alled Powder Face. This animal figured afterward in the
stories of "Ned Buntline," and became famous.

One day, while we were waiting at Fort McPherson, General Carr received
a telegram announcing that the Indians had made a dash on the Union
Pacific, killing several section men and running off stock of
O'Fallen's Station. An expedition was going out of Fort McPherson to
catch and punish the redskins if possible.

I was ordered by General Carr to accompany this expedition. That night
I proceeded by rail to Fort McPherson Station, and from there rode
horseback to the fort. Two companies, under command of Major Brown, had
been ordered out. Next morning, as we were about to start, Major Brown
said to me:

"By the way, Cody, we're going to have a character with us on this
scout. It's old 'Ned Buntline,' the novelist."

At the same time I saw a stoutly built man near by who wore a blue
military coat. On his breast were pinned perhaps twenty badges of
secret societies and gold medals. He limped a little as he approached
me, and I concluded that this must be the novelist.

"He has a good mark to shoot at on his left breast," I said to Brown,
"but he looks like a soldier." I was introduced to him by his real
name, which was Colonel E.Z.C. Judson.

"I was to deliver a temperance lecture tonight," said my new
acquaintance, "but no lecture for me when there is a prospect of a
fight. The major has offered me a horse, but I don't know how I shall
stand the ride."

I assured him that he would soon feel at home in the saddle, and we set
out. The command headed for the North Platte, which had been swollen by
mountain rains. In crossing we had to swim our horses. Buntline was the
first man across.

We reached O'Fallen's Station at eleven o'clock. In a short time I
succeeded in finding an Indian trail. The party of Indians, which had
come up from the south, seemed to be a small one. We followed the track
of the Indians, to the North Platte, but they had a start of two days.
Major Brown soon abandoned the pursuit, and returned to Fort Sedgwick.
During this short scout, Buntline had plied me with questions. He was
anxious to go out on the next scout with me.

By this time I had learned that my horse, Tall Bull, was a remarkably
fast runner. Therefore, when Lieutenant Mason, who owned a racer,
challenged me to a race, I immediately accepted. We were to run our
horses a single dash of a half mile for five hundred dollars a side.