in his pocket, seeming rather abashed.

Buffalo Bill and his friend walked down the middle of the car, and we
were somewhat agitated when he stopped in front of Johan and said in a
soft, cooing voice, "Would you take a drink with me, sir?"

We gasped when we saw Johan shake his head and say politely with a
smile, "No, thank you." We expected a volley of pistol-shots and the
speedy wiping out of us all, but Buffalo Bill merely gave Johan an
inquiring look and a tired but sarcastic smile.

Mr. Cadwalader said, hurriedly, to Johan, "Go, for Heaven's sake!"

Johan hastened to follow the good advice and Buffalo Bill, and said
with diplomatic artifice, "On second thoughts, sir, I will not refuse
your invitation, as I am a little thirsty." On which the three
gentlemen went out together.

Johan came back refreshed and radiant. Never had he seen or talked to
such a delightful person. Buffalo Bill had offered him some of his own
favorite brand of whisky, which Johan found very good.

Johan asked B.B. later, being on more familiar terms, "Would you have
been offended if I had refused to drink with you?"

B.B. answered, "If I had not seen that you were a foreigner I should
not have liked it," meaning, I suppose, bloody murder and sudden death.

B.B. said the reason why he had chosen Johan out of the rest to drink
with was that Johan looked so like the Grand-Duke Alexis, for whom he
had been a guide on the prairies some years ago.

General Taylor, son of the former President, joined us at Cheyenne.

* * * * *

We have just passed thirty snow-sheds at Rock Creek, and have seen some
wolves and some antelopes roaming about. We looked for buffaloes, but
the only buffalo we saw was the mild Bill, who sat quietly reading a
magazine, looking at us with his soft-brown eyes.

We were very high up in the Rocky Mountains. All around us was snow,
and the view of the blue mountains, the tops of which were quite white,
looked beautiful in the distance. There were some Indians on horseback
drawn up in file as the train went by. They had all their war-paint on,
were covered with picturesque blankets, and their feather head-dresses
reached over their horses' backs; they had buckskin leggings covered
with beads, which made them look very picturesque. They looked stolidly
and indifferently at us while we stared at them admiringly from the car
windows. The prairie-dogs looked like squirrels "sitting up so cut