It Was My Effort, In

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.

It Was My Effort, In Depicting The West, To Depict It As It Was.

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.

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.

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.