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It was during this campaign that I was christened
Calamity Jane. It was on Goose Creek, Wyoming, where the
town of Sheridan is now located. Capt. Egan was in command
of the Post. We were ordered out to quell an uprising of the
Indians, and were out for several days, had numerous
skirmishes during which six of the soldiers were killed and
several severely wounded. When on returning to the Post we
were ambushed about a mile and a half from our destination.
When fired upon Capt. Egan was shot. I was riding in advance
and on hearing the firing turned in my saddle and saw the
Captain reeling in his saddle as though about to fall. I turned
my horse and galloped back with all haste to his side and got
there in time to catch him as he was falling. I lifted him onto
my horse in front of me and succeeded in getting him safely to
the Fort. Capt. Egan on recovering, laughingly said: ``I name
you Calamity Jane, the heroine of the plains.'' I have borne that
name up to the present time. We were afterwards ordered to
Fort Custer, where Custer city now stands, where we arrived in
the spring of 1874; remained around Fort Custer all summer
and were ordered to Fort Russell in fall of 1874, where we
remained until spring of 1875; was then ordered to the Black
Hills to protect miners, as that country was controlled by the
Sioux Indians and the government had to send the soldiers to
protect the lives of the miners and settlers in that section.
Remained there until fall of 1875 and wintered at Fort
Laramie. In spring of 1876, we were ordered north with
General Crook to join Gen'ls Miles, Terry and Custer at Big
Horn river. During this march I swam the Platte river at Fort
Fetterman as I was the bearer of important dispatches. I had a
ninety mile ride to make, being wet and cold, I contracted a
severe illness and was sent back in Gen. Crook's ambulance to
Fort Fetterman where I laid in the hospital for fourteen days.
When able to ride I started for Fort Laramie where I met Wm.
Hickock, better known as Wild Bill, and we started for
Deadwood, where we arrived about June.
During the month of June I acted as a pony express rider
carrying the U.S. mail between Deadwood and Custer, a
distance of fifty miles, over one of the roughest trails in the
Black Hills country. As many of the riders before me had been
held up and robbed of their packages, mail and money that
they carried, for that was the only means of getting mail and
money between these points. It was considered the most
dangerous route in the Hills, but as my reputation as a rider
and quick shot was well known, I was molested very little, for
the toll gatherers looked on me as being a good fellow, and they
knew that I never missed my mark. I made the round trip every
two days which was considered pretty good riding in that
country. Remained around Deadwood all that summer visiting
all the camps within an area of one hundred miles. My friend,
Wild Bill, remained in Deadwood during the summer with the
exception of occasional visits to the camps. On the 2nd of
August, while setting at a gambling table in the Bell Union
saloon, in Deadwood, he was shot in the back of the head by the
notorious Jack McCall, a desperado. I was in Deadwood at the
time and on hearing of the killing made my way at once to the
scene of the shooting and found that my friend had been killed
by McCall. I at once started to look for the assassian and found
him at Shurdy's butcher shop and grabbed a meat cleaver and
made him throw up his hands; through the excitement on
hearing of Bill's death, having left my weapons on the post of
my bed. He was then taken to a log cabin and locked up, well
secured as every one thought, but he got away and was
afterwards caught at Fagan's ranch on Horse Creek, on the old
Cheyenne road and was then taken to Yankton, Dak., where he
was tried, sentenced and hung.
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