A THR^ILLING AND TRUTHFUL HISTORy OF ■Mm LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 1 E 1 1 3 E a CHES AND INCIDENTS •ilRRING TIMES Class. Book. ' / -h-/- Gopyri^htN'.'. COPITRIGIIT DEPOSIT fi ^^A-u^uuicLt tMcdoil., A THRILLING AND TRUTHFUL HISTORY OF THE PONY EXPRESS OR BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY AND OTHER SKETCHES AND INCIDENTS OF THOSE STIRRING TIMES WILLIAM LIGHTFOOT VISSCHER COPIOUSLY ILLUSTRATED Rand. McN'allv & Co. Printers and E.vgravers Chicago LIBRARY of OOhiiKESS VWOOOPIM K«i)i».^ APR 22 ia03 /Via*. 26" ^*^ JuAsrA lOto. Nu. ODHY a. Copyright, 1908. BV E. L. LoMAX. ^«• ».' "The Central Route" of immigration. By sail from the uttermost parts of the earth people had gone along all the ways necessary to reach the land of gold and from the relatively eastern regions of this republic, men, women, and children had taken the "Isthmus Route" and "Round the Horn," long voyages by sea, for the same goal. Countless thousands had also toiled across the plains and mountains, "The Overland Route." To use the mildest terms, it was a strenuous journey. Disease, fatigue, flood, cold, heat, storms, and lustful lines arrived and immediately sought "the diggings," or fell into other ways of attaining the yellow bait. Commerce in all branches of trade, gambling, robbery, anything to get gold was done. Not all men in all these ways struggled for it, but some men in each. At any rate the magnet drew people in such numbers that California quickly received in- habitants enough to be admitted to the Union as a State, and as the territory belonged to this republic, one of the United States. Abraham Lincoln 14 THE GOLD FEVER 15 Government was rapidly systema- tized, and business with "the States," was needful, mandatory, strong, and intense. The distance and the peril- ous and time-consuming means of communication made an ever-pend- ing obstacle to all the ramifications of life between the new state and the older states, commercial, govern- mental, social. Leading men were constantly calculating ways and means and endeavoring to evolve plans for the bettering of these conditions. Hon. W. M. Gwin, one of the United States Senators from California, pro- ceeding in the fall of 1854 from San Francisco to Washington City, to take up his legislative duties, rede, horseback, from the Pacific Ocean to the Missouri River, by the way of Sacramento, Salt Lake City, South Pass, and down the Platte to St. Joseph, that way then known as "The Central Route." One of the standing jokes of that day was that the term of a member of Congress from California might run out while he was on the way to the national capital, if he was much delayed, en route. On a long distance of the journey mentioned, and for many days. Sena- tor Gwin had for a traveling com- panion Mr. B. F. Ficklin, general superintendent of the pioneer freight- ing firm, Russell, Majors and Wad- dell. Between these two earnest, observant, and practical men grew the idea, on this journey, of what afterward culminated in the famous "Pony Express." Both were enthu- siastic for closer communication be- tween California and the East, and the Senator became an active and untiring advocate of the freighter's scheme for the upique express service mentioned. In January following (1855), and almost immediately after Senator Gwin's arrival in Washington, he introduced a bill in Congress looking to the establishment of a weekly mail express between St. Louis and San Francisco. The time schedule of this service was to be ten days between the two cities. Five thou- sand dollars for the round trip was to be the compensation and the Central Route to be the line traveled. That bill went to the Senate Com- mittee on Military Affairs, and it was relegated to the reserves. At any rate its front never showed again. "The Irrepressible Conflict" was on for the following five years, until the election of Mr. Lincoln as presi- dent precipitated the Civil War, and during all this time Congress and the country east were so entirely ab- sorbed in the impending struggle that nearly all thought of Pacific Coast business was submerged in the inten- sity of sectional affairs. But the far West, especially California, clamored more and louder for accelerated mail service. The people of these regions desired to know what was going on and were insistent. The war talk was added to all the other causes of