d before you got halfway there,
but your presence in the country would precipitate hostilities for
which we are not in the least prepared. I'm sorry, Cody, but it can't
be done."

More fully to persuade me of the truth of what he said he took me to
the quarters of Colonel Brown, the commander of the troops at the
Agency, and asked him to talk to me. Brown listened to my statement of
what I proposed and shook his head.

"I've heard of you, Cody, and of your nerve, but this is more than even
you can do. Sitting Bull's camp is forty miles away, and the country
between here and there is swarming with Indians all ready to go on the
warpath, and wholly beyond the sway of reason. I cannot permit you to
make this attempt."

"Do you hear, Cody?" said McLaughlin. "The only thing for you to do is
to stay all night with us and then return to the railroad. Even that
will be risky enough, even for you." "But go you must," added Brown.
"The Agency is under martial law, and I cannot permit you to remain any
longer than tomorrow morning."

There was no arguing with these men. So I resorted to my credentials.
Taking General Miles's card from my pocket, I laid it before Colonel
Brown.

"What does this mean?" he demanded, and passed the card to McLaughlin.

"It looks like orders," said McLaughlin.

"Yes," said Brown, "and I can't disobey them."

Just then Captain Fatchett, an old friend of mine, came into the
quarters, and Brown turned me over to him for entertainment until I
should formulate my plans for my visit to Sitting Bull. I had never
served with the Eighth Cavalry to which the companies at the Post
belonged, but I had many friends among the officers, and spent a very
pleasant afternoon and evening talking over old times, and getting
information about the present situation.

After guard-mount the next morning I told Colonel Brown that I did not
think I would require an escort for my visit, as the presence of a
number of armed men in the Indian country would be sure to start the
trouble it was our purpose to avoid, or to delay as long as possible.
The man who had driven me over was anxious to return at once, so I
asked for a light spring-wagon and a team of mules.

"Wait an hour or two," said the colonel, "and I'll send the
quartermaster to you."

I waited, and he employed the time, as I afterward learned, in
telegraphing to General Miles, to the Commissioner of Indian Affairs,
to the Secretary of the Interior, and to