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AT THEIR JOURNEY'S END.

frontiersman. having hunted in the country of the Sioux for the last fifty years. He is 71 years old now, but hearty and vigorous and full of enthusiasm on the subject of the rare collection of fossils, relics, and curiosities which he has brought with him for exhibition as a part of Col. Cody's wild west show.

When at last the warriors left the Illinois Central train and entered the domains of Buffalo Bill a group of Arabs rushed forward to meet them. The denizens of the far eastern desert and the prairies of the great northwest shook hands, while Col. Cody stood by and witnessed this triumphs of his ambition with a face beaming with pleasure. But the braves made only a short stop for ceremonies and quickly ranged themselves about the long tables in the barracks, where roast beef and coffee disappeared in startling quantities.

Probably no feature of the world's fair will attract more universal interest than this band of fighting Sioux fresh from the hostile fields of Wounded Knee and Pine Ridge.

NEWS RECORD - APRIL 20TH

SIOUX CHIEFS ARRIVE. ------------------------ PINE RIDGE WARRIORS ARE HERE ------------------------ Seventy-Six Ogallalla Indians Come to Join Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show Near the Exposition Grounds - In War Paint and Feathers. ---------- THE CHICAGO RECORD WORLD'S FAIR BUREAU. Buffalo Bill shook hands with seventy-six Ogallalla Sioux Indians yesterday fresh from Pine Ridge agency. They came in on the Northwestern's Omaha train at 2:30 in the afternoon. Passengers in the waiting-room of the depot heard first a deep, guttural intonation. This came from under the bedizened blanket of Chief No-Neck. Then he beat time with a

{IMAGE}

JOHN NELSON, THE SCOUT.

feathered was club and a chorus of lusty yells frightened women and children. The Indians repeated this thrice with increased gusto. The uproar at a college foot-ball game was nothing to be compared with it.

Maj. Burke, Buffalo Bill's manager, received them with amazing cordiality and they evinced

{IMAGE}

CHIEF NO NECK.

the greatest pleasure to shake his hand, which they did with much grunting and waving plumes.

Greeted the Distinguised Chiefs.

Young Jack Red Cloud, Rocky Bear, Standing Bear, White Cloud and No-Neck were the chiefs who stalked up to Col. Coyd, Nate Salsbury and Maj. Burke and shook hands with them. All are influential men among the Indians and are fine-looking specimens of the red-skins.

Few of the Sioux are below six feet in height. Oakly Schneider and Jones Asey, who came

{IMAGE} AN INDIAN MAIDEN.

with the Indians, said that they were the pick of the nation, and their appearance justified the assertion. They were tricked out in all the bravery of war paint and battle clothes, and their stern faces were frescoed with pigments which rivaled Dutch tulips in the intensity and variety of colors. Their well-greased hair was

{IMAGE} ONE OF THE YOUNG MEN.

carried in two heavy braids behind their ears and were embellished with eagle feathers, foxes tails, minkskins and colored plumes. Geometrical designs wrought in quills, beads, and shells adorned their leggings, belts and shirts and bright blankets were wrapped around their shoulders or thrown over their heads. Seven squaws and four children competed for satrotial honors with the braves.

Shortly after the Wild West encampment at 68d street was invaded the Indians began putting up the twelve tents which will house them for the next six months, and the energetic industry displayed by the Sioux failed to confirm the time-honored tradition that "Lo" always sits around in solitary grandeur while Mrs

"lo" builds wigwams, splits kindling, cooks, tans leather, makes buckskin clothing and raises all the crops.

Have Visited Foreign Cities. Although the majority of the Indians had never been a hundred miles away from home before, several had been with Buffalo Bill in England, Paris and New York. An English soldier belonging to the Wild West outfit, and who had fully digested the Leather Stocking wildly painted Sioux and said: "How? Heap wet." "Yes," drawled Rocky Bear, who spent eighteen months in Europe; "it's rawther nawsty, me boy." and rolled a cigarette in the most approved club style. Old Red Cloud, Young-Man-Afraid-of-His-Horses and Two-Strikes are expected Sunday. They visit the World's Fair as guests of Buffalo Bill, and twenty-five other Indians will probably come with them. John Nelson trapper, scout and interpreter, accompanied the red men from Pine Ridge. He is a well-known character in southwest Dakota, and in the course of his forty years on the plains has gathered a large colection of petrifacations and Indian Curiosities of which he is extemely proud. He reported that the trip from the agency was uneventful and that the Indians came through with the nonchalance of globe-trotters. Last night the campfires were blazing and the Indians were entirely at home though they were digusted with the weather.

Enter Ocean Apl. 20th.

MEN WHO CAN RIDE.

Buffalo Bill's Camp of Roughriders of All Nations.

ARABS OF THE DESERT.