the demand for quicker information. Thus, the West did not cease to agi- tate the subject. The South, however, was strongest in Congress. Its interests, pending the struggle, demanded the preven- tion of legislation favorable to the routes north of "Mason and Dixon's Line" and sought the confining of all government aid in that direction to the southern routes. In those days there were three trans-continental mail routes, very slow ones, but the great bulk of the mail was sent by the Isthmian Route, via Panama, and the time between New York and San Francisco, at its i6 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY best, was twenty-two days. The first overland mail route west of the Missouri was a monthly stage line from Independence to Salt Lake, 1, 200 miles. Its first trip began July I, 1850, and its continuance was four years. In 1854, the Govern- ment paid $80,000 per annum for a monthly mail-stage from Missouri, via Albuquerque, to Stockton, Cali- fornia. It was one of the failures of the period — during the nine months it ran, its receipts were $1,255. Thus early, as well as later, there were many serious interruptions in the service. The eastern mails for No- vember, 1850, reached California in March, 1851; and the news of the creation of Utah Territory by Con- gress in September, 1850, arrived at Salt Lake the following January, having gone via Panama by steamer to San Francisco, and thence east by private messenger. The News of Linculn's Election CHAPTER III WINNING THE WEST r N 1756, it took our great-great- grandfathers three days to "stage it" from New York to Philadelphia; and under Washington's administra- tion, two six-horse coaches carried all the passenger traffic between New York and Boston— six days each way. It was a long step from this to the Over- land travel of half a century later. The first great transcontinental stage line, and probably the longest "con- tinuous run" ever operated, was the Butterfield "Southern Overland Mail." Its route was 2,759 miles, from St. Louis to San Francisco — being far south, via El Paso, Yuma, and Los Angeles, to avoid the snows of the Rockies. For this tremendous distance, its schedule time was at first twenty-five and then twenty- three days; its record run, twenty- ofie days. Its first coaches started ^/^ simultaneously from St. Louis and San Francisco, September 15, 1858; and each was greeted by a mighty ovation at the end. Through fare, $100, gold; letters, ten cents per half ounce. The equipment con- sisted of more than 100 Concord coaches, 1,000 horses, 500 mules, and 750 men, including 150 drivers. It began as a semi-weekly stage, but was soon promoted to six times a week. The deadly deserts, through which nearly half its route lay, the sand storm, the mirage, the hell of thirst, the dangerous Indian tribes, and its vast length — 40 per cent greater than that of any other stage line in our history — made it a colossal undertaking; and the name of John Butterfield deserves to be remembered among those Americans who helped to win the West. This "Southern Overland Mail" was oper- ated till the Civil War utterly pre- cluded mail-carrying so far south, and the Overland had to be trans- ferred to a shorter northern route, where it took its chances with the snows. The first daily Overland stage on the "Central" line left St. Joe and Placerville simultaneously July I, 1 86 1, and each finished its 2,000 mile trip on the i8th. There have never been compiled even approximate statistics of the overland travel and freighting from 1846 to i860; nor would it be possible to list the vast throng of emigrants that crossed the Plains. Roughly speaking, 42,000 people did it in 1849 alone. There is no tally of the freighting enterprises that sprang up on the heels of this vast migration, and grew to proportions now-a-days incredible. By the sixties, 500 heav- ily laden wagons sometimes passed Fort Kearney in a day. In six weeks, in 1865, 6,000 wagons, each with from one to four tons of freight passed that point. At about this time also, express messenger Frank A. Root — whose book "The Overland Stage to California" deserves to be better known — counted, in one day's ride, 888 westbound wagons, drawn by 10,650 oxen, horses and mules, between Fort Kearney and old Jules- burg. A curious connotation as to the relative speed of the Overland stage and the Overland freighting is the fact that