After this reception, I went down to
visit the scouts in camp. There the boys dug me up all kinds of
clothes, and clothes of the Western kind I very sadly needed.
White had brought along an old buckskin suit. When I had got this on
and an old Stetson on my head, and had my favorite pair of guns
strapped to me and my dear old "Lucretia Borgia" was within reach, I
felt that Buffalo Bill was himself again.
The general informed me that evening that Indians had been reported on
the Dismal River. At breakfast the next morning he said that a large
war party had been committing devastations up and down the flat. His
scouts had discovered their trail going north and had informed him that
they would probably make camp on the Dismal. There they were sure to be
joined by other Indians. He asked my opinion as to what had best be
done.
I told him it was about twenty-five miles from the present tent to the
Dismal River. I said I had better go on, taking White with me, and try
to locate them.
"I've heard of this man White," said the general. "They tell me that he
is your shadow and he follows you every place you go." I said that this
was true and that I had all I could do to keep him from following me to
New York. "It would break his heart," I said, "if I were to leave him
behind now." I added that Texas Jack knew the country thoroughly and
that he could guide the command to a point on the Dismal River where I
could meet them that night.
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