Along the Smoky Hill Fork trail a number of new forts had been established, protecting the way for the railroad. First beyond Fort Riley, which Davy remembered from the time when the Hee-Haws passed it, was Fort Harker, next would come Fort Hays, and then Fort Wallace near Sheridan. The train left Leavenworth early in the morning; the run to the end of the track would take about twenty-five hours, with stops for meals. It would appear, from the looks of the country between Lawrence and Junction City across the river from Fort Riley, that there were no more wild Indians and buffalo; but westward from Junction City things suddenly changed; and when Dave awakened from a brief doze here were the same old brown plains again, ready for the bull whacker, the stage coach, the buffalo and the Indians. The train was jammed with all kinds of people from St. Louis, Kansas City, Leavenworth, Lawrence, Topeka――everybody having a good time. In the last car were Mrs. Cody and little daughter Arta. Davy had a glimpse of her――a handsome woman with glowing dark eyes. Buffalo Bill had met her during the war, in St. Louis, and they had been married two years now. She and little Arta and General Custer were the main attraction on the whole train. The train was a travelling arsenal. At the front end of Davy’s car was a stand containing twenty-five breech-loading rifles and a large chest of cartridges, with the lid opened. The conductor (who, people said, was an old Indian fighter) wore two revolvers at his waist, and carried his rifle from car to car. Almost every man was armed with some sort of a gun, and all the passengers and train crew were constantly on the lookout for “Injuns” and buffalo. As the train roared onward further into the plains, its snorty, busy little engine sounded five short whistles. Out from the windows down the line of coaches were thrust heads. Men who had no gun made a rush for the stand of arms, and grabbed rifles and cartridges. “Buffalo! Buffalo!” “Where? Quick!” “There they go!” “Where? Oh, I see them!” “Mercy, what monsters!” There were people aboard who actually never had seen a buffalo. “What beards!” “Are those really buffalo?” “Shoot!” “Conductor! Stop the train!” Bang! Bangity-bang! Bang! Bang! Everybody who could get a glimpse poked his gun out of a window and fired. Two big buffalo bulls were racing the train; heads down, tails up, trying to cross in front of it. The rain of bullets had not touched them. One crossed; but the other suddenly whirled on the track and charged the engine. The cow-catcher lifted him high――Davy had sight of his great shaggy shape turning a somersault in the air, and funny enough he looked, too, with mane and tail flying. He landed with a thump; people laughed so that they forgot to shoot again until too late; and gazing back Davy was glad to witness him scramble to his feet, shake himself, and glare after the train and bellow defiance.