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SHOOTING TIMES
I elicited the following from Buck Taylor respecting this peculiar quadruped :-"The Broncho is a horse. He has four legs like the sawhorse, but is decidedly more skittish. He is of gentle deportment and modest "mien," though there is nothing "mean" about him. All he asks is to be let alone. He is firm in this matter, and the most specious argument cannot shake his determination. The first Broncho I ever saw reached out with his right hand foot, and expostulated with his would-be rider so that he died. The Broncho is what the Cowboys call high strung: if you want to know how much climb on his apex. I once saw a clever down east equestrian get on a Broncho with much pomp and a derrick. After two or three spasmodic upheavals he gave one grand farewell "boost," and the rider clove the firmament, and split through the hushed ethereal until his toes ached from the lowness of the temperature, and he could hear the music of the spheres. Then he came down and fell in a little heap about a hundred yards from the starting-point and a kind Samaritan gathered up the fragments in a cigar box. Like to try a 'Broncho,' Mr. Rover?" To this proposal I returned a firm but polite negative. After interviewing Miss Annie Oakley, the champion lady shot of America, who very kindly allowed me to inspect the many beautiful trophies she has received for feats at glass ball and wingbird shooting, and after hearing the Cowboy Band give a taste of their quality, I bade farewell to the King of the Cowboys and "the Wild West," much pleased with the strange and interesting sights I had seen. The American Exhibition and the Wild West will run from Monday next till October 31, and Buffalo Bill's "Wild West" will "show" twice a day-rain or shine!
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THE TOPICAL TIMES.
SATURDAY, MAY 14th, 1887.
"What do you call that?" she asked her cavalier, pointing to the coil of hide in Buck Taylor's hands.
"That is a lasso, my dear, but to my thinking Miss Annie Oakley is a much prettier lass (oh)!"
Then she changed the conversation by enquiring how often the Chief of the Sioux Indians changed his red shirt.
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THE DAILY 1887 LONDON, FRIDAY, MAY 6 NEWS. ROYAL VISIT TO THE AMEICAN EXHIBITION.
The Prince and Princess of Wales, accompanied by their daughters, the Princess Louise (Marchioness of Lorne), the Duke of Cambridge, the Duke of Teck, the Crown Prince of Denmark, and the Marquis of Lorne, visited the American Exhibition yesterday afternoon. Having been conducted through the main building, which is now nearly completed, the Royal party took up their position on the grand stand to witness a special performance of the Wild West Show, the cowboy band playing "God save the Queen" as they arrived. At the conclusion the principal performers were presented to the Prince and Princess. Miss Annie Oakley, the champion shot, put out her hand to shake hands with the Princess, on the Republican principle of ladies first. The Princess smilingly pointed to the Prince, and their Royal Highnesses in turn shook hands warmly with the lady, and complimented her on her skill with the rifle. The Indians seemed greatly to appreciate the Royal visit, and Red Shirt to whom the Prince was introduced as the coming Chief of the Pale Face Nation, said, through Broncho Bill, it made his heart glad that one so high above other men should visit him; though his skin was red, and the Pale Faced Chief's was white, their hearts were one. "How long are you going to stay in this country?" asked his Royal Highness. "So long as the White Father (Colonel Cody) stays, I and my braves will stay," replied the Chief. The Princes handed Red Shirt a number of cigarettes, which the latter shared with his companions. The Sioux Chief repeatedly laid his hand on his heart in order to show his regard for the Prince of Wales. The Princess took great interest in the papooses, staying several minutes to chant with a little fellow of two or three years, who was wrapped in a yellow blanket; and had his body painted in most gorgeous colours. The notice taken of the children highly delighted the squaws. Despite the muddy state of the roads, the Royal party visited and inspected the stables and the corralis where the buffalo and other animals are confined. Before leaving the Exhibition the Prince warmly complimented Colonel Cody and the directors of the Exhibition, and expressed the wish that their venture would prove a grand success.
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WEDNESDAY, MAY 4, 1887 THE SPORTSMAN, CHIT-CHAT AND THE DRAMA. DURING the week, in the course of my wanderings, I found myself at the Wild West Show. It is most charmingly picturesque. With the lofty wigwams and their curious totems, the silent crimson-blanketed figures of the Indians, Red Shirt's inscrutable Napoleonic face, and the dash and vivacious "go" of the cowboys-- it seemed to a staid Londoner like myself impossible to realise that one was still in the humdrum city. I had a chat with the Hon. F. Cody, who rules his people with a gentle firmness which is delightful, and saw "Buck Taylor," but as the latter cavalier told me that he had done no "housework" that morning, and felt a little diffident about the look of his tent, I forebore to plague him.
The honours of the camp were very prettily done, so far as my party were concerned, by Miss Annie Oakley "Little Sure Shot," a Western girl with quiet, expressive eyes, and a voice as soft and silvery as the rustling of a sumer's breeze amongst the trees. It was quite an odd contrast, the refined English delicacy of speech of this little Diana, and the hoarse gutturals of the ochre-smeared Redskins who are her neighbours.
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THE SPORTING LIFE, MAY 4, A PRIVATE VIEW OF BUFFALO BILL.
A correspondenet writes :-We went for Buffalo Bill : this is how it was. Some friends lunched with me yesterday, and bore me with them after our light refreshment to the most curious sitation, just north of the Brompton Cemetery, which our enterprising borthers "across the pond" have converted into a "plaza," containing sheds, camps, wigwams, gardens, toboggan erections, and many other new expositions we have hitherto been unacquainted with in London city. But we were to see Buffalo Bill, his lieutenants, his cowboys, Indians, horses, buffaloes, and every other Transatlantic fixing of his cortege. We wandered about the camps of men, horses, and cattle till a bell sounded, when we all marshalled off to a large open space, a couple of acres or more, one side of which was bounded by rows of seats under a covered shedding (much the same as a Spanish "Torrea"), the other by artistic scenery of the old Vauxhall and Cremorne reminiscence, representing the Rockey Mountains and the Wild West. In a moment came the whole of his following in single file, headed by their stalwart leader mounted on a handsome grey. Off they gallopped forward, on and round about, four or five excellent horsewomen to the front, and all the cowboys and Indians following, the latter on bare-backed horses. The way these ladies rode put Leicestershire in the background. Every movement of their lithe steeds met with a suppleness in their riders that did an old horseman good to witness - plunging mounts and roughish ground gave them no anxiety, and one lady threw herself right back in her saddle on to her horse's back, suiting her movement to that of her horse, which evidently showed him that all he could do would neither put her out of temper or saddle.