, having, in their fright, allowed the
horses to run wherever it suited them to go.

We followed the trail awhile the next day, but it became evident that
it would be a long chase, and as we were short of rations we started
back to camp. Captain Graham was bitterly disappointed at being cheated
out of a fight that seemed at hand. He roundly cursed the darky who bad
given, the warning with his gun. That gentleman, as a punishment, was
compelled to walk all the way back to Fort Hays.

The western end of the Kansas Pacific was at this time in the heart of
the buffalo country. Twelve hundred men were employed in the
construction of the road. The Indians were very troublesome, and it was
difficult to obtain fresh meat for the hands. The company therefore
concluded to engage expert hunters to kill buffaloes.

Having heard of my experience and success as a buffalo hunter, Goddard
Brothers, who had the contract for feeding the men, made me a good
offer to become their hunter. They said they would require about twelve
buffaloes a day--twenty-four hams and twelve humps, as only the hump
and hindquarters of each animal were utilized. The work was dangerous.
Indians were riding all over that section of the country, and my duties
would require me to journey from five to ten miles from the railroad
every day in order to secure the game, accompanied by only one man with
a light wagon to haul the meat back to camp. I demanded a large salary,
which they could well afford to pay, as the meat itself would cost them
nothing. Under the terms of the contract which I signed with them, I
was to receive five hundred dollars a month, agreeing on my part to
supply them with all the meat they wanted.

Leaving Rose to complete our grading contract, I at once began my
career as a buffalo hunter for the Kansas Pacific. It was not long
before I acquired a considerable reputation, and it was at this time
that the title "Buffalo Bill" was conferred upon me by the railroad
hands. Of this title, which has stuck to me through life, I have never
been ashamed.

During my engagement as hunter for the company, which covered a period
of eighteen months, I killed 4,280 buffaloes and had many exciting
adventures with the Indians, including a number of hairbreadth 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 a gallop of twenty miles I reached the top of a small
hil