67

BUFFALO BILL

AT HIS OLD LEAVENWORTH HOME.

Shaking Hands With Scores of His Old Friends- Some Startling Events in His Career Recounted- His Performance Last Night.

Hon. W. F. Cody, better known as "Buffalo Bill," was met at the Continental hotel yesterday afternoon by a TIMES reporter, and a most pleasant conversation ensued.

Mr. Cody was dressed in a blue-tinged suit, with a cut-away coat, and wore his old favorite wide-brimmed, cow-boy hat. He, without any display, wore a heavy gold neck-chain, from which was suspended near his left vest pocket a huge gold horse-shoe, set with diamonds. His scarfpin is a solid old gold representation of a buffalo-head, with diamonds for eyes. His hair is long, hanging down to his shoulders, and is brown, almost dark enought to be called black.

He looks every inch the bold scout who was so vividly pictured by Ned Buntline, but is more of a gentleman than that well-known writer gave him credit for; yet he is the same in nearly every respect in appearance as in his boyhood, daring, reckless, whole-souled and generous. He clings to his old-style hat, and when among the boys snaps his fingers and says "what are you going to have?" with the full-heartedness for which he was always noted. His purse, which is well filled, is as free as his rifle was when he was a scout, suffering the privations of cold and wet on the plains, when the snapping of a twig or the creaking of a bough made slumber uneasy, and caused a blanket to be cautiously raised to look for a murderous Indian.

The conversation, in substance, was as follows, including interruptions, some of which were of a pleasant nature:

"When did you first arrive in Leavenworth, Mr. Cody?"

"In 1854, I accompanied my father and some officers from Fort Leavenworth in a wolf hunt, over the ground where the city now stands. I was a bit of boy then. We 'raised' the wolf in what is now...["]

(Right Column)
... landmarks were talked of on the old hills where Mr. Cody, as a boy had herded cattle the old post-office site on Delaware street and social affairs, here the Scout with considerable pride, spoke of a visit to his Nebraska ranch by his nephew Willie Goodman, who lives at Valley Falls. "yes" he said "he came to my ranch and staid quite a while, I gave him a gun and a coulple of ponies and started him out. (Willie shook hands with him an hour afterward.)

Resuming his conversation with the reporter he said:

"In 1876, I was imployed as a scout, by Gens. Crook and Terry. I was only thirty-five miles from Gen. Custer's command when he was killed. On the 17th day of July, 1876.

I HAD A DUEL

with Yellow-Hand, on War-Bonnet creek, in Dakota, and killed him. In the spring of 1877, I went into the cattle business, with Maj. Frank North, chief of the Pawnee scouts, and located at North Platte, Nebraska. I am now in the stock and real estate business. I like raising cattle and horses betrer than the stage, and will turn my attention to that branch of business after the next two years."

"You have made money in the theatrical business, have you not?"

"Yes, I have cleared $40,000 a year for five years. I made $56,000 one year."

"Have you much of a stock farm?"

"The firm of Cody & North, has 6,800 head of cattle and 400 head of horses. Our ranche is sixty-five miles northwest of North Platte, Nebraska, on Dismal river. Maj. North attends to the ranch while I am absent in the show business. My family lives at North Platte. I shall play only in the larger cities in the future, and will not go further west than Topeka this trip. I have had a brilliant offer

TO GO TO EUROPE,

but I contend that a man can make more money in America, than he can any place in the world. I don't play on the stage or do anothing else for the fun of the [thing?]; I work to make mone."

NOTES
Mr. Robert Armstrong, who lives in the city, recalled an incident, yesterday afternoon, where he was with a party on Prairie-Dog creek, in 1869, and being on the lookout for Indians, came very near firing into a party of soldiers who had Buffalo Bill in company. Just as the rifles were raised to fire the soldiers waved their white handkerchiefs and saved themselves, after which they joined Armstrong's party.

Buffalo Bill buried his favorite horse "Buckskin Joe," at his ranche in Nebraska, not long ago. The horse was twenty-five years old and had been in many an Indian fight.