Cavalrymen of the Steppes and Their Chief.

Teresa Dean Dines with Colonel Cody and Views His Cossacks and Lancers.

To be or not to be systematic is the question with me just now. I've a sneaking sort of a conviction that one or the other is all wrong. Common sense told me several days ago that the thing to do was to map out a plan for the day before starting for the exposition. Each day I have systemically laid out a line of investigation, and so far the line for the first day has not been checked off. I looked over the list yesterday. It worried me. I would start early and accomplish something. I would make a bee line for the exhibit from Ceylon. I left the train at the nearest entrance to this exhibit, so as not to be tempted to loiter on the way through the grounds. A lot of people who have alighted from the train with me seemed to be unable to get out of my way, so I made some desperate jumps across a muddy road to the other side. That settled it. I brought up at the entrance to Buffalo Bill's camp of the nations. I went in just for a minute, though I was "Positively No Admittance" over the gateway. I never thought of Ceylon again, and neither would you.

It was just dinner time in the camp, and everybody was over in the eating-tent said a man at the gate. To see people of all nations eating together would be interesting. I turned involuntarily toward the eating-tent.

Saw Bill's People Eat.

A man was leaning against a tree who looked as if he could tell me anything I wanted to know. It was the steward. He said that they were all rather disorganized. as yet, but to come right in. He lifted a canvas curtain and we were in the kitchen. At the left was a long dining room with several tables and set for about 125 people. It was the dining-room prepared for the Indians, who were expected at 2:15. We went to the right and there were ten long tables filled with the people of all nations. There was a cowboy hand at one table, the regular musicians at another, at the next the cowboy rough-riders. Then came the Mexican soldiers and the American soldiers - a detachment of the Sixtn Cavalry on a turlough - at the fifth table. On the other side of the tent at the farther

visits his parents often. He is one of thirty children. His father has four wives. His mother has fourteen children, and for this reason his father thinks more of her than of his other wives. There are eight of th women here with these Morocco Arabs, all closely veiled. I have been promised a glimpse of their faces - there were too many men around for this yesterday.

TERESA DEAN.

table were the English soldiers - the Landers, formerly of the Prince of Wales' Regiment. Then came of the German soldiers, and between them and the French soldiers were the Russians - the Cossacks from Caucassia. The Arabs came next, and in the same part of the tent men belonging to the business staff were dining.

We returned to the kitchen. And if the Humane Society could have seen that menu, and the food prepared for the expected Indians! never again would they bother about the way Buffalo Bill feeds his Indians or other people entrusted to his care.

Dine with Colonel Cody.

The savory odor made me hungry. Just as I was wishing they would invite me to dinner the curtain lifted and Colonel Cody - the famous Buffalo Bill - walked in and - I was invited to dinner. On one side was a small table set for two or three. Colonel Cody spoke to a pleasant-faced little woman who came forward and whom he introduced as Mamma Whittake. Mamma Whittaker is everybody's mama. She takes care of all the 400 people - givs them medicine, ties up scratches, bandages up sprains, takes care of the wardrobes, and has been with the company for ten years. She has a diploma as a physician. Everybody calls her "Mamma," and she calls them "dear." While we were eating our dinner she was called away several times to listen to the wants of different ones. After dinner we started out to make some calls in the camp. The first one was on the Russian prince - Prince Macharadze. He could not speak a word of English, but his manners were those of a prince. In London he received a great deal of attention. He was entertained by the Prince of Wales and also presented to Queen Vistoria, which, of course, established his social position. He wore the Cossack costume, with a row of cartridges across his chest. There are about twenty-five soldiers in the different companies of the nations, and their tents are pitched as when they are in service for their own countries. Sitting Bull's tepee, or log hut, has been brought here, and near it stands the old Treasury coach - the same one that "calamity jane" brought into Deadwood with the driver dead by her side and two passengers killed on the inside.

The Baby Buffaloes.

I was particularly anxious to make one call, and that was on Columbus and Isabella. They had arrived during the night. They are two little buffaloes. As we arrived at the enclosure I heard Colonel Cody ask the man if there was an danger. He said no. This man is John Higby, and he ought to know. He has taken care of buffaloes for thirty years. And by the way, he is partner of the famous stage driver Hank Monk, who said to Horace Greely, in his ride through the mountains: "Keep your seat, Horace, I'll git you there on time."

