"Yes," commented Mrs. Cody, "and where is your $250,000?"

"Well, I've got to make it yet," I said, and then to Rose: "How did the fall hit you?"

"What fall?"

"From millionaire to pauper."

"It hasn't got through hitting me yet," he said solemnly.

Rose went back to his grading contract, and I resumed my work as a buffalo hunter. When the Perry House, the Rome hotel, was moved to Hays City and rebuilt there, I took my wife and daughter and installed them there.

It was hard to descend from the rank of millionaires to that of graders and buffalo hunters, but we had to do it. The rise and fall of modern Rome had made us, and it broke us!

CHAPTER IV

I soon became better acquainted with Dr. Webb, through whose agency our town of Rome had fallen almost overnight. We visited him often in Hays, and eventually he presented my partner Rose and myself each with two lots in the new town.

Webb frequently accompanied me on buffalo-hunting excursions; and before he had been on the prairie a year there were few men who could kill more buffalo than he.

Once, when I was riding Brigham, and Webb was mounted on a splendid thoroughbred bay, we discovered a band of Indians about two miles distant, maneuvering so as to get between us and the town. A gallop of three miles brought us between them and home; but by that time they had come within three-quarters of a mile of us. We stopped to wave our hands at them, and fired a few shots at long range. But as there were thirteen in the party, and they were getting a little too close, we turned and struck out for Hays. They sent some scattering shots in pursuit, then wheeled and rode off toward the Saline River.

When there were no buffalo to hunt I tried the experiment of hitching Brigham to one of our railroad sc.r.a.pers, but he was not gaited for that sort of work. I had about given up the idea of extending his usefulness to railroading when news came that buffaloes were coming over the hill.

There had been none in the vicinity for some time. As a consequence, meat was scarce.

I took the harness from Brigham, mounted him bareback and started after the game, being armed with my new buffalo killer which I had named "Lucretia Borgia," an improved breech-loading needle-gun which I had obtained from the Government.

As I was riding toward the buffaloes I observed five men coming from the fort. They, too, had seen the herd and had come to join the chase.

As I neared them I saw that they were officers, newly arrived at the fort, a captain and four lieutenants.

"h.e.l.lo, my friend!" sang out the captain as they came up. "I see you are after the same game we are."

"Yes, sir," I returned. "I saw those buffaloes coming. We are out of fresh meat, so I thought I would get some."

The captain eyed my cheap-looking outfit closely. Brigham, though the best buffalo horse in the West, was decidedly unprepossessing in appearance.

"Do you expect to catch any buffaloes on that Gothic steed!" asked the captain, with a laugh.

"I hope so."

"You'll never catch them in the world, my fine fellow. It requires a fast horse to overtake those animals."

"Does it?" I asked innocently.

"Yes. But come along with us. We're going to kill them more for the sport than anything else. After we take the tongues and a piece of the tenderloin, you may have what is left."

Eleven animals were in the herd, which was about a mile distant. I noticed they were making toward the creek for water. I knew buffalo nature, and was aware that it would be difficult to turn them from their course. I therefore started toward the creek to head them off, while the officers dashed madly up behind them.

The herd came rushing up past me, not a hundred yards distant, while their pursuers followed, three hundred yards in the rear.

"Now," thought I, "is the time to get in my work." I pulled the blind bridle from Brigham, who knew as well as I did what was expected of him. The moment he was free of the bridle he set out at top speed, running in ahead of the officers. In a few jumps he brought me alongside the rear buffalo. Raising old "Lucretia Borgia," I killed the animal with one shot. On went Brigham to the next buffalo, ten feet farther along, and another was disposed of. As fast as one animal would fall, Brigham would pa.s.s to the next, getting so close that I could almost touch it with my gun. In this fashion I killed eleven buffaloes with twelve shots.

As the last one dropped my horse stopped. I jumped to the ground.

Turning round to the astonished officers, who had by this time caught up, I said:

"Now, gentlemen, allow me to present you with all the tongues and tenderloins from these animals that you want."

Captain Graham, who, I soon learned, was the senior officer, gasped.

"Well, I never saw the like before! Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is Cody," I said.

Lieutenant Thompson, one of the party, who had met me at Fort Harker, cried out: "Why, that is Bill Cody, our old scout." He introduced me to his comrades, Captain Graham and Lieutenants Reed, Emmick, and Ezekial.

Graham, something of a horseman himself, greatly admired Brigham. "That horse of yours has running points," he admitted.

The officers were a little sore at not getting a single shot; but the way I had killed the buffaloes, they said, amply repaid them for their disappointment. It was the first time they had ever seen or heard of a white man running buffaloes without either saddle or bridle.

