Soldiers from Fort Leavenworth found the herders, killed and mutilated
in the Indian fashion. But the cattle had been stampeded among the
buffalo and it was impossible to recover a single head.

We were taken back to Leavenworth on one of the returning freight
wagon-trains. The news of my exploit was noised about and made me the
envy of all the boys of the neighborhood. The Leavenworth _Times_,
published by D.B. Anthony, sent a reporter to get the story of the
adventure, and in it my name was printed for the first time as the
youngest Indian slayer of the Plains.

I was persuaded now that I was destined to lead a life on the Plains.
The two months that our ill-fated expedition had consumed had not
discouraged me. Once more I applied to Mr. Majors for a job.

"You seem to have a reputation as a frontiersman, Billy," he said; "I
guess I'll have to give yon another chance." He turned me over to Lew
Simpson, who was boss of a twenty-five wagon-train just starting with
supplies for General Albert Sidney Johnston's army, which was then on
its way to Great Salt Lake to fight the Mormons, whose Destroying
Angels, or Danites, were engaged in many outrages on Gentile
immigrants.

Simpson appeared to be glad to have me. "We need Indian fighters,
Billy," he told me, and giving me a mule to ride assigned me to a job
as cavayard driver.

Our long train, twenty-five wagons in a line, each with its six yoke of
oxen, rolled slowly out of Leavenworth over the western trail.