He said no, but I noticed that he took a long, two-tined pitchfork in his hands and went with us. I climbed up on th eside of the rail stall to look at the baby buffalo, and pay my respects to Columbus first. Columbus' buffalo mother did not like it. Before I had time to any more than see that Columbus was a most fashionable tan clor, she made a bound for me, and I never stopped to admire these fast-becoming extinct bisons of the prairies. I rushed out of the gate and into another danger. A cowboy was bounding through the air on the back of a mad and unmanageable pony. It was as dangerous to run one way as the other. So I stood still and said my prayers, expecting every minute to be lifted from my feet from the back and trampled under foot in front. Colonel Cody and John Higby, however, did not seem very much aiarmed. As nothing happened we went on to see Isabella. I looked through a window at her, and her buffalo mother seemed to know that I could not hurt her baby from the window. No one but John Higby can go very near the buffaloes with safety.

We walked around the immense arena and watched the cowboys and Mexicans train their ponies for a while. None of the soldiers drilled, though it is usually a part of the day's programme. General Miles and the regular army officers are very much interested in studying the military tactics of other countries, and are frequent visitors to the arena.

Arabs of the Desert.

And then we went back to one of the tents and waited for the arrival of the Indians. While we were sitting there ten Arabs with their "sheik" came to call on us. These Arabs are from Morocco, in the northwestern part of Africa, and are very different from the Arabs in Midway plaisance. They never pray if there is a particle of dirt on them. To pray is their life. They are all athletes. Two of them were of immense stature, and it is nothing for them to carry the ten men on their shoulders, one above the other. There is a dervish with them. He can "twist" - whirl around - for an hour. They say that he is asleep in five minutes and whirls in an unconscious state after that. When he regains consciousness he tells them of the beautiful land to which he has been. He is very sacred to the other Arabs. They were all awaiting very anxiously for the arrival of the Indians. The interpreter told them that an Indian could ride and run a horse without any saddle. They said they could do that also, and were quite inclined to be jealous of this one accomplishment of the Indians.

The interpreter has traveled a great deal, and has lived in this country. He

Ocean Apl. 22

BUFFALO BILL'S BIG SHOW

All Previous Displays of the Colonel to Be Eclipsed this Year.

After habing shown the nations of Europe some of the people, with their habits and customs, of the Wild West, Buffalo Bill has returned to America determined to outdo all his former efforts in the show line. With that object in view he has secured fourteen acres of space at Sixty-second street, just outside the World's Fair grounds, for his great show this Summer. In addition to the representations of Indian life, however, the show this year is to contain a "congress of the primitive horsemen of the world," which will show 450 men of all nationalities in their country's costumes in a series of equestrian exhibitions of skill. Buffalo Bill says it will be the greatest show that he ever produced, and those who know the "Colonel" believe him.

table were the English soldiers - the Landers, formerly of the Prince of Wales' Regiment. Then came the German soldiers, and between them and the French soldiers were the Russians - the Cossacks from Caucassia. The Arabs came next, and in the same part of the tent men belonging to the business staff were dining.

We returned to the kitchen. And if the Humane Society could have seen that menu, and the food prepared for the expected Indians! Never again would they bother about the way Buffalo Bill feeds his Indians or other people entrusted to his care.

DINED WITH COLONEL CODY.

The savory odor made me hungry. Just as I was wishing they would invite me to dinner the curtain lifted and Colonel Cody - the famous Buffalo Bill - walked in and - I was invited to dinner. On one side was a small table set for two or three. Colonel Cody spoke to a pleasant-faced little woman who came forward and whom he introduced as Mamma Wittaker. Mamma Wittaker is everybody's mamma. She takes care of all the 400 people - gives them medicine, ties up scratches, bandages up sprains, takes care of the wardrobes, and has been with the company for ten years. She has a diploma as a physician. Everybody calls her "Mamma," and she calls them "dear." While we were eating our dinner she was called away several times to listen to the wants of different ones. After dinner we started out to make some calls in teh camp. The first one was on the Russian prince - Prince Macharadze. He could not speak a word of English, but his manners were those of a prince. In London he received a great deal of attention. He was entertained by the Prince of Wales and also presented to Queen Victoria, which, of course, established his social position. He wore the Cossack costume, with a row of cartridges across his chest. There are about twenty-five soldiers in the different companies of the nations, and their tents are pitched as when they are in service for their own countries. Sitting Bull's tepee, or log hut, has been brought here, and near it stands the old Treasury coach - the same one that "Calamity Jane" brought into Deadwood with the driver dead by her side and two passengers killed on the inside.

The Baby Buffaloes.

I was particularly anxious to make one call, and that was on Clumbus and Isabella. They had arrived during the night. They are two little buffaloes. As we arrived at the enclosure I heard Colonel Cody ask the man if there was an danger. He said no. This man is John Higby, and he ought to know. He has taken care of buffaloes for thiry years. And by the way, he is a partner of the famous stage driver Hank Monk, who said to Horace Greely in his ride through the mountains: "keep your seat, Horace. I'll git you there on time."

