51

49
A great loss to us was "Buffalo Bill." He left his "pardner, " Jim White, with us to finish the campaign as scout; and we little thought that those two sworn friends were meeting for the last time on earth when "BUFFALO CHIPS" bade good-bye to "BUFFALO BILL." "CHIPS" remained in his capacity as scout, though he seemed sorely to miss his "pardner."

"It was just two weeks after that we struck the Sioux at Slim Buttes, something of which I told you in a former chapter. You may remember that the Fifth had ridden in haste to the relief of Major Mills, who had surprised the Indians away in our front early Saturday morning, had whipped them in panicky confusion our of their "tepees" into the neighboring rocks, and then ad to fight on the defensive against ugly odds until we rode in to the rescue. As the head of our column jogged in among the lodges, and General Carr directed us to keep on down to face the bluffs to the south, Mills pointed to a ravine opening out into the village, with the warning. "Look our for that gully; there are Indians hidden there, and they've knocked over some of my men."

Everybody was too budy just then to pay much attention to two or three wounded Indians in a hole. We were sure of getting them when wanted. So, placing a couple of sentries where they could warn stragglers away from its front, we formed line along the south and west of the captured village, and got everything ready to resist the attack we knew they would soon make in full force.

General Crook had arrived on the scene, and, while we were waiting for "Lo" to resume the offensive, some few scouts and packers started in to have a little fun "rousting out them Injuns." Half a dozen soldiers got permission to go over and join in while the rest of us were hungrily hunting about for something to eat. The next thing, we heard a volley from the ravine, and saw the scouts and packers scattering for cover. One soldier held his ground--shot dead. Another momet, and it became apparent that not one or two, but a dozen Indians were crouching somewhere in that narrow gorge, and the move to get them out addumed proportion. Lieutenant Clark, of General Crook's staff, sprang into the entrance carbine in hand, and a score of cavalrymen followed, while the scouts and others went cautiously along either bank, peering warily into the cave-like darkness at the head. A squad came tearing over, just as a second volley came from the concealed foe, and three more of our men dropped bleeding, in their tracks. Now our people were fairly arroused , and officers and men by dozens hurried to the scene. The misty air rang with shoty, and the chances looked bad for those redskins. Just at this moment, as I was running over from the western side, I caught sight of "CHIPS" on the opposite crest. All alone, he was cautiosly making his waym on hands and knees, toward the head of the ravine, where he could look down upon the Indians beneath. As yet he was protected from their fire by the bank itself--his lean form distinctly outline against the easter sky. He reached a stunted tree that grew on the very edge of the gorge, and there he halted, brought his rifle close under his shoulder, in readiness to aim, and then raised himself slowly to his feet, lifting his head higher, higher, as he peered over. Suddenly a quick, eager light shone in his face, a sharp movement of his rifle as though he were about to raise it to his shoulder, when, bang!--a puff of white smoke floated from the head of the ravine, "CHIPS" sprang up convulsively in the air, clasping his hands to his breast, and with one startled, agonizing cry, "Oh my God, boys!" plunged heavily forward on his face, down the slop--shot through the heart.

"Two minutes more, what Indians were left alive were prisoners and that costly experiment at an end. That evening, after the repulse of the grand attack of "ROMAN NOSE" and "STABBER'S" warriors, and, 'twas said, hundreds of "CRAZY HORSE'S" band, we buried poor "CHIPS," with our other dead, in a deep ravine. "WILD BILL," "CALIFORNIA JOE," COSGROVE, and "TEXAS JACK" have long since gone to their last account, but, among those who knew them, no scout was more universally mourned than "BUFFALO BILL'S" devoted friend, JIM WHITE.

THE SIOUX AND WILD WEST SHOWS.

Editorial from the New York Sun.

