In all my recollections of the first years in Kansas the American bison, universally called buffalo, stands out as the predominating feature of the landscape. The great beast at certain seasons was everywhere and then he disappeared forever .under the relentless rifle of the hide hunter, making way for the march of civilization. A rattlesnake in the roof of my dugout caused me to vacate; although I blew off his head with a shot, I could not remain where there was likely to be trouble of that sort. Inside the cabin I could see snakes all the time; but bear in mind that my red visitor of a short time before had ruthlessly carried away all the magic stuff that is reputed to be potent in producing visions of reptiles, and that I was face to face with real serpents. So I moved out in the wagon.
      I had a few chickens and tried to protect them from wolves by putting them on roosts reaching from the wagon to the top of the house. But every night some sneaking coyote would jump up and grab the best fowl I had.

A Buffalo Stampede.

      One night I had a big scare. Scares were frequent in those primitive days –or rather nights. I began to expect something to happen, and was always on the alert. Just before daylight one morning I heard a great rattle and rumble of hoofs, and in fact the very earth trembled. I knew what was coming. It was a stampeding herd of buffalo bulls, numbering 500 or more, heading straight for my wagon. I knew that in a moment or two they would sweep over me in the darkness, and then it would be "Good-bye John." I grabbed my shot-gun and ran toward them in my shirt-tail–excuse me, my nightie, shooting and howling like a Comanche. It turned the leader to one side and the whole herd veered off and plunged over a 20-foot embankment, thru a grove of small timber, scraping from their hides enough wool to keep the women spinning and Knitting for a long time. Perhaps I should give as a piece of information for the modern reader, that on the plains and frontiers it was the custom for the wives of the pioneers to spin wool from the shaggy fur of the buffalo into yarn and then knit mittens and socks from it for their menfolk. It was a little coarse and harsh, as compared with fine merino wool, but it was often all they had to do with, and it served the purpose.

Then Came the Hair-Raising.

      In the summer of 1867 there had been many murders of settlers and the railroad laborers by the Indians, and the government kept troops at the various posts under the command of famous generals of the Civil war. Several bloody encounters occurred between bands of soldiers and redskins, and tho victory generally perched on the banners of the soldiers, even when outnumbered five or ten to one, the vanquished usually came back later and repeated depredations and outrages. Life on the frontier, at that time, the late sixties, in central Kansas, was quite hazardous. I learned in the spring of 1868 that the Englishman Hewitt and his boy, with whom I had made my first buffalo hunt, were both killed by the Indians on Brown's creek, near where Solomon Rapids now stands.

The Bogardus and Bell Murders.

