2F W"
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.