CHAPTER ONE
From the New York Register
Journal:
Indian
Depredations
GHASTLY RAIDS AGAINST INNOCENT FAMILIES
“Spirit Talking”
the Cause
CHICAGO—Recent savage attacks by
Plains Indians have given General Nelson Miles, Commanding General
of the Department of the Missouri, cause to be concerned about a
possible new Indian war. To this end he has ordered all commanders
in the field to be alert for any further savageries. His concern is
animated by intelligence from the West which suggests that the
recent horrors perpetrated by various nations of the Sioux, the
same tribe of heathens who so foully massacred Custer and all his
brave men, may be the harbinger of renewed war against the white
race. The cause of the unrest is thought to be something called
Spirit Talking, a quasi-religion espoused by various shamans in
which they are told that if all tenets of the strange heresy are
followed, the white man will leave the cities and settlements of
the West, and the land will be returned to the
Indians.
The Indian who started this
movement and is its most vocal spokesman is Mean to His Horses, a
leader of the Crooked Lance Warrior Society of the Cheyenne. Mean
to His Horses was a relative of Roman Nose, the ferocious Cheyenne
warrior who led more attacks against the white man than any other
Indian. He was also a follower and protégé of Crazy Horse. It is
said that the Indians believe that Mean to His Horses is able to
communicate with Crazy Horse through the means of Spirit Talking,
and that has given him much medicine.
Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Exhibition Playing to Packed
House
NEW YORK—The Buffalo Bill Wild West
Exhibition has performed before the crowned heads of Europe,
delighting the royals and their subjects with a view of life in
America’s Great West. Now that same show is in New York and should
a citizen of this fair city wish to be enlightened about the true
nature of the Wild West, they need only to apply at the ticket
office at Madison Square Garden where daily performances are being
given.
Madison
Square Garden, New York, New York
By the use of clever stage props, dirt,
horses, cattle, cowboys and Indians, Madison Square Garden was
transformed into a part of the American West. Falcon MacCallister
and his brother and sister, the twins Andrew and Rosanna, were
among the many spectators enjoying the Buffalo Bill Wild West
Exhibition. So far the show had portrayed Pony Express mail
carriers galloping to deliver the mail, leaping off one horse and
instantly mounting another to continue at breakneck speed around
the arena; Indians setting fire to and attacking a burning cabin
from which heroic settlers would escape just in the nick of time;
and stagecoach robbers who were fought off by the bravery of the
shotgun guard and armed passengers.
They also had cowboys bringing a cattle
stampede under control, and it was during the stampede that
something went wrong. A bull broke out of the thundering herd to
come rushing toward the audience.
“Oh, isn’t it wonderful how they have
trained the bull to do that?” Rosanna said, her voice tinged with
excitement.
When the bull first broke loose from
the herd, Falcon, like Rosanna and everyone else in the audience,
believed it to be a part of the show. But looking around, he saw
that there was no cowboy in position to be able to stop the
runaway, and the reaction of the nearest cowboys to the bull
clearly indicated that this was unplanned. There was a mounted New
York policeman nearby but he was for crowd control only, and Falcon
could tell by the expression on his face that he also thought the
runaway bull was part of the show.
With no time to spare, Falcon got up
from his seat, climbed onto the railing and, pushing the policeman
out of the saddle, leaped onto his horse. He wished he was on
Lightning, but he had no choice. This police horse was all he had.
He raced across the arena toward the bull.
Behind him the policeman blew his
whistle in anger. “Stop that man! Stop him! He stole my
horse!”
The crowd, still believing that it was
all part of the show, cheered in approval and applauded as Falcon,
bent low over the horse’s neck, urged the animal into what was,
without doubt, the fastest it had ever run. Falcon measured the
distance between the bull and the crowd and between himself and the
bull, and realized that if he was going to catch up with it, it
would be at the last possible second.
As he drew alongside the bull, he could
smell its pungent odor and see the fear, confusion, and anger in
the bull’s eyes. Falcon leaned over the bull, then leaped from the
saddle, grabbing the bull by the horns as he did so. He dug his
heels into the ground as he twisted the bull’s neck, throwing the
animal over onto its side.
With the bull safely on the ground,
Falcon quickly regained his feet, then swung back into the saddle
of the horse that had stopped running and was now waiting for him.
