68

"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 a boy then. We 'raised' the wolf in what is now known as Cincinnati, and chased him tho Sim Scruggs' mill, where the wolf was killed. Sim didn't like it much, but we got away with the game. Father was then a contractor at the fort, furnishing hay for the government. The wolf-chase was only a short time after the bill was introduced which admitted Kansas into the union. Weston, Mo., was a big town then. My Uncle, Elijah Cody, had a big store there. He afterward came to Leavenworth, and, in partnership with a Mr. Apt, had a grocery store on Main and Cherokee streets. My home at that time was in Salt Creek valley, where I lived for a long time. My father died there in 1857, and my mother died there in the old homestead in 1863. They were both buried at Pilot Knob, and I am going with my sisters Sunday,

TO VISIT THEIR GRAVES,

and see that tomb stones are put up. The bodies have been moved twice, but I think I can find the graves. I sent Jim Brown, one of the old-timers, out this afternoon to find the old sexton who buried them. we will all, my sisters and myself, go out to the Knob and find their graves."

Before Mr. Cody could say anything further, a countryman came up to the table where the noted scout and the reporter were sitting, and after looking up and down at the frontiersman asked:"

"Be you Buffler Bill?"
"Yes," Mr. Cody answered.
"I saw Ingins with you to-day."
"Yes."
"Are they real ones?"
"Yes."
"It's the first time I ever saw a real, live Indian. Be you goin' to hold anywhere to-night?:
"Yes; at the opera house."
"It ain't a hall, then?"
"No."
"Will it be with bolted doors?"
"No."
"Be free for everybody?"
"Yes."
The [reporter remarked?] that it would be free for seventy-five cents, or thereabouts, and the scout, with a laughing frown said, "You gave it away. It's the best thing I've seen for many a day."
"I was just looking at your long hair," said the countryman, "and was wonderin' ef you was bill. I'm jest a country feller, and jest about think I'll stay in town to-night and see the show."
"Very well," said Bill.
"I reckon it'll be good- sure enough hair-raisin' and all that?"

(Right column)
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.

The Prairie Waif.
The opera hous was crowded, last evening, with an intelligent audience, who were delighted with Mr. Cody's new play, the "Prairie-Waif."

There is not much in the play that is deep, it being one of "Bill's" wild, harem-scarem adventures, with the pathos thrown in by the author, who could have made it much more realistic, expecially as regards the military part of it. "Bill," however, was Bill Cody, and no writer of a play will make him anything else. His rifle shooting during the play was very fine. His duel with Yellow Hand was very exciting, and the rescue of General Brown's daughter, and the appearance of the boy's in blue with the stars and stripes upon the scene made a fine tableau. If ever Jule Keene comes to this part of the country again in the role of a Dutchman he must bring a suspender insurance company with him make an afffidavit to the effect that he won't make people's sides sore any more. His Hans was simply immense and his "Jeremiah," "Woa Jermiah," brought down the house every time. It was for a time guess work as to who made the most fun, Jerry, Hans, or Miss Nellie Lingard, as "Sadie." The Indian dance was true to life. Miss Jennie Gilbert, as Onita, won the hearts of all by her artless manner of acting. Wilson Charles as Captain Russel made many friends. Taking it all together the play, though light, was well received and was very enjoyable. Mr. Cody has many old friends in the city who are pleased with his success.

"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 a boy then. We 'raised' the wolf in what is now known as Cincinnati, and chased him tho Sim Scruggs' mill, where the wolf was killed. Sim didn't like it much, but we got away with the game. Father was then a contractor at the fort, furnishing hay for the government. The wolf-chase was only a short time after the bill was introduced which admitted Kansas into the union. Weston, Mo., was a big town then. My Uncle, Elijah Cody, had a big store there. He afterward came to Leavenworth, and, in partnership with a Mr. Apt, had a grocery store on Main and Cherokee streets. My home at that time was in Salt Creek valley, where I lived for a long time. My father died there in 1857, and my mother died there in the old homestead in 1863. They were both buried at Pilot Knob, and I am going with my sisters Sunday,

TO VISIT THEIR GRAVES,

and see that tomb stones are put up. The bodies have been moved twice, but I think I can find the graves. I sent Jim Brown, one of the old-timers, out this afternoon to find the old sexton who buried them. we will all, my sisters and myself, go out to the Knob and find their graves."

Before Mr. Cody could say anything further, a countryman came up to the table where the noted scout and the reporter were sitting, and after looking up and down at the frontiersman asked:"

"Be you Buffler Bill?"
"Yes," Mr. Cody answered.
"I saw Ingins with you to-day."
"Yes."
"Are they real ones?"
"Yes."
"It's the first time I ever saw a real, live Indian. Be you goin' to hold anywhere to-night?:
"Yes; at the opera house."
"It ain't a hall, then?"
"No."
"Will it be with bolted doors?"
"No."
"Be free for everybody?"
"Yes."
The [reporter remarked?] that it would be free for seventy-five cents, or thereabouts, and the scout, with a laughing frown said, "You gave it away. It's the best thing I've seen for many a day."
"I was just looking at your long hair," said the countryman, "and was wonderin' ef you was bill. I'm jest a country feller, and jest about think I'll stay in town to-night and see the show."
"Very well," said Bill.
"I reckon it'll be good- sure enough hair-raisin' and all that?"

(Right column)
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.