A grave had been prepared on the mountain side toward the east, and to that place in the bright sunlight, the air redolent with the perfume of sweet flowers, the birds sweetly singing, and all nature smiling, the solemn cortege wended its way and deposited the mortal remains of Wild Bill. Upon a large stump at the head of the grave the following inscription was deeply cut: “A brave man; the victim of an assassin--J. B. Hickok (Wild Bill,) aged 48 years; murdered by Jack McCall, Aug. 2, 1876.” JACK McCALL PAYS THE PENALTY. After the farcical termination of the trial, and the burial of Wild Bill, several friends of the deceased met at Charley Utter’s ranche and determined to avenge the cowardly assassination of their friend. McCall, unfortunately, heard of the meeting and its purposes, and lost no time in getting out of the country. He roamed around in the far West, and finally settled at Yankton. In the following year a United States court was established in Dakotah Territory at Yankton, and Jack McCall was again apprehended and put upon trial. George Shingle, now a resident of Sturgis City, eighteen miles south of Deadwood, was an eye-witness of the shooting, but left Deadwood to escape the excitement on the same evening Bill was killed, and therefore did not appear as a witness at the original trial, but appeared in answer to the summons which called him to Yankton, and there told the story of the murder. The result of this trial was the conviction of McCall, and in July, 1877, he expiated his cowardly crime on the gallows at Yankton. WILD BILL’S REMAINS EXHUMED AND FOUND TO BE PETRIFIED. On the third day of August, 1879, just three years after the tragedy, Charley Utter and Lewis Shœnfield, the particular friends of Bill during his life, determined to give the remains a better resting place, where the thorns and briars of the bleak mountains would not hide the spot where so brave a heart lay buried. Accordingly, early in the morning of that day they, proceeded to the grave, and, with heads uncovered, out of respect for their dead friend, they exhumed the body and took off the coffin-lid to take a last look before transferring the remains to Mount Moriah cemetery, at Deadwood. It was a sad sight to the eyes of friends. There was scarcely a perceptible change in the body, excepting a darker color of the face. The features were all preserved with remarkable naturalness. There was the shattered wound in the right cheek, made by the cruel bullet which took his life, but the countenance bore a tranquil look, as though the wearer was glad to escape a world in which there was nothing but buffet and anxiety to him. The lips wore a placid appearance--a smile of peace, the graceful contour of content.