Root, starting from Atchison one day, spoke to a bull i8 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY Thk Orkat American* Desert ^if Today whacker just "pulling his freight" in the same direction; got to Denver; doubled back, meeting his friend somewhat advanced, and so on; finally bespeaking him as he trundled into Denver. Root had made the single trip five times (3,265 miles) with eighteen days' lay-over, while the freighter was covering the 6 si- mile road once. The height of this freighting was the period 1850 to 1869; its climax was from 1863 to 1866. The floating population then on the Western Plains was nearly 250,000. In 1865, over 21,000,000 pounds of freight were shipped from Atchison alone, requiring 4,917 wagons and 8.164 mules, 27,685 oxen, and 1,256 men. That is more oxen than there are to-day in the states of Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont; and more mules than the census of 1900 gives all New England, New York State, Utah, and the District of Columbia. And this was but a drop in the bucket. The firms engaged were many; their men an army; their "cattle a host." One firm alone — the greatest, but only one of a multi- tude — Russell, Majors and Waddell — at topnotch employed 6,250 liig wagons and 75,000 oxen. The twelfth census fails to give statistics of working oxen — perhaps this mode of transport has so fallen off in the decade since 1890 (when it was itemized) as no longer to be reckoned important — but probably there are not to-day so many oxen working in WINNING THE WEST ig the United States as this one firm Custer, in his 1868 campaign. He used half a century ago. This may had over 800 six-mule teams — single give some faint idea of the mighty file four miles long, traffic whose wheels wrinkled the face The establishment of regular freight of the far West, and the smoke of caravans from the Missouri River whose dusty torments "ascended up westward greatly reduced the cost of forever" and reddened the prairie transportation and vastly developed sunsets for a generation. business and immigration. In the The standard organization of such days of pack-trains, it was — and still a train was twenty-five of the huge, is, where that institution survives in long-geared "prairie schooners" flar- the remotenesses of the West — no ing from the bottom upward, and uncommon thing to pay $1.00 per sometimes seventeen feet long, with pound per 100 miles, or $20 per ton six feet depth of hold and capacity of per mile. There have been regular from 5, 000 to 16,000 pounds each; tariffs much in excess of this, but and each with six to twelve yoke of this was common. Nowadays it oxen. The men of the outfit were costs a railroad, even on the moun- — a captain or wagon-master, his tainous grades of the far West, only assistant, a night herder, and about seven-eighths of a cent per ton the "cavvyard driver" (who had per mile to haul its freights. The charge of the spare riding horses — a tariff of the Overland freighters, plains corruption of the Spanish between Atchison and Denver (620 caballada), and a driver for each miles), averaged as follows: wagon. The ox drivers were uni- Flour 9 cents per lb. versally known as "bull whackers," Sugar i3>-2 cents per lb. and their beasts as "bull teams." ,^,,^0011 and dry goods 15 cents per lb. T,, T I I, u J 1 1 - -^ Whiskv 18 cents per lb. The Jehus, who had long-eared crit- q^^^^ ; ^^^^ ^^^^^ p^^ lb. ters" instead of horned ones, were Trunks 25 cents per lb. "mule skinners." "Trailers" did not Furniture 31 cents per lb. come in until after 1859. and so on. Everything went by the At high tide, the investment pound. The above trip took twenty- reached a figure beside which the one days for wagons drawn by horses earlier Chihuahua trains seem insig- or mules; five weeks for ox teams, nificant. The huge "Conestoga," or The quickest time ever made across "Pittsburgh,"or "Pennsylvania" wag- the continent, before the Pony Ex- ons cost $800 to $1,500 each; first- press, was twenty-one days by the class mules (and no other sort would Butterfield stage line, its schedule do), $500 to $1,000 a pair; harness, for mail from New York to San $300 to $600 to the ten-mule team — Francisco being twenty-three days. a total of $2,600 to $7,100 per wagon. The Pony Express more than cut besides salaries, provisions, and inci- this in half. Not only did it never dentals. In other words, a