CAPTURING A HERD OF PONIES.
While at the fort the colonel in command complained at the non-arrival
of a drove of Government horses, as he was anxious to make a raid into
the Indian country, and Buffalo Bill volunteered to go and hurry the
cattle on.
He had been gone but a few hours from the fort when he crossed a trail
which he knew to have been made by a large Indian village on the move.
Cautiously he followed it, and just at sunset came in sight of the camp,
pitched at the head of a valley, and saw below a large herd of horses
grazing.
To return to the fort for aid he knew would take too long, so he
determined to make an attempt to capture the herd himself, and, with his
field-glass carefully reconnoitered the surroundings as long as it was
light.
He saw that the nature of the valley was such that the herd could only
escape by two ways, one through the Indian village and the other at the
lower end, where he had observed four warriors placed as a guard and
herders.
"That is my quartette," he said to himself, and mounting Brigham he
began to make his way around to the lower end of the valley.
After an hour's ride he gained the desired point, and then set down to
work.
Carrying with him in case of need a complete Indian costume, he was not
long in rigging himself up in it and painting his face.
Then he left Brigham in a canyon near by and cautiously approached the
entrance to the valley, which was not more than two hundred yards wide
at this point.
Peering through the darkness he saw the four dark objects, about equal
distances apart, which he knew were the ponies of the four warriors on
guard, and that they were lying down near in the grass he felt
confident.
Getting past the line of herders he boldly advanced toward the one
nearest the hill on the left, and knew he would be taken for some chief
coming from the village and accordingly not dreaded.
It was just as he had expected: the Indian herder saw him coming
directly from the village, as he believed and did not even rise from the
grass as Buffalo Bill drew near.
With a word in Sioux Buffalo Bill advanced and suddenly threw himself
upon the prostrate warrior.
There was a short struggle, but no cry, as the scout's hand grasped the
red-skin's throat, and then all was still, the Indian pony lariated
near, not even stopping his grazing.
Throwing the red-skin's blanket over his body, Buffalo Bill moved away a
few paces to where the pony stood, and called to the next herder in the
Sioux tongue to come to him.
The unsuspecting warrior obeyed, and the next instant found himself in a
gripe of iron and a knife blade piercing his heart.
"This is red work, but it is man to man and in a few days the whole band
would make a strike upon the settlements," muttered the scout, as he
moved slowly toward the position his enemy had left at his call.
As he reached the spot he saw the third warrior standing on his post and
boldly walked up to him, when again the same short, fierce, silent fight
followed and Buffalo Bill arose from the ground a victor.
The fourth, and only remaining guard he knew was over under the shadow
of the hill, and thither he went.
Arriving near he did not see him, and looking around suddenly discovered
him asleep at the foot of a tree.
"I'd like to let you sleep, Mr. Red-skin, but you'd wake up at the wrong
time, so you must follow your comrades to the happy hunting-grounds," he
muttered, as he bent over and seized the throat of the Indian in his
powerful gripe.
The warrior was almost a giant in size, and he made a fierce fight for
his life.
But the iron hold on his throat did not relax, and at last his efforts
ceased and his grasp upon the scout, which had been so great he could
not use his knife, weakened and there was no more show of resistance.
Then not an instant did Buffalo Bill tarry, but went up the valley,
rounded up the herd of horses and quickly drove them away from the
village, in which he knew slept half a thousand warriors.
Slowly he moved the large brute mass, and they went toward the mouth of
the valley and were soon out upon the prairie.
Then mounting Brigham he urged them on until out of hearing of the camp,
when he headed them for the fort.
It was a hard drive and taxed both Brigham and his rider fearfully; but
at last the herd was driven to a good grazing place a few miles from the
fort and Buffalo Bill left them and rode rapidly on, and just at dawn
reported his valuable capture and that the same horses could be used in
an attack upon the Indian camp.
The colonel at once acted upon his suggestion; the cavalrymen who had no
horses, loaded with their saddles, bridles and arms, went at a quick
march to the grazing place of the horses, and ere the day was three
hours old three hundred men were mounted and on the trail for the
red-skin village, while the remainder of the ponies were driven to the
fort.
Deprived of the greater part of their horses, the red-skins could march
but slowly; but they were in full retreat when Buffalo Bill led the
command in sight of them, and though the dismounted warriors fought
bravely, they were severely whipped and all their village equipage
captured or destroyed, while instead of attacking the white settlements
as they had intended, they were glad enough to beg for relief.
This gallant act made the name of Buffalo Bill, or Pa-e-has-ka (Long
Hair), as they called him, known to every Indian on the north-west
border, and they regarded him with the greatest terror, while it made
him an idol among the soldiers.