The arrow, at the Grand
Duke's request, was given to him as a souvenir which he doubtless often
exhibited as proof of his story when some of his European friends
proved a little bit skeptical of his yarns of the Western Plains.
When the visitor had had enough of buffalo hunting, orders were given
to return to the railroad. The conveyance provided for Alexis and
General Sheridan was an old-fashioned Irish dogcart, drawn by four
spirited cavalry horses. The driver was old Bill Reed, an
overland-stage driver, and our wagon-master. The Grand Duke vastly
admired the manner in which he handled the reins.
On the way over, General Sheridan told his guest that I too was a
stage-driver, and Alexis expressed a desire to see me drive.
"Cody," called the general, "come back here and exchange places with
Reed. The Grand Duke wants you to drive for a while."
In a few minutes I had the reins, and we were racing across the
prairie. We jogged along steadily enough, despite a pretty rapid pace,
and this did not suit General Sheridan at all.
"Shake 'em up a little, Bill," he told me as we were approaching
Medicine Creek. "Show us some old-time stage-driving."
I gave the horses a sounding crack with the whip, and they jumped into
their work with a real interest. The load was light and their pace
increased with every second.
Soon they were fairly flying over the ground, and I had all I could do
to maintain any control over them.
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