He said no, but I noticed that he took a long, two-tined pitchfork in his hands and went with us. I climbed up on the side of the rail stall to look at the baby buffalo, and pay my respects to Columbus first. Columbus' buffalo mother did not like it. Before I had time to any more than see that Columbus was a most fashionable tan color, she made a bound for me, and I never stopped to admire these fast-becoming extinct bisons of the prairies. I rushed out of the gate and into another danger. A cowboy was bounding through the air on the back of a mad and unmanageable pony. It was as dangerous to run one way as the other. So I stood still and said my prayers, expecting every minute to be lifted from my feet from the back and trampled under foot in front. Colonel Cody and John Hibgy, however, did not seem very much alarmed. As nothing happened we went on to see Isabella. I looked thorugh a window at her, and her buffalo mother seemed to know that I could not hurt her baby from the window. No one but John Higby can go very near the buffaloes with safety.

We walked around the immense arena and watched the cowboys and Mexicans train their ponies for a while. None of the soldiers drilled, though it is usually a part of the day's programme. General Miles and the regular army officers are very much interested in studying the military tactics of other countries, and are frequent visitors to the arena.

Arabs of the Desert.

And then we went back to one of the tents and waited for the arrival of the Indians. While we were sitting there ten Arabs with their "sheik" came to call on us. These Arabs are from Morocco, in the northwestern part of Africa, and are very different from the Arabs in Midway plaisance. They all have a high social position in their own country. Their costues are very handsome, and they are all exquistely neat in appearance. It is their religion to be so. They never pray if there is a particle of dirt on them. To pray is their life. They are all athletes. Two of them were of immense stature, and it is nothing for them to carry the ten men on their shoulders, one above the other. There is a dervish with them. He can "twist" - whirl around - for an hour. They say that he is asleep in five minutes and whirls in an unconscious state after that. When he regains consciousness he tells them of the beautiful land to which he has been. He is very sacred to the other Arabs. They were all waiting very anxiously for the arrival of the Indians. The interpreter told them that an Indian could ride and run a horse without any saddle. They said they could do that also and were quite inclined to be jealous of this one accomplishment of the Indian.

The interpreter has traveled a great deal, and has lived in this country. He visits his parents often. He is one of thirty children. His father has four wives. His mother has fourteen children, and for this reason his father thinks more of her than of his other wives. There are eight of the women here with these Morocco Arabs, all closely veiled. I have been promised a glimpse of their faces - there were too many men around for this yesterday.

Teresa Dean.

Herald. Apl 22 SLAYER OF TOM CUSTER. _________ RAIN-IN-THE-FACE COMES TO TOWN. __________ The Willy Sioux Who Displayed Reckless Bravery in the Slaughter of the Seventh at the Little Big Horn Will See the Fair. ___________

Learning upon two crutches, with the whirling snow pelting his long black hair and the eagle feathers he had worn in the scalp-look ever since he left the Missouri, was a sturdy old Sioux warrior in Buffalo Bill's Indian village in Sixty-third street yesterday afternoon. There was nothing in the appearance of the crippled Indian to indicate that he was more than one of the commonest of coffee coolers- a set of beggars always to be found about the post traders' stores on a western reservation. Within the park a hundred Brules, in paint and feathers, were riding like demons and yelling shrilly as the pace of their ponies grew faster. But the old man on crutches, who stood alone at the gate, gave no outward sign that he was pleased or interested. He clutched a blue blanket at his breast and shook his massive head from time to time as the snow settled too thickly about his ears.

The cripple was Rain-in-the-Face, who seventeen years ago was notorious for his bloody work on the Little Big Horn, when General Custer and his gallant troopers of the Seventh fell and were scalped almost to a man. Sitting Bull, whom General Miles has called the "Red Napoleon," has been credited with having directed the movements of the Sioux on that savage day. This statement has been confirmed and denied by writers and Indians, but there has never been any doubt that Sitting Bull took an active part in the battle, even if he did not assume absolute command of the warriors. Nobody has successfully disputed the melancholy achievement of Rain-in-the-Face during the last hours of Custer's command. The savage was then a youngster, with all the characteristic cruelty of his race. He bore himself with reckless bravery during the fighting, and when the troopers were all but gone he burst upon them like a demon and fired the shot that stretched Captain Tom Custer at the feet of his father.

Scout Curley Will Be Here.

Scout Curley, a half-breed Crow, who was the only man of Custer's command to escape with his life, and who is to come to Chicago next week, saw Rain-in-the-Face in this last charge. There was but a handful of the Seventh left when Captain Custer fell, but that handful, standing close to the intrepid general, came mighty near squaring accounts before they, too, tumbled dead or wounded among the bodies of their comrades. A bullet from a carbine struck Rain-in-the-Face in the left knee, shattering the bone and hurling him out of his saddle. He fell almost squarely upon the body of Captain Custer, but was quickly rescued by his people borne away. That is why Rain-in-the-Face was walking on crutches yesterday. He will never walk again without them.

