Assisted by Ned Buntline, novelist, and Colonel Ingraham, he started his “Wild West” show, which later developed and expanded into “A Congress of the Rough Riders of the World,” first presented at Omaha, Nebraska. In time it became a familiar yearly entertainment in the great cities of this country and Europe. Many famous personages attended the performances, and became his warm friends, including Mr. Gladstone, the Marquis of Lorne, King Edward, Queen Victoria, and the Prince of Wales, now King of England. At the outbreak of the Sioux, in 1890 and 1891, Colonel Cody served at the head of the Nebraska National Guard. In 1895 Cody took up the development of Wyoming Valley by introducing irrigation. Not long afterward he became judge advocate general of the Wyoming National Guard. Colonel Cody (Buffalo Bill) died in Denver, Colorado, on January 10, 1917. His legacy to a grateful world was a large share in the development of the West, and a multitude of achievements in horsemanship, marksmanship, and endurance that will live for ages. His life will continue to be a leading example of the manliness, courage, and devotion to duty that belonged to a picturesque phase of American life now passed, like the great patriot whose career it typified, into the Great Beyond. BUFFALO BILL’S STILL HUNT. CHAPTER I. CROSSING THE RIO GRANDE. The Rio Grande, the great dividing-line between Mexico and the United States, was swelling rapidly into a flood under recent rains, which had sent torrents dashing from the mountain lands toward the Gulf. A carriage, drawn by two horses, had halted upon the banks at the ford, the Mexican driver on the box seeming afraid to venture into the turbid stream. Within the vehicle were two persons, one in the garb of a nun of the Church of Rome, the other a young and beautiful girl of sixteen, with dark hair and glorious eyes that revealed her Spanish blood. “Well, Pedro, why do you halt here?” asked the nun of the driver. “It is dangerous to cross, Sister Felicite,” was the answer. “And the river is rising?” “It is, sister.” “You know the ford, Pedro?” “Perfectly, sister.” “How deep will the waters come?” “They will wash through the carriage, Sister Felicite.” “Then what is to be done, Pedro?” “Alas! I know not,” was the dejected reply. “If you return, the road is dangerous, night is coming on, and there is no ranch within fifteen miles.” “Very true, sister.” “What shall we do, then?” the nun asked anxiously. “Place greater weights in the carriage, sister; open the doors, to let the water run through and not wash it away; let me mount the box with Pedro, to use the whip, while he manages the horses, and we can get across.” The speaker was the young girl, and the nun looked at her with an expression of amazed horror. “Why, child, what do you mean?”