f My Buffalo and Outfit]

The only harm their bullets did, however, was to wound my horse in the
hip, not seriously, however, and he carried me quickly out of range. I
expected to be pursued, however, as I had no doubt I had done for some
of those whom I knocked over, so made straight for the Rio Grande
river riding day and night until I sighted that welcome stream and on
the other side I knew I was safe. Crossing the Rio Grande and entering
Texas at the Eagle pass, I rode straight to the old home ranch where I
stayed resting up until the boys got the horses out of Mexico into
Texas, then I joined them and assisted in driving the horses into the
ranch. I congratulated myself that I escaped so easily and with such
little damage. It was certainly a close place but I have been in even
closer places numbers of times and always managed to escape. Either
through trick, the fleetness of my horse or my shooting and sometimes
through all combined. At this time I was known all over the cattle
country as "Red River Dick," the name given to me by the boss of the
Duval outfit, when I first joined the cow boys at Dodge City, Kansas.

And many of the cattle kings of the west as well as the Indians and
scores of bad men all over the western country have at some time or
other had good reason to remember the name of "Red River Dick."

This was in 1875. It was not till the next year that I won the name of
"Deadwood Dick," a name I made even better known than "Red River Dick."
And a name I was proud to carry and defend, if necessary, with my life.
This season we made several trips North. The horses we brought up from
Texas now had to be driven to old man Keith's in Nebraska, on the North
Platte river. On this trip we had no trouble to speak of. Several bands
of Indians showed up at different times but a shot or so from one of the
boys would send them scurrying off at full speed, without stopping to
sample further our fighting abilities.

This was in some ways disappointing to us as we were spoiling for a
fight or excitement of some kind. However, nothing turned up, so after
delivering the horses to their new owners, we made tracks for home
again. It was the same round of duties, season after season, but all our
trips on the trail were not by any means alike, we were continually
visiting new country and new scenes, traveling over trails new to us,
but old in history. Many of these old trails are now famous in history.

[Illustration: I