Whatever may be said about the spectacular careers of the rest of the Sioux since the wars of 1876 and 1891, Rain-in-the-Face cannot be charged with having sought notoriety. Until the Wisconsin Central train hauled him out of St. Paul on Friday night he had never been east of the Mississippi river. The biggest town he had seen up to that day was Mandan, in North Dakota; and Mandan, as many people know, is not much larger than Freeze Out or Red Top, in Montana.

When Sitting Bull hoisted the white flag on the British line Rain-in-the-Face, along with such brainy chieftains as Gall and Grass, accepted the inevitable with commendable grace and has since lived in a quiet way at the Standing Rock agency.

Rain-in-the-Face Stabbed by His Squaw.

Just before the ghost-dancing outbreak of 1891 the old warrior was stabbed by his squaw while he lay asleep in his tepee. The woman, who no doubt had some great grievance, stole into the lodge late at night and plunged a skinning-knife into the breast of the Indian. For weeks and it was thought that the thrust would accomplish what the bullet on the Little Big Horn had failed to do, but the old warrior's vitality had not left him and he recovered in time to take a lively interest in Sitting Bull's attempt to start a stampede at Standing Rock. Old Bull, however, was still too much of a firebrand to win favor from Rain-in-the-Face, who was quite willing to remain in his lodge with his shattered knee and knife-slashed breast. Bull went to war or was forced into war, as two stories run, and when the firing was over in the first scrimmage the doughty old chieftain and his sons lay dead in the sage brush along Grand river. But Bull and his band didn't die without making a strong fight against the Indian police who had been sent to arrest them. Shave Head, a full brother of Rain-in-the-Face, and a sergeant of police, was killed almost at the first fire, and nearly a dozen more of his companions fell out of their saddles with mortal wounds during the last stand of old Bull on this earth.

Big Send-Off for the Old Chief.

Rain-in-the-Face left Mandan, N.D., on Thursday. He was accompanied by a son of Major McLaughlin, the famous agent at Standing Rock. Before the men left the agency the Sioux gave Rain-in-the-Face a big send-off. A steer was slaughtered in sight of the agency buildings, and gathered about the roasting steaks and sputtering fat, the warriors made merry until it was time for the buckboard to start for the train.

Rain-in-the-Face is wonderfully impressed with what he has seen. St. Paul upset the old man's nerves, but the roar of Chicago's streets upset him completely.

"Heap thunder," he said to his companion, and then he would crouch upon his crutches as though in momentary fear of being hit by something. The big domes of the fair and the mighty roof of manufactures building filled the old fellow with awe. He said he would visit them when "his eyes were rested and he did not see so big."

Sitting Bull's cabin on Grand river, before whose door the old savage gave up his life at the beginning of the last war with the Sioux, was placed in position at the Sixty-third street grounds yesterday. It is built of oak and cottonwood logs, with a sod roof. The door has been perforated in three places by bullets, and two holes in the floor show where deadly missiles entered after they had passed through the bodies of Bull's sons.

Herald Apl 23rd

WITH HIS SAVAGE EYES _____________ RAIN-IN-THE-FACE, THE SLAYER OF OUSTER, SEES THE WORLD'S FAIR. _________________ He Rolls Cigarettes in a Tepee Near the Log Cabin in Front of Which Sitting Bull Was Killed and Revives Old Times with Buffalo Bill- Then He Hears the Roll Call of the Savages Who Compose the Band of Regenerate Hair Raisers and Who Answer with a "Ugh."

Over in a corner of Buffalo Bill's big arena in Sixty-thrid street good yesterday a stout man of swarthy complexion and long hair falling in rat tails over his coat collar. He wore a tight-fitting blue suit and a negligee shirt. He leaned sadly on a pair of roughly made crutches and looked wistfully at the Indians in their war paint as they whirled gleefully around the space. It was hard to picture this obese, unpoetical figure as the blood-thirsty chief of war paint and feathers. But so he was. Rain-in-the-Face is farther east than ever before in his checkered career. He reached Chicago at 10 o'clock yesterday morning in the company of Harry McLaughlin, son of Maj. James McLaughlin, who was charge of the reservation at Standing Rock, N.D.

The whirligig of time has brought its revenge for the old chief. Faded memories were quickened into life at the sight of the braves. There were men among them who parted from Rain-in-the-Face in all his glory at the Little Big Horn, to meet him again maimed and quelled, a chattel at an exhibition. There is not a Sioux in the crowd but looks upon him as the great chief who overcame Custer. Many credit the general's death blow to his hand. Those were the days when the name of Itelogoju was one to conjure with in all the nations of the Sioux. Rain-in-the-Face, as his name has been translated, now wears blue suits instead of a blanket. Peace has come to him in his middle age. He bears on his body a substantial record of his youth, for a bullet wound received in the Custer fight has lamed him for life.