      Jim Duff and a fellow named White- hurst went up the Solomon above Willow Springs about the 13th of Aug. to look for hay, and were way over on the bend of the river when they came.on to an Indian camp. One fellow was keeping it while the band was off on some mischief. he had a good field glass, which he handed to one of the boys, and in an impressive voice said "Sioux, heap Sioux," trying to impress them that the country was full of "injuns." They took it for granted that the rascal was lying, but events that happened two or three days later showed there was a little truth in his assertions. Aaron Bell was living at Willow Springs, where Beloit is now located, and the next day the band whose camp Duff and Whitehurst had seen, came there and acted insolently. When offered water they threw it down and showed by their actions that their intentions were not friendly. The Bells were very nice southern people. Duff rustled around and got a dozen bachelors and married men together as a sort of a home guard. Among them was Sargeant Moody, a regular Teddy Roosevelt for valor and action; another belligerent who was ready single-handed to whip anything on the plains was Charley __________ They were in for commencing hostilities right away, and attack the Indians that night in their camp before they could do any mischief Seth Bell and a Mr. Bogardus brothers-in-law, lived at the mouth of Plum Creek with their wives. Bell was opposed to this move. He said, "If you kill some of them the rest will come down and kill all of us." His premonition proved to be only too well founded. Charley did the big talking. then, but displayed the yellow streak not long afterú Said he, "Will you stay here and let those red devils do all the massacering? We'll go and wipe them off the face of the earth."
      Probably ten of us went. Duff and Whitehurst led us to the camp, two miles distant to the southwest. When we got where we could see the campfire it looked as tho we were going up against the real thing. At this juncture Charley began to have a change of heart and said, "Maybe we are making a mistake." Moody said, "What do you think we ought to do?" "I think we ought to consult the governor," was Charley's answer. Said Moody, "I'll tell you what's the matter with you; you haven't got the sand." Charley came along then. I was just a trifle flabbergasted myself. I claim to be up to the average in the matter of physical bravery, but the situation called for a courage beyond that–a moral courage as it were. You psychological experts figure it out. I wasn't afraid, oh no. Yet in spite of my forced nerve which kept me from sneaking off to the proposed consultation with the governor, my knees shook so that the caps rattled. "You fellers keep still back there," said our leader.
      We crawled along closer, until we could see the little campfire burning, but we could see nobody and hear nothing. No doubt our proposed victims were hiding all around and watching us. That knowledge also contributed greatly to our comfort. I would like to observe that an Indian campfire is no such bonfire as the white would build in warm weather. Just a little mite of a blaze and a few hot coals. Around this little fire in a circle were a number of forked sticks stuck in the ground with pieces of buffalo meat roasting for the evening meal. As no protests were entered we took the white man's privilege of helping ourselves. It tasted good, and our equanimity was restored. We might have spared the miserable savages had they turned up at this juncture. After eating we went away. I do not remember where we stayed that night; we were in the habit of sleeping wherever night overtook us; probably at Duff's or Moody's.
      The next day Moody sent us word that 20 stand of Maynard carbines had been brought to his ranch and for all of us to come and get supplied. We were getting our guns when a boy came over from Faroe's, a mile or so across the bottom. He was greatly excited, saying the Indians were at Faroe's and would kill all of them. Four of us volunteered to go back with the boy. We could see horses, 25 of them, at the Faroe place, indicating the size of the gang we would have to encounter. We five were afoot. The Indians came out and got on their I ponies and started for Moody's. The I road angled across the bottom, and soon they would meet us on the same road. I went along with the others, but you understand I wasn't glad to be there The party went down into a draw out of our sight, and when they came out they saw us for the first time. They stopped and looked, and maybe considered us too formidable, for they whirled on their horses and put off. Our bullets kicked up a great dust, but didn't do any execution. They went angling toward the mouth of the creek where Bogardus and Bell lived. They went directly there, keeping out of our reach as much as they could. One of them lost a gunnysack with some more of their commisariat inside. I picked it up. It contained some buffalo tallow and a lot of fresh buffalo entrails wound on a stick. The contents had been stripped out quickly by pulling through the fingers, and when they got hungry they would roast pieces and eat them with a relish known only to the wild man.
      Well, we followed along as much as we could on foot towards the Bogardus and Bell house, which was a little log cabin facing south. We approached from the north and could not see what was going on on the other side. Directly they came right back to the north of the house, dismounted. They had the two men in their midst. They circled around them shooting at them repeatedly, until they lay dead on the ground. I suppose they did this for our benefit for an exhibition of frightfulness. To make sure of their work one of them went back as they moved away and shot the prostrate men a couple of times more.
      We hurried up as fast as we could. Before we got to the house here came Mrs. Bogardus from the cornfield with Bells little girl, striking off to the north. She had escaped from her captors. She was sobbing hysterically, and saying over and over, "We are all killed, we are all dead." The little girl's head had been cut open and she was bleeding profusely. She quieted down and went back with us. There lay the two dead men. She stood there, while we made a break around the house.
      Right in front of the house, on the high bank of the river, at its edge, lay Mrs. Bell, her head resting on her elbow. Thinking the Indians were over the bank, we at first got into the house, covering the space with our weapons and for a few moments hesitating about approaching the poor woman. When we did we found that she was shot through the left breast and otherwise abused. She was hiccoughing and the blood trickled down as we carried her into the house. She kept repeating, "I want to go to heaven where my poor child has gone," thinking it had been killed. The women had been thrown on horses and an effort made to carry them off, but they had squirmed out of their clutches and fallen to the ground. The Indians were beating it to some neighborhood camp. Two of Aaron Bell's little girls who were visiting there were carried off, and afterwards abandoned on the Saline, picked Up by a band of soldiers and taken to Fort Harker. Whit McConnell was one of a party who went over there and brought them home.
      The two women and the little girl were taken to Tom Howie's that night in a wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen from Faro's. Mrs. Bell lived for two weeks. She was kept in a dugout stable. I always thought that if she had been brought up on the high ground in the open, she might have lived. The child got well. One of the girls that was carried off is living at Beloit now, and the other down in the southeastern part of the state. Gov. Crawford, in his book, "Early Sixties" gives an account of this massacre.
      The same day we were having this little bickering with the savages, Whit McConnell was breaking prairie across the river. One of his horses ran past, and then we knew he was having trouble of his own. (Whit gave the story of his adventure all alone with this band of Indians, in the Record four years ago.) All the settlers round about gathered at Howie's that evening, excepting one young fellow and I. We went up at dusk to my place and got my horses and harnessed them. My cow and a pet buffalo calf I was trying, to raise, were turned loose. The next time I saw them a month later, the cow had a pair sucking her, her own calf and the buffalo calf, Which she had also mothered. I raised him and finally sold him to somebody.
      The next story will tell of the killing of the Marshall boys, Thompson and Spencer Randall and the organization of the Kansas Frontier Guard, of which I was a member during its Six months career.