The permission granted by the Interior Department to BUFFALO BILL to engage 100 Sioux Indians for his Wild West Show, is a great victory for BILL. It is more a conspicuous success even than that which he achieved during the recent Pine Ridge Campaign, when as Brigadier General commanding the Nebraska State forces, he received a written acknowledgement of

49
A great loss to us was "Buffalo Bill." He left his "pardner, " Jim White, with us to finish the campaign as scout; and we little thought that those two sworn friends were meeting for the last time on earth when "BUFFALO CHIPS" bade good-bye to "BUFFALO BILL." "CHIPS" remained in his capacity as scout, though he seemed sorely to miss his "pardner."

"It was just two weeks after that we struck the Sioux at Slim Buttes, something of which I told you in a former chapter. You may remember that the Fifth had ridden in haste to the relief of Major Mills, who had surprised the Indians away in our front early Saturday morning, had whipped them in panicky confusion our of their "tepees" into the neighboring rocks, and then ad to fight on the defensive against ugly odds until we rode in to the rescue. As the head of our column jogged in among the lodges, and General Carr directed us to keep on down to face the bluffs to the south, Mills pointed to a ravine opening out into the village, with the warning. "Look our for that gully; there are Indians hidden there, and they've knocked over some of my men."

Everybody was too budy just then to pay much attention to two or three wounded Indians in a hole. We were sure of getting them when wanted. So, placing a couple of sentries where they could warn stragglers away from its front, we formed line along the south and west of the captured village, and got everything ready to resist the attack we knew they would soon make in full force.

General Crook had arrived on the scene, and, while we were waiting for "Lo" to resume the offensive, some few scouts and packers started in to have a little fun "rousting out them Injuns." Half a dozen soldiers got permission to go over and join in while the rest of us were hungrily hunting about for something to eat. The next thing, we heard a volley from the ravine, and saw the scouts and packers scattering for cover. One soldier held his ground--shot dead. Another momet, and it became apparent that not one or two, but a dozen Indians were crouching somewhere in that narrow gorge, and the move to get them out addumed proportion. Lieutenant Clark, of General Crook's staff, sprang into the entrance carbine in hand, and a score of cavalrymen followed, while the scouts and others went cautiously along either bank, peering warily into the cave-like darkness at the head. A squad came tearing over, just as a second volley came from the concealed foe, and three more of our men dropped bleeding, in their tracks. Now our people were fairly arroused , and officers and men by dozens hurried to the scene. The misty air rang with shoty, and the chances looked bad for those redskins. Just at this moment, as I was running over from the western side, I caught sight of "CHIPS" on the opposite crest. All alone, he was cautiosly making his waym on hands and knees, toward the head of the ravine, where he could look down upon the Indians beneath. As yet he was protected from their fire by the bank itself--his lean form distinctly outline against the easter sky. He reached a stunted tree that grew on the very edge of the gorge, and there he halted, brought his rifle close under his shoulder, in readiness to aim, and then raised himself slowly to his feet, lifting his head higher, higher, as he peered over. Suddenly a quick, eager light shone in his face, a sharp movement of his rifle as though he were about to raise it to his shoulder, when, bang!--a puff of white smoke floated from the head of the ravine, "CHIPS" sprang up convulsively in the air, clasping his hands to his breast, and with one startled, agonizing cry, "Oh my God, boys!" plunged heavily forward on his face, down the slop--shot through the heart.

"Two minutes more, what Indians were left alive were prisoners and that costly experiment at an end. That evening, after the repulse of the grand attack of "ROMAN NOSE" and "STABBER'S" warriors, and, 'twas said, hundreds of "CRAZY HORSE'S" band, we buried poor "CHIPS," with our other dead, in a deep ravine. "WILD BILL," "CALIFORNIA JOE," COSGROVE, and "TEXAS JACK" have long since gone to their last account, but, among those who knew them, no scout was more universally mourned than "BUFFALO BILL'S" devoted friend, JIM WHITE.

THE SIOUX AND WILD WEST SHOWS.

Editorial from the New York Sun.

The permission granted by the Interior Department to BUFFALO BILL to engage 100 Sioux Indians for his Wild West Show, is a great victory for BILL. It is more a conspicuous success even than that which he achieved during the recent Pine Ridge Campaign, when as Brigadier General commanding the Nebraska State forces, he received a written acknowledgement of