He declared yesterday that the injury had been received from a gunshot wound while out hunting. His interpreter, Harry McLaughlin, winked at the announcement. Itelogoju's contempt for the pale-face is too pronounced to allow of his admitting that

(IMAGE) The is go [jin?]

by 20 in width, and is built of rough logs, with a roofing of straw thatch. It will contain museum of relics, embalming the memory of the dead chief. Sitting Bull's guns and the guns that killed Sitting Bull are wrapped amicably together in one package. The "ghost pole," around which the crazed Indians danced, will be on view, as well as the garments of the chief himself. His "sweat box" will also be a feature in the display, as the means which gained for him a large proportion of his influence. It is a collection of closely woven wattles wherein the chief was wont to sweat braves into weakness. Their subsequent collapse into unconsciousness was accomplished by twirling a rod rapidly around their heads, thereby producing giddiness. Once comatose, Sitting Bull knew how to deal with them.

While Itelgoju was rolling cigarettes in the tepee Col. Cody was mustering his braves outside. He stood in the center of a ring of hideously painted Indians and called their names from a type-written list. Beside him stood an interpreter to translate the names into their proper tongue, for even Col. Cody halts at certain of the patronymics of his followers.

"Charge-on-His-Horse," he would cry, and the interpreter would interpolate three gurgles and a cough, meeting with the response "Ugh" from some one in the fantastic crowd.

When other methods failed an appeal was made to a Sioux "crier," who explained matters in voluble gutturals. Finally the list was concluded with "Hollow-Back" and "Follow-the-Squaw" and the dusky savages marched to the arena.

(IMAGE) BUFFALO BILL'S ROLL CALL.

RAIN-IN-THE-FACE AND HIS AUTOGRAPH.

such a weakling's bullet maim such a great chief. Buffalo Bill called on his friend, the enemy, in the tepee where the latter is quartered. There were a hundred old-time reminiscences to be revived, for Col. Cody met Rain-in-the-Face when he was Itelogoju, years ago.

Col. Cody invited the chief to come over to the arena, and his stolid, flat face brightened momentarily at the prospect of seeing war paint once again. He sat placidly on a mattress rolling a cigarette from a green paper package of tobacco that smacked more of Madison street than of the boundless prairie. Since he left Standing Rock agency Thursday night he has seen more than ever entered his dreams. Beyond an occasional visit to Bismarck and Mandan he knows nothing of brick and mortar, and Chicago is a revelation to him. He was awe struck, like some white folks, at the world's fair buildings, but beyond all he wanted to know how people climbed up to build those tall towers. His 46 years of life have been spent in cabins on the Grand river or tepees in the far northwest. He gazed wonderingly at the towering masses, and thought the pale-face medicine man must play a strong game.

The chief will be in Buffalo Bill's inclosure throughout the summer, but not of it. In a corner of the space is a rude, half-thatched log cabin with a portentous history. Bullet holes in the door and floor tell their tale for themselves. Six feet in front of the doorway Sitting Bull died. Four feet inside the door bullets marks show the spot where his son Crowfeet met with death. Sitting Bull's cabin has been shipped, in its native integrity, from its safe on the banks of the Grand river. To convey it to Chicago it was necessary to carry the timbers 110 miles by wagon over mud roads. The cabin comprises one single room, 36 feet in length

(IMAGE) DOOR AT WHICH SITTING BULL WAS KILLED.

___________ WILD WEST SHOW. _____________ "Buffalo Bill's" Rough Riders Now in Camp.

Rich in the plaudits of another continent Col. W.F. Cody and his Indians have returned to the land of their nativity and are making grand preparations for an all-summer engagement at the World's Fair. Never before has the old world has such an innovation. Peasant and potentate sat side by side at the Wild West Show and thrilled with the realistic scenes of the country has been greatly enriched by the addition of many new and novel features. Besides the original company of Indians, cowboys and plainsmen, a band of Mexican vacqueros. South American ganchos and mounted battalions from six nations have joined them. Buffalo Bill's aroma, where the performances will take place, embraces an area of nearly eighty acres of ground, and 18,000 people can witness the display at once. The grounds are at Sixty-third street, near Jackson park. It certainly deserves recognition as a great exhibit for it presents a version of primeval lite which the great west to-day can not duplicate.

Herald. Apl 22

SLAYER OF TOM CUSTER.

RAIN-IN-THE-FACE COMES TO TOWN.

The Willy Sioux Who Displayed Reckless Bravery in the Slaughter of the Seventh at the Little Big Horn Will See the Fair.