The bull, its initial charge stopped, got back to its feet, shook
its head and snorted a few times. By now a couple of the cowboys
from the show had come over and herded the bull, docile now, back
to rejoin the others.
Buffalo Bill himself rode up to
Falcon’s side and, reaching over, grabbed Falcon’s hand and lifted
it up into the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted.
“The cowboy who performed this thrilling rescue for your viewing
pleasure is Falcon MacCallister!”
The crowd gave Falcon a thundering
ovation.
“You are acting as if you had planned
that,” Falcon said quietly.
“Why not?” Cody replied, still smiling
and speaking without moving his lips. “It was a great
act.”
Falcon laughed, shook his head, then
rode the horse back to the policeman who, while angered by the
“theft” a few minutes earlier, had now joined the crowd in
applauding him.
Falcon swung down from the saddle and
handed the reins to the police officer.
“Thank you for the loan of the horse,”
he said.
“Well, I didn’t exactly lend the horse
to you,” the policeman replied with a big smile. “But I’m glad
Harry was here for you.”
“Harry, is it?” Falcon asked. He rubbed
Harry behind one of his ears. “You did well, Harry.”
“I’ll say he did. I never knew he had
that in him.”
“Treat him well.”
“He’ll get an extra ration of oats
tonight,” the policeman promised.
“He’s a good horse,” Falcon
said.
“And you are a good man,” the policeman
responded. He stuck his hand out and Falcon shook it.
Delmonico’s, New York
The waiters at Delmonico’s Restaurant
on Number Two William Street vied for the opportunity to serve the
handsome assemblage of guests in the private dining room on the
upper floor. All the diners were well known personalities. There
was Buffalo Bill Cody, easily recognizable by his flowing blond
hair and his neatly trimmed moustache and goatee. In addition there
were the MacCallister twins, Andrew and Rosanna, who were famous
show business personalities. Andrew had what the newspapers called
“rugged good looks,” handsome enough to play the most romantic
lead, but manly enough to play the most gallant hero. Of Rosanna it
was said that she had discovered the fountain of youth, for her
skin was smooth and flawless, her dark hair luxuriant, and her eyes
ablaze with still-youthful beauty.
The fourth diner was Falcon
MacCallister, brother to the show-business twins. Falcon was over
six feet tall with wide shoulders, a flat stomach, and powerful
arms. Someone once described his face as “not weathered, but
cured.” It bore a permanent tan, and his eyes had the suggestion of
a squint as if he were outside in the sun. Unlike Buffalo Bill,
Falcon wore his hair, which was the color of sun-ripened wheat, cut
short.
The four were here at Delmonico’s
because after the performance Buffalo Bill had insisted they be his
guests. There was an empty chair available and when Rosanna asked
who it was for, Cody was rather circumspect. Then, about fifteen
minutes later, the mysterious guest arrived.
Cody’s guest was shorter than any of
the other three men present, slender of build, with dark, piercing
eyes and a sweeping moustache, but no beard.
“Friends, may I present Colonel
Prentiss Ingraham? At least, that is the name he is going by today.
He has also been called, at various times in his life, Dr. Noel
Dunbar, Dangerfield Burr, and Colonel Leon Laffite. Of course, you
can understand that, when you realize what an unsavory life he has
lived. While training for the noble profession of medicine,
Ingraham left school to become a soldier for the South. He was
wounded and captured at Fort Hudson, but escaped only to be wounded
for a second time at the Battle of Franklin,
Tennessee.
“Then after the war ended, Ingraham,
not content to return to civilized life, traveled the world to find
another war to fight. He served under Juarez in the Mexican rebels’
revolution against Maximillian, then went to Europe to fight
against the Turks, was in the Austrian army during the
Austro-Prussian War, and was in Egypt with the Khedive’s army, then
was a colonel in the Cuban army, and if that isn’t enough, he was
also a captain in the Cuban navy. While fighting for the Cubans
against Spain, he was captured and sentenced to death. But as they
say, only the good die young, so once again he
escaped.”
“Why, thank you, Cody. Never have I
received a more eloquently delivered introduction,” Ingraham said,
speaking in a soft Southern accent.
“But, surely, none of that can be
true?” Rosanna said. “Have you really lived such a dangerous
life?”
“I have had a terrible case of
wanderlust for my entire life,” Ingraham said. “But I’m afraid my
friend, Bill Cody, is making it sound much more romantic than it
really is.”
