their threatened assault.

There was much excitement at the Post. The guards had been doubled.
Captain Parker had all the scouts at his headquarters. He was seeking
to get one of them to take dispatches to General Sheridan at Fort Hays.
I reported to him at once, telling him of my encounter and my escape.

"You were lucky to think of that cattle story, Cody," he said. "But for
that little game your scalp would now be ornamenting a Kiowa lodge."

"Cody," put in Dick Curtis, "the captain is trying to get somebody to
take dispatches to General Sheridan. None of the scouts here seem
willing to undertake the trip. They say they are not well enough
acquainted with the country to find the way at night."

A storm was coming up, and it was sure to be a dark night. Not only did
the scouts fear they would lose the way, but, with hostile Indians all
about, the undertaking was exceedingly dangerous. A large party of
redskins was known to be encamped at Walnut Creek, on the direct road
to Fort Hays.

Observing that Curtis was obviously trying to induce me to volunteer, I
made an evasive answer. I was wearied from my long day's ride, and the
beating I received from the Indians had not rested me any. But Curtis
was persistent. He said:

"I wish you were not so tired, Bill. You know the country better than
the rest of us. I'm certain you could go through."

"As far as the ride is concerned," I said, "that would not matter. But
this is risky business just now, with the country full of hostile
Indians. Still, if no other man will volunteer I will chance it,
provided I am supplied with a good horse. I am tired of dodging Indians
on a Government mule."

At this, Captain Nolan, who had been listening, said:

"Bill, you can have the best horse in my company."

I picked the horse ridden by Captain Nolan's first sergeant. To the
captain's inquiry as to whether I was sure I could find my way, I
replied:

"I have hunted on every acre of ground between here and Fort Hays. I
can almost keep my route by the bones of the dead buffaloes."

"Never fear about Cody, captain," Curtis added; "he is as good in the
dark as he is in the daylight."

By ten o'clock that night I was on my way to Fort Hays, sixty-five
miles distant across the country.

It was pitch-dark, but this I liked, as it lessened the probability of
the Indians' seeing me unless I stumbled on them by accident. My
greatest danger was that my horse might run into a hole and