Leaning upon two crutches, with the whirling snow pelting his long black hair and the eagle feathers he had worn in the scalp-lock ever since he left the Missouri, was a sturdy old Sioux warrior in Buffalo Bill's Indian village in Sixty-third street yesterday afternoon. There was nothing in the appearance of the crippled Indian to indicate that he was more than one of the commonest of coffee coolers - a set of beggars always to be found about the post traders' stores on a western reservation. Within the park a hundred Bruies, in paint and feathers, were riding like demons and yelling shrilly as the pace of their ponies grew faster. But the old man on crutches, who stood alone at the gate, gave no outward sign that he was pleased or interested. He clutched a blue blanket at his breast and shook his massive head from time to time as the snow settled too thickly about his ears.

The cripple was Rain-in-the-Face, who seventeen years ago was notorious for his bloody work on the Little Big Horn, when General Custer and his gallant troopers of the Seventh fell and were scalped almost to a man. Sitting Bull, whom General Miles has called the "Red Napoleon," has been credited with having directed the movements of the Sioux on that savage day. This statement has been confirmed and denied by writers and Indians, but there has been any doubt that Sitting Bull took an active part in the battle, even if he did not assume absolute command of the warriors. Nobody has successfully disputed the melancholy achievement of Rain-in-the-Face during the last hours of Custer's command. The savage was then a youngster, with all the characteristic cruelty of his race. He bore himself with reckless bravery during the fighting, and when the troopers were all but gone he burst upon them like a demon and fired the shot that stretched Captain Tom Custer at the feet of his father.

Scout Curley Will Be Here.

Scout Curley, a hald-breed Crow, who was the only man of Custer's comman to escape with his life, and who is to come to Chicago next wee, saw Rain-in-the-Face in this last charge. There was but a handful of the Seventh left when Captain Custer fell, but that handful, standing close to the intrepid general, came mighty near squaring accounts before they, too, tumbled dead or wounded among the bodies of their comrades. A bullet from a carbine struck Rain-in-the-Face in the left knee, shattering the bone and hurling him out of his saddle. He fell almost squarely upon the body of Captain Custer, but was quickly rescued by his people and borne away. That is why Rain-in-the-Face was walking on crutches yeserday. He will never walk again without them.

Whatever may be said about the spectacular careers of the rest of the Sioux since the wars of 1876 and of 1891, Rain-in-the-Face cannot be charged with having sought notoriety. Until the Wisconsin Central train hauled him out of St. Paul on Friday night he had never been east of the Mississippi river. The biggest town he had seen up to that day was Mandan, in North Dakota; and Mandan, as many people know, is not much larger than Freeze Out or Red Top, in Montana.

When Sitting Bull hoisted the white flag on the British line Rain-in-the-Face, along with such brainy cheiftains as Gall and Grass, accepted the inevitable with commendable grace and has since lived in a quiet way at the Standing Rock agency.

Dispatch april 24

BUFFALO BILL'S SHOW. ______________ Many Unique Features Faithfully Portraying the Western Life of Pioneers- Beginning Wednesday.

Among the numerous world's fair attractions "Buffalo Bill" probably figures as the biggest card. He has a small fair of his own, which to a great many people will appear even more interesting than the great white city. "Buffalo Bill," or Colonel William F. Cody, statesman, orator, Indian scout, trapper and herder, has gained more distinction as a historian than any other living man. His history of the wild west, however, is not a written book, nor a printed pamphlet- it is the west as it existed but a few years ago; as "Buffalo Bill" saw it and as many other pioneers saw it. It is a living history of the wild west, and with it the most stupenduous attraction as a show that has ever been seen.

A great many years and millions of money have been spent by Colonel Cody in getting together a perfect organization, but he has at last succeeded.

Beside making it a living history of the wild west he has secured features which make it a history also of the barbaric east. Cossacks and Tartars, Arabs and Syrians in the armor of olden times are seen in the congress of rough riders, side by side with Indians, cowboys Mexican ruralie and Spanish gauchos.

A large space of ground has been secured for this attraction on Sixty-third street, opposite the world's fair, and an amphitheater that will seat 18,000 people has been erected. Beginning Wednesday, April 26, there will be two performances daily for six months, during which all of Chicago and her guests will have an opportunity to see this wonderful combination.

Herald April 24 It would be hard to depict or even to imagine the emotions which the great city of Chicago and the great fair must excite in the breast of that fierce old warrior, Rain-in-the-Face. There is no doubt that many of the Indian chiefs who in the past have so valiantly led their people in their vain struggle against the encroaching civilization of the white man have had but an imperfect idea of the latter's power and resources. They have believed that civilization was represented only by what they saw in the far west, and that the troopers led against them formed the chief strength of the white man's army. Perhaps Rain-in-the-Face now gains for the first time a correct idea of the puisance of civilization and of the certain extinction that awaits any people, however brave, who oppose it.

