Buffalo Bill’s Big Surprise
OR,
The Biggest Stampede on Record
BY
Colonel Prentiss Ingraham
Author of the celebrated “Buffalo Bill” stories published in the
BORDER STORIES. For other titles see catalogue.
[Illustration: (Colophon)]
STREET & SMITH CORPORATION
PUBLISHERS
79-89 Seventh Avenue, New York
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| Copyright, 1914 |
| By STREET & SMITH |
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| Buffalo Bill’s Big Surprise |
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All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign
languages, including the Scandinavian.
CONTENTS
PAGE
IN APPRECIATION OF WILLIAM F. CODY 1
I. BAD NEWS. 5
II. THE OUTLAWS’ ALLY 11
III. PLOTTING WITH A FOE. 15
IV. BURSTING SHELLS. 22
V. THE RETURN. 31
VI. THE FORGED LETTER. 48
VII. THE FLIGHT. 56
VIII. IN THE INDIAN VILLAGE. 65
IX. BUFFALO BILL’S BOLD VENTURE. 86
X. THE RESCUER REACHES THE GOAL. 91
XI. THE GUARD OF HONOR. 96
XII. CORRALLED BY INDIANS. 101
XIII. THE RIDE FOR HELP. 107
XIV. THE BLACK TROOPERS AT BAY. 113
XV. A VERY STRANGE FIND. 118
XVI. THE NEGRO MESSENGER. 123
XVII. TWO SHOTS. 129
XVIII. THE BAD MAN OF THE BIG HORN. 137
XIX. A DOUBLE ESCAPE. 143
XX. BLACK SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL. 147
XXI. TO THE RESCUE. 152
XXII. BLACK BILL’S LONE HAND. 159
XXIII. BLACK BILL’S PRISONER. 165
XXIV. THE LOST VALLEY. 171
XXV. UNSEEN FOES. 178
XXVI. FACE TO FACE WITH ENEMIES. 185
XXVII. A DISCOVERY. 194
XXVIII. A LIVING TOMB. 201
XXIX. THE RESCUE. 207
XXX. OUT OF DEVIL’S DEN. 212
XXXI. ANOTHER STRANGE STORY. 215
XXXII. UNDER A CURSE. 223
XXXIII. THE HACIENDA. 230
XXXIV. HAUNTED. 237
XXXV. THE SEARCH OF THE RUIN. 243
XXXVI. THE FIRST NIGHT. 249
XXXVII. A DEAD GHOST. 255
XXXVIII. ON SECRET WORK. 261
XXXIX. THE SCOUT’S RETURN. 270
XL. THE SHOT ON THE CLIFF. 281
XLI. THE FIGHT IN THE SLEUTHS’ CAMP. 289
XLII. A STARTLING VISIT. 302
XLIII. THE FAIR HERMIT. 310
XLIV. REVEALED. 316
IN APPRECIATION OF WILLIAM F. CODY
(BUFFALO BILL).
It is now some generations since Josh Billings, Ned Buntline, and
Colonel Prentiss Ingraham, intimate friends of Colonel William F.
Cody, used to forgather in the office of Francis S. Smith, then
proprietor of the _New York Weekly_. It was a dingy little office on
Rose Street, New York, but the breath of the great outdoors stirred
there when these old-timers got together. As a result of these
conversations, Colonel Ingraham and Ned Buntline began to write of
the adventures of Buffalo Bill for Street & Smith.
Colonel Cody was born in Scott County, Iowa, February 26, 1846.
Before he had reached his teens, his father, Isaac Cody, with his
mother and two sisters, migrated to Kansas, which at that time was
little more than a wilderness.
When the elder Cody was killed shortly afterward in the Kansas
“Border War,” young Bill assumed the difficult rôle of family
breadwinner. During 1860, and until the outbreak of the Civil War,
Cody lived the arduous life of a pony-express rider. Cody volunteered
his services as government scout and guide and served throughout
the Civil War with Generals McNeil and A. J. Smith. He was a
distinguished member of the Seventh Kansas Cavalry.
During the Civil War, while riding through the streets of St. Louis,
Cody rescued a frightened schoolgirl from a band of annoyers. In true
romantic style, Cody and Louisa Federci, the girl, were married March
6, 1866.
