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plains and passed every experience; herder, hunter, pony-express rider, stage driver, wagon master in the quartermaster's department, and scout of the army, and was first brought to my notice by distinguishing himself in bringing me an important dispatch from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a distance of sixty-five miles, through a section infested with Indians. The dispatch informed me that the Indians near Larned were preparing to decamp, and this intelligence required that certain orders should be carried to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles south of Hays. This too being a particularly dangerous route- several couriers having been killed on it- it was impossible to get oneo f the various 'Petes,' 'Jacks,' or 'Jims' hanging around Hays City to take my communication. Cody, learning of the strait I was in, manfully came to the rescue, and proposed to make the trip to Dodge, through he had just finished his long and perilous ride from Larned. I gratefully accepted his offer, and after a short rest he mounted a fresh horse and short rest he mounted a fresh horse and hastened on his journey, halting but once to rest on the way, and then only for an hour, the stop being made at Coon Creek, where he got another mount from a troop of cavalry. At Dodge he took some sleep, and then continued on to his own post- Fort Larned- with more dispatches. After resting at Larned, he was again in the saddle with tidings for me at Fort Hays, General Hazen sending him, this time, with word that the villages had fled to the south of Arkansas. Thus, in all, Cody rode about 350 miles in less than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage at that time of the year, and in such weather, was more than enough to convince me that his services would be extremely valuable in the campaign, so I retained him at Fort Hays till the battalion of the Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then made him "CHIEF OF SCOUTS."
Read through the fascinating book, "Campaigning with Crook (Major-General George Crook, U.S.A.) and Stories of Army Life," due to the graphic and soldierly pen of Captain Charles King, of the U.S. Army; published in 1890.
Incidentally the author refers in various pages to COL. CODY as Scout, etc., and testifies to the general esteem and affection in which "BUFFALO BILL" is held by the army.
The subjoined extracts from the book will give our readers and excellent idea of the military scout's calling and its dangers.
"By Jove, General!" says "BUFFALO BILL," sliding backward down the hill, "now's our chance. Let our party mount here out of sight, and we'll cut those fellows off. Come down every other man of you."
Glancing behind me, I see CODY, TAIT and "CHIPS," with five cavalrymen, eagerly bending forward in their saddles, grasping carbine and rifle, every eye bent upon me, watching for the signal. Not a man but myself knows how near they are. That's right, close in, you beggars! Ten seconds more, and you are on them! A hundred and twenty-five yards- a hundred-ninety- "Now, lads, in with you."
There's a rush, a wild ringing cheer; then bang, bang, bang! and in a cloud of dust, CODY and his men tumble in among them, "BUFFALO BILL" closing on a superbly accoutred warrior. It is the work of a minute; the Indian has fired and missed. CODY's bullet tears through the rider's leg into the pony's heart, and they tumble in a confused heap on the prairie. The Cheyenne struggles to his feet for another shot, but CODY's second bullet hits the mark. It is now close quarters, knife to knife. After a hand-to-hand struggle, CODY | 5545
plains and passed every experience; herder, hunter, pony-express rider, stage driver, wagon master in the quartermaster's department, and scout of the army, and was first brought to my notice by distinguishing himself in bringing me an important dispatch from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a distance of sixty-five miles, through a section infested with Indians. The dispatch informed me that the Indians near Larned were preparing to decamp, and this intelligence required that certain orders should be carried to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles south of Hays. This too being a particularly dangerous route- several couriers having been killed on it- it was impossible to get oneo f the various 'Petes,' 'Jacks,' or 'Jims' hanging around Hays City to take my communication. Cody, learning of the strait I was in, manfully came to the rescue, and proposed to make the trip to Dodge, through he had just finished his long and perilous ride from Larned. I gratefully accepted his offer, and after a short rest he mounted a fresh horse and short rest he mounted a fresh horse and hastened on his journey, halting but once to rest on the way, and then only for an hour, the stop being made at Coon Creek, where he got another mount from a troop of cavalry. At Dodge he took some sleep, and then continued on to his own post- Fort Larned- with more dispatches. After resting at Larned, he was again in the saddle with tidings for me at Fort Hays, General Hazen sending him, this time, with word that the villages had fled to the south of Arkansas. Thus, in all, Cody rode about 350 miles in less than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage at that time of the year, and in such weather, was more than enough to convince me that his services would be extremely valuable in the campaign, so I retained him at Fort Hays till the battalion of the Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then made him "CHIEF OF SCOUTS."
Read through the fascinating book, "Campaigning with Crook (Major-General George Crook, U.S.A.) and Stories of Army Life," due to the graphic and soldierly pen of Captain Charles King, of the U.S. Army; published in 1890.
Incidentally the author refers in various pages to COL. CODY as Scout, etc., and testifies to the general esteem and affection in which "BUFFALO BILL" is held by the army.
The subjoined extracts from the book will give our readers and excellent idea of the military scout's calling and its dangers.
"By Jove, General!" says "BUFFALO BILL," sliding backward down the hill, "now's our chance. Let our party mount here out of sight, and we'll cut those fellows off. Come down every other man of you."
Glancing behind me, I see CODY, TAIT and "CHIPS," with five cavalrymen, eagerly bending forward in their saddles, grasping carbine and rifle, every eye bent upon me, watching for the signal. Not a man but myself knows how near they are. That's right, close in, you beggars! Ten seconds more, and you are on them! A hundred and twenty-five yards- a hundred-ninety- "Now, lads, in with you."
There's a rush, a wild ringing cheer; then bang, bang, bang! and in a cloud of dust, CODY and his men tumble in among them, "BUFFALO BILL" closing on a superbly accoutred warrior. It is the work of a minute; the Indian has fired and missed. CODY's bullet tears through the rider's leg into the pony's heart, and they tumble in a confused heap on the prairie. The Cheyenne struggles to his feet for another shot, but CODY's second bullet hits the mark. It is now close quarters, knife to knife. After a hand-to-hand struggle, CODY |