Evening Journal april [2?]

LASSOED A KANGAROO. ____________ One of Buffalo Bill's Scouts Performs a Novel Feat at the Fair.

"Hurry up with a lariat," shouted Buck Taylor, one of Buffalo Bill's western scouts, with vehement voice to his fellow cowpunchers yesterday noon as he spied one of Hagenbacks' kangaroos leaping wildly toward the cowboy camp. Buck Taylor has lassoed many a Texan steer with perfect confidence and self-control during his western escapades, but never before had he been called upon to capture so ungainly a looking creature as this. The kangaroo, regardless of the obstructions, took a direct course toward Stony Island avenue. The large eight-foot fence around the fair grounds was only a temporary impediment and the animal, pausing for a moment in front of the high barrier gave one leap and was lost to the sight of the would-be pursuers. Improving his every opportunity, the kangaroo made a desperate run for freedom. The animal met the cowboy near the Fifty-seventh street entrance. The experienced steer catcher gave on whirl of his lariat and the spreading loop closed over the kangaroo's neck. Once more a captive, the stranger from Australia was led back to his den. When the kangaroo leaped the fence and was lost to sight the various tribes within the inclosure were attracted by new features of the escape. Tender John Marshall was feeding the birds passed out of the cage. Twenty-five rare European specimens flitted over the villages, as if rejoicing over their temporary freedom. Five owls escaped. One made its way out of the grounds and was recaptured after a long chase through Hyde Park. In the meantime the other fugitives had been recovered.

WHAT Artemus Ward used to call "an amoosin' little cuss," the kangaroo, escaped from Hagenback's animal show on Midway Plaissance yesterday, and, after nimbly leaping the eight-foot fence was lassoed by Buck Taylor, one of Buffalo Bill's cowpunchers. John Marshall, one of Hagenback's keepers, was so knocked out by the escape of the Australian biped that the left a bird cage open, and twenty-five rare birds fluttered out and away. IN their canvass of dangerous buildings

It would be hard to depict or even to imagine the emotions which the great city of Chicago and the great fair must excite in the breast of that fierce old warrior, Rain-in-the-Face. There is no doubt that many of the Indian chiefs who in the past have so valiantly led their people in their vain struggle against the encroaching civilization of the white man have had but an imperfect idea of the latter's power and resources. They have believed that civilization was represented only by what they saw in the far west, and that the troopers led against them formed the chief strength of the white man's army. Perhaps Rain-in-the-Face now gains for the first time a correct extinction that awaits any people, however brave, who oppose it. [?] Herald april 25/93

Herald April 26 OUT FOR A PRACTICE. _________________ BUFFALO BILL AND HIS INDIANS. __________________ The Wild-West Aggregation Gives an Afternoon Rehearsal on the Sandy Arena- Capers of the Cowboys- An Addition to the Herd. _________

THE CHICAGO RECORD WORLD'S FAIR BUREAU.

A motley crowd filled the space between the long row of tents in the Wild West show yesterday after dinner. Indians, with their blankets wrapped closely about them, gazed stolidly at the clouded sky. A number of Mexicans were trying to throw a lasso about the topmost branch of a tree, while near by a dozen Russian cossacks were engaged in a game much like that of "tag" played by the school children in this country. Then a sturdy young man clad in the uniform of the United States army stepped from one of the entrances. In his hand was a bugle. He raised the instrument to his lips and sent the stirring notes of assembly around through the camp.

The scene changed. The Indians stalked off to their tents, the Mexicans gathered up their ropes and the cossacks scampered to their quarters. The regular afternoon rehearsal was on.

Buffalo Bill, the star of the aggregation, shed his long astrakhan-trimmed overcoat, pulled his big slouch hat down to his cars and strode toward the arena. He looked at the big piece of scenery at the north end of the amphitheater with its rocky passes and winding rivers. Then he glanced nervously at the entrance. Another bugle blast and the show had commenced.

First came the grand review. Rocky Bear, Red Cloud and No-Neck, the three Sioux Indian chiefs who are so proud of their exploits on the plains that they refuse to associate with the rest of the red-skins, rode out. The big three were followed by the rest of the Indians on their ponies. The soldiers came in with a dash. A company from the 6th United States cavalry, in regulation uniform, lead, closely followed by the famous Pottsdamer Red of the German emperor's army, and after the German soldiers the Frenchmen of the Guarde REpublique Francaise. Then came a company of lancers from the prince of Wales' crack regiment. The English and German soldiers lances and sabers, while the French and Americans bore the short cavalry carbines and sabers. An illassorted line followed. Cossacks witht their long flowing coats led by Prince Ivan Mac-a-Radise perched on horses brought