, Will decided to do so in
some other capacity, and accordingly took service with a United States
freight caravan, transporting supplies to Fort Laramie. On this trip
his frontier training and skill as a marksman were the means of saving a
life.

In Western travel the perils from outlaws and Indians were so real that
emigrants usually sought the protection of a large wagon-train. Several
families of emigrants journeyed under the wing of the caravan to which
Will was attached.

When in camp one day upon the bank of the Platte River, and the members
of the company were busied with preparations for the night's rest and
the next day's journey, Mamie Perkins, a little girl from one of the
emigrant families, was sent to the river for a pail of water. A moment
later a monster buffalo was seen rushing upon the camp. A chorus of
yells and a fusillade from rifles and revolvers neither checked nor
swerved him. Straight through the camp he swept, like a cyclone, leaping
ropes and boxes, overturning wagons, and smashing things generally.

Mamie, the little water-bearer, had filled her pail and was returning in
the track selected by the buffalo. Too terrified to move, she watched,
with white face and parted lips, the maddened animal sweep toward her,
head down and tail up, its hoofs beating a thunderous tattoo on the
plain.

Will had been asleep, but the commotion brought him to his feet, and
snatching up his rifle, he ran toward the little girl, aimed and fired
at the buffalo. The huge animal lurched, staggered a few yards farther,
then dropped within a dozen feet of the terrified child.

A shout of relief went up, and while a crowd of praising men gathered
about the embryo buffalo-hunter, Mamie was taken to her mother. Will
never relished hearing his praises sung, and as the camp was determined
to pedestal him as a hero, he ran away and hid in his tent.

Upon reaching Fort Laramie, Will's first business was to look up Alf
Slade, agent of the Pony Express line, whose headquarters were at
Horseshoe Station, twenty miles from the fort. He carried a letter of
recommendation from Mr. Russell, but Slade demurred.

"You're too young for a Pony Express rider," said he.

"I rode three months a year ago, sir, and I'm much stronger now," said
Will.

"Oh, are you the boy rider that was on Chrisman's division?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right; I'll try you. If you can't stand it, I 'll give you
something easier."

Will's run was from R