In 1867 Cody was employed to furnish a specified amount of buffalo
meat to the construction men at work on the Kansas Pacific Railroad.
It was in this period that he received the sobriquet “Buffalo Bill.”
In 1868 and for four years thereafter Colonel Cody served as scout
and guide in campaigns against the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians. It was
General Sheridan who conferred on Cody the honor of chief of scouts
of the command.
After completing a period of service in the Nebraska legislature,
Cody joined the Fifth Cavalry in 1876, and was again appointed chief
of scouts.
Colonel Cody’s fame had reached the East long before, and a great
many New Yorkers went out to see him and join in his buffalo hunts,
including such men as August Belmont, James Gordon Bennett, Anson
Stager, and J. G. Heckscher. In entertaining these visitors at Fort
McPherson, Cody was accustomed to arrange wild-West exhibitions. In
return his friends invited him to visit New York. It was upon seeing
his first play in the metropolis that Cody conceived the idea of
going into the show business.
Assisted by Ned Buntline, novelist, and Colonel Ingraham, he started
his “Wild West” show, which later developed and expanded into “A
Congress of the Rough Riders of the World,” first presented at Omaha,
Nebraska. In time it became a familiar yearly entertainment in the
great cities of this country and Europe. Many famous personages
attended the performances, and became his warm friends, including Mr.
Gladstone, the Marquis of Lorne, King Edward, Queen Victoria, and the
Prince of Wales, now King of England.
At the outbreak of the Sioux, in 1890 and 1891, Colonel Cody served
at the head of the Nebraska National Guard. In 1895 Cody took up the
development of Wyoming Valley by introducing irrigation. Not long
afterward he became judge advocate general of the Wyoming National
Guard.
Colonel Cody (Buffalo Bill) died in Denver, Colorado, on January
10, 1917. His legacy to a grateful world was a large share in
the development of the West, and a multitude of achievements in
horsemanship, marksmanship, and endurance that will live for ages.
His life will continue to be a leading example of the manliness,
courage, and devotion to duty that belonged to a picturesque phase
of American life now passed, like the great patriot whose career it
typified, into the Great Beyond.
BUFFALO BILL’S BIG SURPRISE.
CHAPTER I.
BAD NEWS.
It was at Fort Advance, one of the smaller frontier posts on the
Indian border, just about the hour of sunset. Buffalo Bill and
Colonel Carr, the commandant of the fort, were chatting together when
suddenly Buffalo Bill raised his hands and pointed across the plains.
A horseman could be seen in the distance, and he was approaching at a
furious gallop.
Buffalo Bill scanned the figure for a moment in silence.
“It is Hugh Hardin, the oldest of my scouts,” he said, “and I am
willing to bet a few cigars that he brings news of a fresh Indian
uprising.”
It was, indeed, Hugh Hardin, and a moment later he had pulled up his
steed before Buffalo Bill and Colonel Carr, and, after saluting his
superior officers, was making his report.
It was to the effect that the Indians to the number of several
thousands were on the warpath, under command of Death Face and
several other of their chiefs.
“I scouted near their camp,” said Hugh Hardin, “and I know that there
is at least one white man in their number. I saw him. He is Eagle,
a well-known outlaw. He was formerly chief of the band known as the
Renegade Red Riders, which you broke up, Buffalo Bill, not long ago.”
“What! Eagle, the outlaw chief!” exclaimed the colonel. “I thought
you killed him, Cody?”
“I followed him and drove him off a precipice into Rapid River--man
and horse,” said Cody; “but it looks as if he had escaped by
swimming, and joined the redskins, now that his own band is wiped
out. Are you sure that he is with the Indians?”
“Perfectly,” said Hugh Hardin.
“That man must be captured at all hazards,” said the colonel. “I
shall immediately order out a troop of cavalry, as well as a battery
of infantry, and send them on to oppose the Indians.”
An hour later the detachment of cavalry and artillery, under command
of Lieutenant Worth, one of the most popular young officers in the
post, was starting for Rapid River.
Two other commands of artillery and cavalry were dispatched
immediately afterward.
Buffalo Bill headed the column, of course, and when, early the next
day, after a hard night ride, they were within a few miles of the
river, he advised the lieutenant to call a halt.
