Twenty-five miles from Fort Larned the country became rougher, and I had to travel more carefully.  Also I proceeded as quietly as possible, for I knew I was in the vicinity of the Indians who had been lately encamped on Walnut Creek.  But when I came up near the creek I unexpectedly rode in among a herd of horses.  The animals became frightened, and ran off in all directions.  Without pausing to make any apology, I backed out as quickly as possible.  But just at that minute a dog, not fifty yards away, set up a howl.  Soon I heard Indians talking.  They had been guarding the horses, and had heard the hoofbeats of my horse.  In an instant they were on their ponies and after me.

I urged my mount to full speed up the creek bottom, taking chances of his falling into a hole.  The Indians followed me as fast as they could, but I soon outdistanced them.

I struck the old Santa Fe trail ten miles from Fort Hays just at daybreak.  Shortly after reveille I rode into the post, where Colonel Moore, to whom I reported, asked for the dispatches from Captain Parker for General Sheridan.  He asked me to give them into his hands, but I said I preferred to hand them to the general in person.  Sheridan, who was sleeping in the same building, heard our voices and bade me come into his room.

“Hello, Cody!” he said.  “Is that you?”

“Yes, sir,” I said.  “I have dispatches for you.”

He read them hurriedly, told me they were very important, and asked all about the outbreak of the Kiowas and Comanches.  I gave him all the information I possessed.

“Bill,” said General Sheridan, “you’ve had a pretty lively ride.  I suppose you’re tired after your long journey.”

“Not very,” I said.

“Come in and have breakfast with me.”

“No, thank you.  Hays City is only a mile from here.  I know every one there and want to go over and have a time.”

“Very well, do as you please, but come back this afternoon, for I want to see you.”

I got little rest at Hays City, and yet I was soon to set out on another hard ninety-five-mile journey.

CHAPTER V

When I rode back to General Sheridan’s headquarters, after a visit with old friends at Hays City, I noticed several scouts in a little group engaged in conversation on some important topic.  Upon inquiry I learned that General Sheridan wanted a dispatch sent to Fort Dodge, a distance of ninety-five miles.

The Indians had recently killed two or three men engaged in carrying dispatches over this route.  On this account none of the scouts were at all anxious to volunteer.  A reward of several hundred dollars had failed to secure any takers.

The scouts had heard of what I had done the day before.  They asked me if I did not think the journey to Fort Dodge dangerous.  I gave as my opinion that a man might possibly go through without seeing an Indian, but that the chances were ten to one that he would have an exceedingly lively run before he reached his destination, provided he got there at all.