e, the heroine of the plains." I have borne that name up to the
present time. We were afterwards ordered to Fort Custer, where Custer
city now stands, where we arrived in the spring of 1874; remained
around Fort Custer all summer and were ordered to Fort Russell in fall
of 1874, where we remained until spring of 1875; was then ordered to
the Black Hills to protect miners, as that country was controlled by
the Sioux Indians and the government had to send the soldiers to
protect the lives of the miners and settlers in that section. Remained
there until fall of 1875 and wintered at Fort Laramie. In spring of
1876, we were ordered north with General Crook to join Gen'ls Miles,
Terry and Custer at Big Horn river. During this march I swam the
Platte river at Fort Fetterman as I was the bearer of important
dispatches. I had a ninety mile ride to make, being wet and cold, I
contracted a severe illness and was sent back in Gen. Crook's ambulance
to Fort Fetterman where I laid in the hospital for fourteen days. When
able to ride I started for Fort Laramie where I met Wm. Hickock,
better known as Wild Bill, and we started for Deadwood, where we
arrived about June.

During the month of June I acted as a pony express rider carrying the
U.S. mail between Deadwood and Custer, a distance of fifty miles, over
one of the roughest trails in the Black Hills country. As many of the
riders before me had been held up and robbed of their packages, mail
and money that they carried, for that was the only means of getting
mail and money between these points. It was considered the most
dangerous route in the Hills, but as my reputation as a rider and quick
shot was well known, I was molested very little, for the toll gatherers
looked on me as being a good fellow, and they knew that I never missed
my mark. I made the round trip every two days which was considered
pretty good riding in that country. Remained around Deadwood all that
summer visiting all the camps within an area of one hundred miles. My
friend, Wild Bill, remained in Deadwood during the summer with the
exception of occasional visits to the camps. On the 2nd of August,
while setting at a gambling table in the Bell Union saloon, in
Deadwood, he was shot in the back of the head by the notorious Jack
McCall, a desperado. I was in Deadwood at the time and on hearing of
the killing made my way at once to the scene of the shooting and found
that my friend had been killed by Mc