Buffalo Bill and the Overland Trail / Being the story of how boy and man worked hard and played hard to blaze the white trail, by wagon train, stage coach and pony express, across the great plains and the mountains beyond, that the American republic might expand and flourish

by Edwin L. Sabin

With a group of army officers, scouts in buckskin, and other horsemen, Billy was sitting on his horse at the edge of the mass of carriages. The train-load of excursionists fairly burst from the cars, even climbing out through the windows, and made a rush for the vehicles. Davy forged ahead for Billy Cody. Billy had left his horse and when Davy saw him next he was gallantly escorting his wife and little daughter to an army ambulance; as he came back Dave caught him.

“Hello, Billy.”

“By thunder! That name sounds familiar, Dave! Well, I’m certainly glad to see you.”

They gripped hands. As Buffalo Bill, Billy looked older than he had as Scout Cody, even, during the war. His face had been bronzed deeper by hard plains riding, day and night, and on his firm chin he wore a little goatee. His suit of Indian tanned buckskin was beaded and fringed, and fitted him to perfection. A fine figure of a man he was, too; every inch of him.

There was little time to exchange greetings or words. Everything was confusion—and the day would soon pass.

“Go in and win, Billy.”

“You bet I will, Dave.”

And with that Billy strode hastily back to his horse—brushing by the many hands held out to stay him a moment.

The match was to last from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon if buffalo could be found. Slim and active, and as picturesque as Buffalo Bill himself, General Custer, from horseback, announced in a loud voice that the spectators were to follow the hunters until the herd was sighted and then must stay behind so as not to alarm the buffalo, until the shooting had begun. After that they might go as near as they pleased.

Buffalo Bill and Scout Comstock led away; behind them rode the horsemen, chiefly scouts and army officers. A large bunch of cavalry mounts had been sent out from Fort Wallace, near Sheridan, for the visitor officers, and Davy (who was almost an officer) was accorded the courtesy of one. So he was well fixed. Trailing the horsemen came the excursionists in army ambulances and old coaches and spring wagons and even buggies—raked and scraped from far and near.