Quote

With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound.

Buffalo Bill

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Buffalo Bill
Age: 70 †
Born: 1846
Born: February 26
Died: 1917
Died: January 10
Actor
Businessperson
Circus Performer
Frontiersman
Hunter
Military Officer
Showman
Stage Actor
Writer
Scott County
Iowa
William Frederick Cody
Bill Cody
William F. Cody
Buffalo Bill Cody
William Frederick Buffalo Bill Cody
Helping
Held
Lap
Home
Ugly
Wound
Leaving
Wounded
Friend
Ride
Mortally
Head
Crowd
Stabbed
Gone
Crowds
Wagon
Help
Wounds
Wagons
Father
Believed
Kidneys

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The Indians said the bones were those of a race of people ... three times the size of a man.
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The first presentation of my show was given in May, 1883, at Omaha, which I had then chosen as my home. From there we made our first summer tour, visiting practically every important city in the country.
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The cholera had broken out at the post, and five or six men were dying daily.
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You who live your lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. But on the Plains one's friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle.
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The first trip of the Pony Express was made in ten days - an average of two hundred miles a day. But we soon began stretching our riders and making better time.
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My debut upon the world's stage occurred on February 26th, 1845.
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The Indians were well mounted and felt proud and elated because they had been made United States soldiers.
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On reaching the place where the Indians had surprised us, we found the bodies of the three men whom they had killed and scalped, and literally cut into pieces.
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Frontiersmen good and bad, gunmen as well as inspired prophets of the future, have been my camp companions. Thus, I know the country of which I am about to write as few men now living have known it.
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As a good horse is not very apt to jump over a bank, if left to guide himself, I let mine pick his own way.
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Well, Bill [Bill Hickok] was a pretty good shot. But he could not shoot as quick as half a dozen men we all knew in those days, nor as straight either. But Bill was cool, and the men who he went up against were rattled, I guess. Bill beat them to it. He made up his mind to kill the other man before the other man had finished thinking.
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My first plan of escape having failed, I now determined upon another.
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It was my effort, in depicting the West, to depict it as it was.
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I thought I was benefiting the Indians as well as the government, by taking them all over the United States, and giving them a correct idea of the customs, life, etc., of the pale faces, so that when they returned to their people they could make known all they had seen.
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Quick as lightning Wild Bill pulled his revolver. The stranger fell dead, shot through the brain.
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My restless, roaming spirit would not allow me to remain at home very long.
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I had many enemies among the Sioux I would be running considerable risk in meeting them.
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Wild Bill was a strange character. In person he was about six feet and one inch in height. He was a Plains-man in every sense of the word.
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But the West of the old times, with its strong characters, its stern battles and its tremendous stretches of loneliness, can never be blotted from my mind.
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