ad each day to
hunt the buffaloes, accompanied by only one man with a light wagon for
the transportation of the meat, I of course demanded a large salary. They
could afford to remunerate me well, because the meat would not cost them
anything. They agreed to give me five hundred dollars per month, provided
I furnished them all the fresh meat required.

Leaving my partner, Rose, to complete our grading contract, I immediately
began my career as a buffalo hunter for the Kansas Pacific Railroad, and
it was not long before I acquired considerable notoriety. It was at this
time that the very appropriate name of "Buffalo Bill," was conferred upon
me by the road-hands. It has stuck to me ever since, and I have never
been ashamed of it.

During my engagement as hunter for the company--a period of less than
eighteen mouths--I killed 4,280 buffaloes; and I had many exciting
adventures with the Indians, as well as hair-breadth escapes, some of
which are well worth relating.

One day in the spring of 1868, I mounted Brigham and started for Smoky
Hill River. After galloping about twenty miles I reached the top of a
small hill overlooking the valley of that beautiful stream.

As I was gazing on the landscape, I suddenly saw a band of about thirty
Indians nearly half a mile distant; I knew by the way they jumped on
their horses that they had seen me as soon as I came into sight.

The only chance I had for my life was to make a run for it, and I
immediately wheeled and started back towards the railroad. Brigham seemed
to understand what was up, and he struck out as if he comprehended that
it was to be a run for life. He crossed a ravine in a few jumps, and on
reaching a ridge beyond, I drew rein, looked back and saw the Indians
coming for me at full speed and evidently well-mounted. I would have had
little or no fear of being overtaken if Brigham had been fresh; but as he
was not, I felt uncertain as to how he would stand a long chase.

[Illustration: BUFFALO BILL.]

My pursuers seemed to be gaining on me a little, and I let Brigham shoot
ahead again; when we had run about three miles farther, some eight or
nine of the Indians were not over two hundred yards behind, and five or
six of these seemed to be shortening the gap at every jump. Brigham now
exerted himself more than ever, and for the next three or four miles he
got "right down to business," and did some of the prettiest running I
ever saw. But the Indians were about as we