“Romantic? Not a word of it,” Cody said
with a scoffing sound. “Seedy you are, and seedy I report. And why,
you may ask, would I be friends with such a seamy character?” Cody
asked.
“Are you really going to tell them,
Cody?” Ingraham asked. “I think they could accept a rebel, a
soldier of fortune, and an escaped convict. But if you tell them
the worst of my sins, they will rise as one and walk away from
here.”
Rosanna laughed. “Surely it can’t be
that bad. What sin is it?”
“Will you tell them, Ingraham, or shall
I?” Cody asked.
Ingraham made a courtly bow, then held
his hand out toward Cody. “I defer to my esteemed and famous
friend, Buffalo Bill Cody.”
“I am famous,” Cody said, “because this
gentleman made me famous. Indeed it was he who coined the moniker
Buffalo Bill.” Cody looked at Falcon. “He made you famous as well,
my friend. Because, to date, he has written over three hundred
literary masterpieces,” Cody said, then he chuckled. “At least,
that is how he refers to them, though the rest of the world
considers them dime novels.”
“Wait a minute,” Falcon said. “You mean
I have you to thank for those awful dime novels about
me?”
“You may call them awful, Mr.
MacCallister,” Ingraham said. “But the rest of the world calls them
heroic.” He began to recite as if on stage. “With
the reins of his horse held tightly in his teeth, a flaming six-gun
in each hand dispensing death to the desperados, our hero hurled a
challenge that brought fear to the heart of the evildoer.
‘Dangerous Dan, your day is done!’” Ingraham smiled. “I
particularly like the alliteration of the letter ‘D.’ Do you
recognize that passage?”
“Do I recognize it? No, should I?”
Falcon asked.
Ingraham chuckled. “No, I suppose not.
I seriously doubt that anyone with your sterling qualities would
ever be impressed by, or even read, stories that glorify your name.
But what I just quoted came directly from that stirring novel of
derring-do: Falcon MacCallister and the Robbers of
the Deadwood Stage.”
“If he had the reins of his horse
clenched between his teeth, how could he yell?” Andrew
asked.
Ingraham stopped to think about it for
a moment, then he burst out laughing.
“An excellent point, my good man,”
Ingraham said. “A most excellent point indeed.”
“You were at the Wild West Exhibition
today, Ingraham. What did you think of the thrilling new act that I
added? Did you see the way Falcon, who for all intents and purposes
was naught but a spectator, suddenly appeared from the crowd to
wrestle to the ground a runaway bull?”
Ingraham laughed. “You may have had it
planned, Cody, but something tells me that Falcon was not in on the
plan.”
“Maybe not,” Cody agreed. “But knowing
Falcon as well as I do, I knew that were I but to present him an
opportunity to be heroic he would react exactly as he
did.”
“Surely you aren’t saying that you
arranged for the bull to break away, are you?” Rosanna
asked.
Cody held up his finger. “That, my
dear, will forever be a closely guarded secret. But, what about it,
Falcon? Would you care to join my exhibition?”
“Thank you, Cody, but I’ll pass. Andrew
and Rosanna are the two show-business luminaries in the
MacCallister family.”
“And luminaries they are,” Cody agreed.
He glanced over toward Falcon’s siblings. “I loved your performance
in The Lady and the Soldier.”
“Thank you,” Andrew said.
“No, not you, Andrew, I was talking to
Rosanna,” Cody said, and all laughed.
“Cody, what is the latest on your
town?” Ingraham asked.
“Your town? What town?” Andrew
asked.
“Haven’t you heard?” Ingraham asked.
“There is to be a town in Wyoming Territory named Buffalo
Bill.”
“Really?” Rosanna asked. “My, how
wonderful!”
“It isn’t to be called Buffalo Bill,”
Cody said. “It is to be called Cody, if it comes
about.”
“It will happen,” Ingraham said.
“Thornton Beck is behind it, and he is a man who accomplishes what
he starts.”
“Thornton Beck, the financier in
Wyoming Territory?” Falcon asked.
“Yes. He has already developed three
towns in Wyoming Territory: Sheridan, Buffalo, and Beckton. He
wants to develop a town in the Bighorn Basin, along the Stinking
Water River between Heart Mountain and Cedar Mountain, very near
Yellowstone. Do you know the area there?”
“Yes, I know the area quite well,”
Falcon replied.
