CONCLUSION.
After my arrival at North Platte, I found that the ranchmen or
cattle-men, had organized a regular annual "round-up," to take place in
the spring of the year.
The word "round-up" is derived from the fact that during the winter
months the cattle become scattered over a vast tract of land, and the
ranchmen assemble together in the spring to sort out and each secure his
own stock. They form a large circle, often of a circumference of two
hundred miles, and drive the cattle towards a common centre, where, all
the stock being branded, each owner can readily separate his own from the
general herd, and then he drives them to his own ranch.
In this cattle driving business is exhibited some most magnificent
horsemanship, for the "cow-boys," as they are called, are invariably
skillful and fearless horsemen--in fact only a most expert rider could be
a cow-boy, as it requires the greatest dexterity and daring in the saddle
to cut a wild steer out of the herd.
Major North was awaiting me, upon my arrival at North Platte, having with
him our own horses and men. Other cattle owners, such as Keith and
Barton, Coe and Carter, Jack Pratt, the Walker Brothers, Guy and Sim
Lang, Arnold and Ritchie and a great many others with their outfits, were
assembled and were ready to start on the round-up.
My old friend Dave Perry, who had presented Buckskin Joe to me, and who
resided at North Platte, was most anxious to go with us for pleasure, and
Frank North told him he could, and have plenty of fun, provided he would
furnish his own horses, provisions and bedding, and do the usual work
required of a cow-boy. This, Dave was willing to undertake. We found him
to be a good fellow in camp, and excellent company.
As there is nothing but hard work on these round-ups, having to be in the
saddle all day, and standing guard over the cattle at night, rain or
shine, I could not possibly find out where the fun came in, that North
had promised me. But it was an exciting life, and the days sped rapidly
by; in six weeks we found ourselves at our own ranch on Dismal river, the
round-up having proved a great success, as we had found all our cattle
and driven them home.
This work being over, I proposed to spend a few weeks with my family at
North Platte, for the purpose of making their better acquaintance, for my
long and continued absence from home made me a comparative stranger under
my own roof-tree. One great source of pleasure to me was that my wife was
delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far
west. Soon after my arrival, my sisters Nellie and May, came to make us a
visit, and a delightful time we all had during their stay. When they left
us, I accompanied them to their home in Denver, Colorado, where I passed
several days visiting old friends and scenes.
Returning to Ogallala I purchased from Bill Phant, an extensive cattle
drover from Texas, a herd of cattle, which I drove to my ranch on the
Dismal river, after which I bade my partner and the boys good-bye, and
started for the Indian Territory to procure Indians for my Dramatic
Combination for the season of 1878-79.
_En route_ to the Territory, I paid a long promised visit to my sisters,
Julia--Mrs. J.A. Goodman--and Eliza--Mrs. George M. Myers--who reside in
Kansas, the state which the reader will remember was my boyhood home.
Having secured my Indian actors, and along with them Mr. O. A. Burgess, a
government interpreter, and Ed. A. Burgess, known as the "Boy Chief of
the Pawnees," I started for Baltimore, where I organized my combination,
and which was the largest troupe I had yet had on the road; opening in
that city at the Opera House, under the management of Hon. John T. Ford,
and then started on a southern tour, playing in Washington, Richmond and
as far south as Savannah, Georgia, where we were brought to a sudden
halt, owing to the yellow fever which was then cruelly raging in the
beautiful cities of the "Land of the cotton and the cane."
[Illustration: ONE OF THE TROUPE.]
While playing in Washington, I suddenly learned from a
reporter--Washington newspaper men know everything--that my Indians were
to be seized by the Government and sent back to their agency. Finding
that there was foundation for the rumor, I at once sought General Carl
Shurz, Secretary of the Interior, and asked him if he intended depriving
me of my Indian actors. He said that he did, as the Indians were away
from their reservation without leave. I answered that I had had Indians
with me the year before and nothing had been said about it; but
Commissioner Haight replied that the Indians were the "wards of the
government," and were not allowed off of their reservation.
I told the Commissioner that the Indians were frequently off of their
reservations out west, as I had a distinct remembrance of meeting them
upon several occasions "on the war path," and furthermore I thought I was
benefitting the Indians as well as the government, by taking them all
over the United States, and giving them a correct idea of the customs,
life, etc., of the pale faces, so that when they returned to their people
they could make known all they had seen.
After a conversation with the Secretary of the Interior, the Commissioner
concluded to allow me to retain the Indians, by appointing me Indian
Agent, provided I would give the necessary bonds, and pledge myself to
return them in safety to their agency--which terms I agreed to.
From Savannah, Georgia, having changed my route on account of the yellow
fever, I jumped my entire company to Philadelphia, and at once continued
on a north-eastern tour, having arranged with the well-known author and
dramatist, Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, to write a play for me.
The drama entitled "The Knight of the Plains, or Buffalo Bill's Best
Trail," was first produced at New Haven, Conn.; it has proved a great
success, and I expect to play it in England, where I purpose to go next
season on a theatrical tour, having been urged to do so by my many
friends abroad.
After a successful tour of six weeks on the Pacific Slope, thus ending
the season of 1878-79, I am at my home at North Platte, Nebraska, for the
summer; and thus ends the account of my career as far as it has gone.
THE END.