where the Laramie River was crossed.  Still following the North Platte for some considerable distance, the trail crossed this river at old Richard’s Bridge, and followed it up to the celebrated Red Buttes—­crossing the Willow creeks to the Sweet Water, passing the great Independence Rock and the Devil’s gate, up to the Three Crossings of the Sweet Water, thence past the Cold Springs, where, three feet under the sod, on the hottest day of summer, ice can be found; thence to the Hot Springs and the Rocky Ridge, and through the Rocky Mountains and Echo Canon, and thence on to the Great Salt Lake valley.

We had started on our trip with everything in good shape, following the above described trail.  During the first week or two out, I became well acquainted with most of the train men, and with one in particular, who became a life-long and intimate friend of mine.  His real name was James B. Hickok; he afterwards became famous as “Wild Bill, the Scout of the Plains”—­though why he was so called I never could ascertain—­and from this time forward I shall refer to him by his popular nickname.  He was ten years my senior—­a tall, handsome, magnificently built and powerful young fellow, who could out-run, out-jump and out-fight any man in the train.  He was generally admitted to be the best man physically, in the employ of Russell, Majors & Waddell; and of his bravery there was not a doubt.  General Custer, in his “Life on the Plains,” thus speaks of Wild Bill: 

* * * * *

“Among the white scouts were numbered some of the most noted of their class.  The most prominent man among them was ‘Wild Bill,’ whose highly varied career was made the subject of an illustrated sketch in one of the popular monthly periodicals a few years ago.  ‘Wild Bill’ was a strange character, just the one which a novelist might gloat over.  He was a plains-man in every sense of the word, yet unlike any other of his class.  In person he was about six feet and one inch in height, straight as the straightest of the warriors whose implacable foe he was.  He had broad shoulders, well-formed chest and limbs, and a face strikingly handsome; a sharp, clear blue eye, which stared you straight in the face when in conversation; a finely shaped nose, inclined to be aquiline; a well-turned mouth, with lips only partially concealed by a handsome moustache.  His hair and complexion were those of the perfect blonde.  The former was worn in uncut ringlets, falling carelessly over his powerfully formed shoulders.  Add to this figure a costume blending the immaculate neatness of the dandy with the extravagant taste and style of the frontiersman, and you have Wild Bill....  Whether on foot or on horseback, he was one of the most perfect types of physical manhood I ever saw.