l asked me to go out and kill some buffaloes for the boys.

"All right, Colonel, send along a wagon or two to bring in the
meat," I said.

"I am not in the habit of sending out my wagons until I know that there
is something to be hauled in; kill your buffalo first and then I'll send
out the wagons," was the Colonel's reply. I said no more, but went out on
a hunt, and after a short absence returned and asked the Colonel to send
his wagons over the hill for the half dozen buffaloes I had killed.

The following afternoon he again requested me to go out and get some
fresh buffalo meat. I didn't ask him for any wagons this time, but rode
out some distance, and coming up with a small herd, I managed to get
seven of them headed straight for the encampment, and instead of shooting
them just then, I ran them at full speed right into the camp, and then
killed them all, one after the other in rapid succession. Colonel Royal
witnessed the whole proceeding, which puzzled him somewhat, as he could
see no reason why I had not killed them on the prairie. He came up,
rather angrily, and demanded an explanation. "I can't allow any such
business as this, Cody," said he, "what do you mean by it?"

"I didn't care about asking for any wagons this time, Colonel; so I
thought I would make the buffaloes furnish their own transportation," was
my reply. The Colonel saw the point in a moment, and had no more to say
on the subject.

[Illustration: BRINGING MEAT INTO CAMP.]

No Indians had been seen in the vicinity during the day, and Colonel
Royal having carefully posted his pickets, supposed everything was serene
for the night. But before morning we were roused from our slumbers by
hearing shots fired, and immediately afterwards one of the mounted
pickets came galloping into camp, saying that there were Indians close
at hand. The companies all fell into line, and were soon prepared and
anxious to give the red-skins battle; but as the men were yet new in the
Indian country a great many of them were considerably excited. No
Indians, however, made their appearance, and upon going to the
picket-post where the picket said he had seen them, none could be found
nor could any traces of them be discovered. The sentinel,--who was an
Irishman--insisted that there certainly had been red-skins there.

[Illustration: "INDIANS!"]

"But you must be mistaken," said Colonel Royal.

"Upon me sowl, Colonel, I'm not; as shure ez me name's Pat Maloney, one
of