The Life of Buffalo Bill William F. Cody (best ereader for academics .txt) 📖

guide. On the second day out we suddenly discovered, on the opposite side of the Saline River, about a mile distant, a large body of Indians, who were charging down upon us. Major Arms, placing the cannon on a little knoll, limbered it up and left twenty men to guard it; and then, with the rest of the command, he crossed the river to meet the Indians.

Just as he had got the men over the stream, we heard a terrific yelling and shouting in our rear, and looking back to the knoll where the cannon had been stationed, we saw the negroes, who had been left there to guard the gun, flying towards us, being pursued by about one hundred Indians; while another large party of the latter were dancing around the captured cannon, as if they had got hold of an elephant and did not know what to do with it.

Major Arms turned his command back and drove the Indians from the gun. The troops then dismounted and took position there. Quite a severe fight ensued, lasting about two hours. Five or six of the soldiers, as well as Major Arms, were wounded, and several of the horses were shot. The Indians seemed to grow thicker and thicker, as if receiving reinforcements from some large party. The colored troops, who had been bragging all the way that if they could only see some Indians “dey would blow ’em off de farm,”⁠—which was a favorite expression of theirs⁠—were now singing a different tune. Every time the Indians would make a charge at us, the darkeys would cry out:

“Heah dey cum;” “Dey must be ten thousand ob ’em;” “De whole country is alive wid ’em;” “Massa Bill, does you tink we is eber agoin’ to get out o’ heah?” and many other similar expressions.

Major Arms, who was wounded and lying under the cannon⁠—which, by the way, had become useless⁠—called me up and asked if I thought there was any show of getting back to the fort. I replied that there was.

Orders were accordingly given by Major Arms for a retreat, the cannon being left behind. During the movement several of our men were killed, but as night came and dense darkness prevailed, we succeeded in making good headway, and got into Fort Hays just at daylight next morning, in a very played-out condition.

During our absence the cholera had broken out at the post, and five or six men were dying daily. It was difficult to tell which was the greater danger⁠—fighting Indians on the prairie, or facing the cholera in camp; but the former was decidedly the more inviting.

XIII A Millionaire

Soon after returning to Fort Hays, I was sent with dispatches to Fort Harker. After delivering the messages, I visited the town of Ellsworth, about three miles west of Fort Harker, and there I met a man named William Rose, a contractor on the Kansas Pacific Railroad, who had a contract for grading near Fort Hays. He had had his stock stolen by the Indians, and had come to Ellsworth to buy more.

During the course of our conversation, Mr. Rose incidentally remarked that he had some idea of laying out a town on the west side of Big Creek, about one mile from the fort, where the railroad was to cross. He asked my opinion of the contemplated enterprise, and I told him that I thought it was “a big thing.” He then proposed taking me as a partner in the scheme, and suggested that after we got the town laid out and thrown open to the public, we should establish a store and saloon there.

Thinking it would be a grand thing to be half-owner of a town, I at once accepted his proposition. We bought a stock of such articles as are usually found in a frontier store, and transported them to the place on Big Creek, where we were to found our town. We hired a railroad engineer to survey the site and stake it off into lots; and we gave the new town the ancient and historical name of Rome. To a “starter,” we donated lots to anyone who would build on them, but reserved the corner lots and others which were best located for ourselves. These reserved lots we valued at fifty dollars each.

Our modern Rome, like all mushroom towns along the line of a new railroad, sprang up as if by magic, and in less than one month we had two hundred frame and log houses, three or four stores, several saloons, and one good hotel. Rome was looming up, and Rose and I already considered ourselves millionaires, and thought we “had the world by the tail.” But one day a fine-looking gentleman, calling himself Dr. W. E. Webb, appeared in town, and dropping into our store introduced himself in a very pleasant way.

“Gentlemen, you’ve got a very flourishing little town here. Wouldn’t you like to have a partner in your enterprise?”

“No, thank you,” said I, “we have too good a thing here to whack up with anybody.”

My partner agreed with me, but the conversation was continued, and at last the stranger said:

“Gentlemen, I am the agent or prospector of the Kansas Pacific Railroad, and my business is to locate towns for the company along the line.”

“We think we have the only suitable town-site in this immediate locality,” said Mr. Rose, “and as a town is already started, we have saved the company considerable expense.”

“You know as well as I do,” said Dr. Webb, “that the company expects to make money by selling lands and town lots; and as you are not disposed to give the company a show, or share with me, I shall probably have to start another town near you. Competition is the life of trade, you know.”

“Start your town, if you want to. We’ve got the ‘bulge’ on you, and can hold it,” said I, somewhat provoked at his threat.

But we acted too independently and too indiscreetly for our