About one year after the killing of Phil Cole at Abilene, Wild Bill
had occasion to visit Wichita, Kansas, on some private business. He
made the trip on horseback, there being no other mode of travel between
the two places. Bill was acquainted with no one in Wichita, and habit
caused him to make his first stop in the place before a saloon, where
he hitched his horse and went in. There was no one in the saloon at
the time of his entrance; so Bill took a seat expecting the proprietor
had just stepped out and would be back in a short time. While he was
sitting beside a table reading a newspaper, a stranger stepped in and
enquired:
“Is your name Wild Bill?”
“That is what they call me,” responded Bill.
“Then take that,” said the stranger, drawing a pistol and shooting at
Bill. The muzzle of the pistol was so close that the flash burned
Bill’s face and the bullet struck him at the base of the hair on the
left side of his forehead and cut out a furrow of flesh and hair. Bill
fell unconscious, but the saloon-keeper coming in a moment after the
shot was fired, threw some water in his face and consciousness was soon
restored.
The stranger jumped on his horse after discharging the shot and rode
off furiously towards the south.
It was hardly ten minutes after the shooting before Bill had recovered
sufficiently from the stunning effects of the shot to mount his horse
and start in pursuit of his unknown assailant.
Bill was mounted on an excellent horse, and as he had no difficulty
in ascertaining the route taken by the stranger, the ride was a fast
and furious one. The pursued and pursuer, after a running ride of
thirty miles, came in sight of each other, and a desperate fight was
now prepared for. The stranger supposed he had killed Bill and was
being pursued by some officer of justice; but Bill was urged on by his
excessive hunger for revenge, and it soon came--terrible enough. When
about fifty yards apart, Bill discharged his pistol at the stranger,
but the ball struck and disabled the horse. There was then an exchange
of shots and the stranger lay dead on the ground with a bullet in
his brain. Not satisfied with killing the man, Bill stooped over the
prostrate body and drawing a bowie-knife from its sheath, he cut a
slice out of the stranger’s head which he considered would correspond
with the wound in his own. This bloody trophy Bill carried with him for
years afterwards--a dried piece of flesh and hair.
The stranger proved to be a cousin of Phil Cole, the gambler, and from
facts gathered afterwards, it was shown that he had long sought an
opportunity to avenge his cousin’s death. The revenge was, however,
visited upon the head of the avenger.