But the love of adventure was in father’s blood.
Frontiersmen good and bad gunmen as well as inspired prophets of the future have been my camp companions. Thus I know the country of which I am about to write as few men now living have known it.
Wild Bill was anything but a quarrelsome man yet I have personal knowledge of at least half a dozen men whom he had at various times killed.
The audience upon learning that the real Buffalo Bill was present gave several cheers between the acts.
My restless roaming spirit would not allow me to remain at home very long.
My wife was delighted with the home I had given her amid the prairies of the far west.
The first presentation of my show was given in May, 1883 at Omaha which I had then chosen as my home. From there we made our first summer tour visiting practically every important city in the country.
With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys leaving an ugly wound.
My brother was a great favorite with everybody and his death cast a gloom upon the whole neighborhood.
So for twelve miles I rode with Sherman and we became fast friends. He asked me all manner of questions on the way and I found that he knew my father well and remembered his tragic death in Salt Creek Valley.
Every Indian outbreak that I have ever known has resulted from broken promises and broken treaties by the government.
I thought I was benefiting the Indians as well as the government by taking them all over the United States and giving them a correct idea of the customs life etc. of the pale faces so that when they returned to their people they could make known all they had seen.
My mother’s sympathies were strongly with the Union. She knew that war was bound to come but so confident was she in the strength of the Federal Government that she devoutly believed that the struggle could not last longer than six months at the utmost.