fight put an end to Tutt's career. I was a personal witness to another of his gun exploits, in which, though the chances were all against him. he protected his own life and incidentally his money. An inveterate poker player, he got into a game in Springfield with big players and for high stakes. Sitting by the table. I noticed that he seemed sleepy and inattentive. So I kept a close watch on the other fellows. Pres ently I observed that one of his oppo nents was occasionally dropping a card in his hat, which he held in his lap. until a number of cards had been laid away for future use in the game. The pot had gone around several times and was steadily raised by some of the players. Bill staying right along, though he still seemed to be drowsy. The bets kept rising. At last the man with the hatful of cards picked a hand out of his reserves, put the hat on his head and raised Bill a hundred dollars. Bill came back with a raise of two hun dred, and as the other covered it he quietly shoved a pistol into his face and observed: "I am calling the hand that is in your hat!" At the close of the war, when the volunteers were discharged, I was left free to return to my old calling. The regular army was In course of consolida tion. Men who had been general officers were compelled to serve as colonels and majors! The consolidated army's chief business was in the West, where the In dians formed a real menace, and to the West came the famous fighting men un der whose command I was destined to spend man of the eventful years to come. The western end of the Kansas Pacific was at this time in the heart of the buf falo country. Twelve hundred men were employed in the construction of the road. The Indians were very troublesome, and it was difficult to obtain fresh meat for the hands. The company therefore con cluded to engage expert hunters to kill buffaloes. Having heard of my experience and success as a buffalo hunter. Goddard Brothers, who had the contract for feed ing the men, made me a good offer to be come their hunter. THey said they would require about twelve buffaloes a day twenty-four hams and twelve humps, as only the hump and hindquar ters of each animal were utilized. I demanded a large salary, which they could well afford to pay, as the meat itself would cost them nothing. Vnder the terms of the contract which I signed with them I was to receive J500 a month, agreeing on my part to supply them with all the meat they wanted. It was not long before I acquired a con siderable reputation, and it was at this time that the title -Buffalo Bill" was conferred upon me by the railroad bands. Of this title, which has stuck to me through life. I hae never been ashamed. Duri .g my engagement as hunter fo the company, which covered a period of eighteen months. I killed 1.280 buffaloes and had many exciting adventures with the Indians, including a number of hair breadth escapes. While serving as scout with Colonel Royal's command, sent out to punish the turbulent Dog Soldier Indians on the Saline River, there was some incidental buffalo hunting. One afternoon when we went into camp Colonel Royal asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for tb boys. "All right. Colonel." I said: "send along a wagon to bring in the meat." "I am not in the habit of sending out my wagons till I know there is something to be hauled in." he said. "Kill your buffaloes first and I'll send the wagon. Without further words I went out on my hunt. After a short absence I re turned and asked the Colonel to send his wagons for the half dozen buffaloes I had killed. The following afternoon he again re quested me to go out after buffaloes. I didn't ask for any wagons this time, but rode out some distance and. coming upon a small herd, headed seven or eight of them directly for the camp. Instead of shooting them I ran them at full speed right into the place and then killed them one after another in rapid succession. Colonel Royal, who witnessed the whola proceeding, was annoyed and puzzled, as he could see no good reason why I had r.ot, killed the buffaloes on the prairie. Coming up angrily he demanded an explanation. "I didn't care about asking for any wagons this time. Colonel," I replied. "I thought I would make the buffaloes furnish their own transportation." The Colonel saw the force of my de fense, and had no more to say on tht subject. A fascinating instalment of Buffalo Bill's memoirs in February Hearst's Magazine now on sale.