Leadmego


Quotes by Buffalo Bill

Quotes by Buffalo Bill

After crossing the Smoky Hill River, I felt comparatively safe as this was the last stream I had to cross.
As a good horse is not very apt to jump over a bank, if left to guide himself, I let mine pick his own way.
But the West of the old times, with its strong characters, its stern battles and its tremendous stretches of loneliness, can never be blotted from my mind.
But the love of adventure was in father’s blood.
Every Indian outbreak that I have ever known has resulted from broken promises and broken treaties by the government.
Excitement was plentiful during my two years’ service as a Pony Express rider.
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.
General Custer was a close observer and student of personal character.
Having secured my Indian actors, I started for Baltimore, where I organized my combination, and which was the largest troupe I had yet had on the road.
I began to think my time had come, as the saying is.
I could never resist the call of the trail.
I felt only as a man can feel who is roaming over the prairies of the far West, well armed, and mounted on a fleet and gallant steed.
I found Spotted Tail’s lodge. He invited me to enter.
I had many enemies among the Sioux; I would be running considerable risk in meeting them.
I had the best buffalo horse that ever made a track.
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.
I was persuaded now that I was destined to lead a life on the Plains.
Indians were frequently off their reservations.
It was because of my great interest in the West, and my belief that its development would be assisted by the interest I could awaken in others, that I decided to bring the West to the East through the medium of the Wild West Show.
It was my effort, in depicting the West, to depict it as it was.
Major North and myself went out in advance of the command several miles and killed a number of buffaloes.
Major North has had for years complete power over these Indians and can do more with them than any man living.
My brother was a great favorite with everybody, and his death cast a gloom upon the whole neighborhood.
My debut upon the world’s stage occurred on February 26, 1845, in the State of Iowa.
My first plan of escape having failed, I now determined upon another.
My great forte in killing buffaloes was to get them circling by riding my horse at the head of the herd and shooting their leaders. Thus the brutes behind were crowded to the left, so that they were soon going round and round.
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.
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.
Nothing of course was ever done to Bill for the killing of Tutt.
On reaching the place where the Indians had surprised us, we found the bodies of the three men whom they had killed and scalped, and literally cut into pieces.
Quick as lightning Wild Bill pulled his revolver. The stranger fell dead, shot through the brain.
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.
Some days I would go without any fire at all, and eat raw frozen meat and melt snow in my mouth for water.
Springfield has always had a place in my heart.
Stations were built at intervals averaging fifteen miles apart. A rider’s route covered three stations, with an exchange of horses at each, so that he was expected at the beginning to cover close to forty-five miles – a good ride when one must average fifteen miles an hour.
The Confederates had suspected Wild Bill of being a spy for two or three days, and had watched him closely.
The Free State men, myself among them, took it for granted that Missouri was a slave state.
The Indians kept increasing in numbers until it was estimated that we were fighting from 800 to 1,000 of them.
The Indians were well mounted and felt proud and elated because they had been made United States soldiers.
The McCarthy boys, at the proper moment, gave orders to fire upon the advancing enemy.
The audience, upon learning that the real Buffalo Bill was present, gave several cheers between the acts.
The cholera had broken out at the post, and five or six men were dying daily.
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.
The first trip of the Pony Express was made in ten days – an average of two hundred miles a day. But we soon began stretching our riders and making better time.
The greatest of all the Sioux in my time, or in any time for that matter, was that wonderful old fighting man, Sitting Bull, whose life will some day be written by a historian who can really give him his due.
Washington newspaper men know everything.
We got more provisions for our whiskey than the same money, which we paid for the liquor, would have bought; so after all it proved a very profitable investment.
We had avoided discovery by the Sioux scouts, and we were confident of giving them a complete surprise.
Wild Bill was a strange character. In person he was about six feet and one inch in height. He was a Plains-man in every sense of the word.
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.
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.
You who live your lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. But on the Plains one’s friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle.

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