I told them Brigham knew nearly as much about the business as I did. He was a wonderful horse. If the buffalo did not fall at the first shot he would stop to give me a second chance; but if, on the second shot, I did not kill the game, he would go on impatiently as if to say: "I can't fool away my time by giving you more than two shots!"

Captain Graham told me that he would be stationed at Fort Hays during the summer. In the event of his being sent out on a scouting expedition he wanted me as scout and guide. I said that although I was very busy with my railroad contract I would be glad to go with him.

That night the Indians unexpectedly raided our horses, and ran off five or six of the best work-teams. At daylight I jumped on Brigham, rode to Fort Hays, and reported the raid to the commanding officer. Captain Graham and Lieutenant Emmick were ordered out with their company of one hundred colored troops. In an hour we were under way. The darkies had never been in an Indian fight and were anxious to "sweep de red debbils off de face ob de earth." Graham was a dashing officer, eager to make a record, and it was with difficulty that I could trail fast enough to keep out of the way of the impatient soldiers. Every few moments the captain would ride up to see if the trail was freshening, and to ask how soon we would overtake the marauders.

At the Saline River we found the Indians had stopped only to graze and water the animals and had pushed on toward Solomon. After crossing the river they made no effort to conceal their trail, thinking they were safe from pursuit. We reached Solomon at sunset. Requesting Captain Graham to keep his command where it was, I went ahead to try to locate the redmen.

Riding down a ravine that led to the river, I left my horse, and, creeping uphill, looked cautiously over the summit upon Solomon. In plain sight, not a mile away, was a herd of horses grazing, among them the animals which had been stolen from us. Presently I made out the Indian camp, noted its "lay," and calculated how best we could approach it.

Graham's eyes danced with excitement when I reported the prospect of an immediate encounter. We decided to wait until the moon rose, and then make a sudden dash, taking the redskins by surprise.

We thought we had everything cut and dried, but alas! just as we were nearing the point where we were to take the open ground and make our charge, one of the colored gentlemen became so excited that he fired his gun.

We began the charge immediately, but the warning had been sounded. The Indians at once sprang to their horses, and were away before we reached their camp. Captain Graham shouted, "Follow me, boys!" and follow him we did, but in the darkness the Indians made good their escape. The bugle sounded the recall, but some of the darkies did not get back to camp until the next morning, having, in their fright, allowed the horses to run wherever it suited them to go.

We followed the trail awhile the next day, but it became evident that it would be a long chase, and as we were short of rations we started back to camp. Captain Graham was bitterly disappointed at being cheated out of a fight that seemed at hand. He roundly cursed the darky who bad given, the warning with his gun. That gentleman, as a punishment, was compelled to walk all the way back to Fort Hays.

The western end of the Kansas Pacific was at this time in the heart of the buffalo country. Twelve hundred men were employed in the construction of the road. The Indians were very troublesome, and it was difficult to obtain fresh meat for the hands. The company therefore concluded to engage expert hunters to kill buffaloes.

Having heard of my experience and success as a buffalo hunter, G.o.ddard Brothers, who had the contract for feeding the men, made me a good offer to become their hunter. They said they would require about twelve buffaloes a day--twenty-four hams and twelve humps, as only the hump and hindquarters of each animal were utilized. The work was dangerous.

Indians were riding all over that section of the country, and my duties would require me to journey from five to ten miles from the railroad every day in order to secure the game, accompanied by only one man with a light wagon to haul the meat back to camp. I demanded a large salary, which they could well afford to pay, as the meat itself would cost them nothing. Under the terms of the contract which I signed with them, I was to receive five hundred dollars a month, agreeing on my part to supply them with all the meat they wanted.

Leaving Rose to complete our grading contract, I at once began my career as a buffalo hunter for the Kansas Pacific. It was not long before I acquired a considerable reputation, and it was at this time that the t.i.tle "Buffalo Bill" was conferred upon me by the railroad hands. Of this t.i.tle, which has stuck to me through life, I have never been ashamed.

During my engagement as hunter for the company, which covered a period of eighteen months, I killed 4,280 buffaloes and had many exciting adventures with the Indians, including a number of hairbreadth escapes, some of which are well worth relating.

One day, in the spring of 1868, I mounted Brigham and started for Smoky Hill River. After a gallop of twenty miles I reached the top of a small hill overlooking that beautiful stream. Gazing out over the landscape, I saw a band of about thirty Indians some half-mile distant. I knew by the way they jumped on their horses they had seen me as soon as I saw them.