“I will go forward myself on a scout,” he said, “before the Indians
discover that there is a body of soldiers in the vicinity.”
“I suggest that you take one of the men in my troop, Sergeant
Fallon, as an assistant. He has lived with the Indians for years,
and can disguise himself perfectly as one, and speak the language
well. Besides, they say that he has powerful friends among the Sioux
chiefs. He can enter the camp in disguise, perhaps.”
Sergeant Fallon, a tall, lean, dark-faced man, stepped forward at
the command of Lieutenant Worth, and, after a few words with Buffalo
Bill, went off to disguise himself as an Indian, a complete disguise
having been brought along with the artillery equipments by command of
Lieutenant Worth.
“He is a mysterious man, evidently well educated,” said the
lieutenant to Buffalo Bill, “and no one knows why he entered the
army, as he is reputed to be very wealthy. He has good cause to
wish to be revenged on Eagle, the outlaw chief. Eagle captured his
daughter, Lucille Fallon, when she was on her way West, to hold her
for ransom, and it was you yourself who rescued her when you wiped
out Eagle’s band.”
“I remember the occasion,” said the great scout; “but here comes the
man, and he looks like an Indian, indeed.”
Sergeant Fallon’s disguise was perfect, and an hour later the scout
and he set out.
When they reached Rapid River, Fallon decided to swim his horse
across and enter the Indian camp disguised as he was, and Buffalo
Bill, knowing from what he had seen and heard of the man that he
could thoroughly trust him, allowed him to do so.
Buffalo Bill accompanied him as far as the river, and watched him
across. He lost his form after he had got halfway across, but waited
until he was sure that Fallon had reached the other side and found
the Indian guards.
Hearing no outcry or shot, he muttered:
“I guess he’s all right, but his danger is great.
“The man grows upon me more and more, and I am sure that he has once
held a high position and been in command of men.
“Well, if he gets back in safety, I will use my influence to get him
the commission he richly deserves.”
So saying, the scout gazed in silence for a while over the weird,
wild scene, lit up by the moonlight into picturesque beauty, and
then, turning his horse, rode back to his camp for the night.
The sergeant, meanwhile, had crossed the river, been met by the
guards, and then rode to the camp beyond the ridge.
To his surprise, he found there over a hundred Indian braves, and
about a camp fire built out of sight up in a niche of the cliff stood
several forms, upon whom his eyes were at once riveted.
Fighting Bird, an old Sioux chief, was there, and near him stood
the young chief, Death Face, while, seated upon a rock near, was
a splendid type of a redskin leader, a man of almost herculean
proportions, robed in gorgeous costume of tanned doeskin heavily
embroidered with wampum, and wearing a war bonnet of barbaric
splendor. His face was bold, rugged, crafty, intelligent, and
merciless.
That countenance was furrowed with age, silver threads streaked
his raven locks, but he was still the mighty leader of his people,
the grand old fighter, plotter, good general, merciless foe of the
palefaces, Iron Eyes, the head chief of his tribe.
By his side stood a fourth person.
It was one of elegant form, handsome face, dark and sinister, fine
though it was. He was dressed in a black fatigue suit of army style,
wore buttons of ten-dollar gold pieces, diamond studs and sleeve
buttons in his negligee silk shirt, a massive watch chain, and a
large, brilliant ruby upon the little finger of his left hand, his
right being covered with a red glove.
This man had a cigar between his lips, stood like one waiting to be
photographed, one booted foot resting upon a rock before him, and his
elbow leaning upon his knee as a rest.
His spurs were of gold, his belt of arms showed that they were
ornamented with the same precious metal, and, altogether, he was a
most picturesque and striking figure, a man to stand in awe of.
As the sergeant approached, old Iron Eyes arose and greeted him,
greeted him as he would one for whom he held both reverence and
affection.
“Iron Eyes is surprised at meeting his paleface brother, the great
medicine chief, White Wolf. The Iron Eyes has with him another great
chief of the paleface race, the Eagle, his brother and ally, and here
is my son, the mighty young chief who will some day wear the war
bonnet of old Iron Eyes.
“It gladdens my heart to again see my brother, the White Wolf. He is
welcome, and he has proven my friend.”
Such was the welcome and the introduction of the sergeant to those
assembled about the camp fire in the little ravine among the cliffs.