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he slept soundly until nearly five o'clock in the evening, when, having replenished his canteen, he mounted the patient mule and set our for Fort Larned, which was sixty-five miles East of Fort Dodge.

After proceeding as far as Coon Creek, which was nearly half way, Bill dismounted for the purpose of getting a drink of water. While stooping down the mule got frightened at something and jerked loose, nor did the stupid animal stop, but followed the trail, keeping ahead of the weary and chagrined scout for thirty-five miles. Half a mile from the Fort Bill got within rifle range of his exasperating steed and gave him a furlough to the eternal grazing grounds.

After reaching Larned -- carrying the bridle and saddle himself -- Buffalo Bill spent several hours in refreshing sleep, and when he awakened he found Gen. Hazen trying to induce some of the couriers to take his dispatches to Gen. Sheridan, at Fort Hays. Having been warmly and very justly praised for the long and perilous rides he had just completed, Bill again proffered his services to perform the trip. At first Gen. Hazen refused to dispatch him on the mission, saying: "This is like riding a free horse to death; you have already ridden enough to kill an ordinary man, and I don't think it would be treating you properly to permit you to make this additional journey."

But when evening came and no other volunteer could be engaged, as a matter of last resort Bill was given a good horse and the dispatches entrusted to him for transmission. It was after nightfall when he started on this last trip, and by daylight the next morning he was in Fort Hays, where he delivered the dispatches. Gen. Sheridan was profoundly astonished to see Bill before him again in so short a time, and after being informed of his wonderful riding during the three days, the General pronounced it a feat that was never equaled; and even now Gen. Sheridan maintains that no other man could accomplish the same distance under similar circumstances. To this day the rides here described stand on record as the most remarkable ever made. They aggregated three hundred and fifty-five miles in fifty-eight riding hours, or an average of more than six miles an hour, including an enforced walk of thirty-five miles. When it is considered that all this distance was made in the night time, and through a country full of hostile Indians, without a road to follow, or a bridge to cross the streams, the feat appears too incredible for belief were it not for the most indisputable evidence, easily attainable, which makes disbelief impossible.

Gen. Sheridan was so favorably impressed with the self-sacrificing spirit and marvelous endurance of Buffalo Bill, and being already acquainted with his reputation as a brave man, that he called the scout to his headquarters directly after receiving Major Hazen's dispatches, and said:

"Cody, I have ordered the Fifth Cavalry to proceed against the Dog Soldier Indians, who are now terrorizing the Republican River district, and as the campaign will be a very important one, I want a first-class man to guide the expedition. I have therefore decided to appoint you guide, and also Chief of scouts of the command."
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ON A MUSTANG.
BY THE EDITOR OF TEXAS SIFTINGS.

The majority of Texas ponies buck, or pitch, as it is sometimes termed, whenever circumstances seem to demand an exhibition of this facetious break, or the condition of things seems to justify the sportive caprice. In fact, some ponies will buck for hours, only stopping to get breath for a fresh start. This kind is recommended for the use of dyspeptics and invalids suffering from torpidity of liver. A pitching mustang, when working on full time and strictly devoting his attention to business, is the most moving sight I ever beheld. His spine seems to be of whalebone, and he appears to possess all the elements of a steamboat explosion, a high pressure pile-driver, an earthquake, in addition to the enthusiasm of a county convention. We were glad to find that ours were not bucking ponies, and we congratulated each other on the fortunate circumstance. Of course, as we argued, if there had been any buck in them it would have developed itself at an early stage in the journey. Understand, we were not afraid. I named my pony "Deliberation"; the name seemed so appropriate -- no pomp or circumstance about him -- and he was so gentle and tranquil; nothing seemed to flurry him. You could throw the reins on his neck and strike a match on the pommel of the saddle. I say you could do this, but the after fate of that match would be of no moment to you; you would be otherwise engaged. I regret to say that I tried the experiment. I lighted a match -- at least I think I did -- but there was a haziness about the subsequent proceedings that prevents accuracy of statement. I distinctly remember striking the match. At that moment, however, I was fluently propelled upwards; a tornado caught me -- whirled me around eleven times. As I came down a pile-driver drove me in the stomach, and I came to earth with that sensation (onlyl intensified) that a man feels who sits down in what he imagines to be a high chair, and which he afterwards thinks was about seven feet lower than his estimate. I saw whole milky ways of constellations taht never before existed. I realize for the first time the dense solidity of the earth, and made the astonishing discovery that under certain circumstances our planet, instead of revolving on its own axis once in every twenty-four hours, can rush around at the rate of at least one hundred revolutions a minute.

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