“I suppose some people might think it a
bit vain of me to be interested in a town that bears my name, but
I’m sure you understand the attraction, as you have a town named
after you.”
“Actually, MacCallister is named after
my father, not me,” Falcon said.
“Mr. Cody?” a young man called,
stepping into the room then.
Looking toward the visitor, they saw
that he was wearing a cap with a shield stating that he was an
employee of Western Union.
“Yes, I am Bill Cody,” Cody
said.
The young man smiled. “I know you,
Buffalo Bill. I would recognize you anywhere,” he said. “I’ve seen
your Wild West Show.”
“It is an exhibition, my good man,”
Cody said. “It is not a show. A show is make-believe, whereas an
exhibition is real.”
“Yes, sir, well, it’s real all right.
Oh, I have a telegram for you.”
Cody took the telegram, and tipped the
young man a dollar.
“Gee, thanks, Buffalo Bill!” the young
man said, his smile growing even broader at the large
tip.
Cody opened the telegram and took a
moment to read it. “It is from General Miles,” he said. “He wants
me to come to Chicago.”
“Why?” Falcon asked.
“Here, you read it,” Cody replied,
handing the telegram to Falcon. “You may read it aloud, if you
wish.”
Falcon began to read.
“There is a movement among the Indians
that they call Spirit Talking. This is a dangerous new development
and should it get out of hand, I am concerned that another Indian
war might be in the offing. It is also my belief that Sitting Bull
is behind the unrest. As you are familiar with the badlands and
have befriended Sitting Bull, request you visit me soonest at my
headquarters in Chicago. Respectfully, Nelson Miles, General,
Commanding Department of the Missouri.”
“My,” Ingraham said. “That certainly
sounds like an invitation to adventure.”
Falcon handed the telegram back to
Cody. “Are you going to see him?” Falcon asked.
“I don’t know,” Cody said. “He said he
wants to see me as soon as possible, but I have one more week of
the show remaining in New York. What do you think, Falcon? Have you
ever heard of this Spirit Talking movement the general
mentions?”
“I have heard of it, yes,” Falcon
said.
“Do you think, as General Miles does,
that there may be an Indian uprising because of it?”
“A general uprising? No, I don’t think
so,” Falcon said. “There are some renegades causing problems, but
nothing on the order of a full-scale Indian war.”
“I think you are right,” Cody said.
“And even if were true, Sitting Bull wouldn’t have anything to do
with it. As you well know, Sitting Bull was, for a short time, a
member of my Wild West Exhibition. I got to know him very well, and
I have a great deal of respect and admiration for him. He told me
that it came to him in a spirit dream that the Indians and the
White Men must live in peace, and that it is the responsibility of
the Indians to adapt to our ways.”
“Do you believe that?” Andrew
asked.
“The real question is, does he believe
that?” Cody replied. “And because it came to him in a spirit dream,
I think yes, he does believe it. From what I know of Sitting Bull,
he gives great credence to the power of visions and
dreams.”
“Yes, and it may well be that is
exactly what has Miles worried,” Falcon said. “As you say, Sitting
Bull is known to be a person who believes in talking with spirits,
and as this new movement is called Spirit Talking, it is easy to
see how General Miles may have made the connection.”
“But it’s not the same thing,” Cody
said.
“No, it is not the same thing. However,
once something like this gets started, it tends to develop a life
of its own, so it is important to get it stopped before it gets
started,” Falcon said. “I know you haven’t asked for my opinion,
but I think you should suspend the show for now, and go see General
Miles just as quickly as you can pack your clothes and catch the
next train.”
“All right, I’ll do that if you will
come with me,” Cody said. “General Miles holds you in high regard.
I know he would like to see you, and I would like you with me when
I meet with him.”
“I’ll come with you. I was about to
start back anyway, and it has been a while since I’ve seen General
Miles, so it would be nice to see him again.”
“So you are saying there is absolutely
no possibility that there will be any Indian trouble?” Ingraham
asked.
“I wouldn’t say absolutely,” Falcon
said. “There will always be a few Indians who, for excitement or
some perceived injustice, are willing to go off the reservation and
cause trouble.”
“I hope so.”
“You hope so? What a strange thing for
you to say,” Rosanna said, and she and the others looked at
Ingraham with equal surprise.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Ingraham
said. “I certainly would not want another incident like what
happened to Custer. But a little excitement would be welcome and,
as you know, I live for excitement.”