first- once fail to span the transcontinental class freighting outfit on the Plains, desert in ten days; it more than once half a century ago, cost as much as surpassed any other courier record in an up-to-date vestibuled passenger history. Buchanan's last message train of to-day. was carried by it from St. Joe to Sac- The largest train ever organized ramento, 2,000 miles, in seven days on the Plains was that of General and nineteen hours ; and the news of 20 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY Horace Greeley Famous Editor who crossed the plains by stage-coach Lincoln's e 1 e c - tion to Denver (665 miles) in 2 days, twenty- one hours. It whisked Lin- coln's inaugural across the 2,000 mile gap in the N a t i o n 's con- tinuity in seven days and seven- teen hours. This latter is still the world's record for dispatch by means of men and horses. There have been times when a rail- road train could not reliably cross the continent as swiftly as did the best of the Centaur-Mercuries, organized by that typical frontiersman, Alex Majors, who died about the year 1900, the Kentucky Christian who never drank, never swore, and made his employes sign a contract not to drink, nor gamble, nor swear, under penalty of being "fired" without the pay that was coming. In his young manhood Majors made the broad-horn record on the Santa Fe Trail — a round-trip with oxen in ninety-two days. Later, he took up government contracts, and in 1858, aside from other acti\-ities, was using over 3,500 large wagons merely to transport government supplies into Utah, employing there 4,000 men. i,ooomules,andmorethan4o,ooooxen. Majors was also one of the two stage-line kings. For debt, folly of his partners, or other reasons alien to his choice, in his own despite lie be- came responsible head of more miles, and harder miles, more animals, and less "gentled" ones, more Concord coaches, and more "king whips" than any man before or since, save only Ben Holladay. Between Leaven- worth and Denver, Majors had 1,000 mules and fifty coaches. The first of these "hoss-power Pullmans" reached Denver May 17, 1859, six days for the 665-mile journey. Hor- ace Greeley, Henry Villard, and Albert D. Richardson were passen- gers. The Hockaday and Liggett stage line from St. Joe to Salt Lake had (in 1858) frittered twenty-two days in its semi-monthly trips. Majors cut the 1,200-mile-run to ten days, with a coach each way daily. The stage from Denver to Salt Lake had a run of over 600 miles without a sin- gle town, hamlet, or house on the way. By 1859 there were no less than six mail routes to California (counting the Panama steamer), but Ben Holla- day was king. No other one man, anywhere, has owned and rnanaged a transportation system at once so vast and so difficult. He had sixteen first-class passenger steamers plying the Pacific from San Francisco to Oregon, Panama, Japan, and China. At the height of his Overland business Governor of Colorado in Gold-Fevcr days WINNING THE WEST 21 he operated nearly 5,000 miles of daily mail stages, with about 500 coaches and express wagons, 500 freight wagons, 5,000 horses and mules, and a host of oxen. On the main line he used 2,750 horses and mules and 100 Concord coaches. It cost $55,000 for the harness; the feed bill was a million a year. To equip and run this line for the first twelve months cost $2,425,000. The Government paid Holladay a million dollars a year in mail contracts. In 1864. grain was worth 25 cents a pound along the line, and hay up to $125 a ton. In one day, Dave Street contracted, at St. Louis, for seven Missouri River steamers to load with corn for the Overland's army of mules and horses. Holladay, whose whole career reads like fiction, was the Overland Napo- leon for about five years, beginning in December, 1861. The Indian dep- redations of 1864-66 greatly crippled his stage line, nearly all the stations for one hundred miles being burned, his stock stolen, and his men killed. The loss was upward of half a million. In November, 1866, he sold out the Overland stages to Wells, Fargo & Co., in whose hands the romantic enter- prise continued till the railroads drove romance off the plains forever. # Stage-Cuachinu Across the Plains CHAPTER IV THE PONY EXPRESS THE-MOST UNIQUE AND ROMANTIC MAIL SERVICE EVER ORGANIZED DESPITE the consuming interest in the coming war, Senator Gwin kept up his fight for a quick mail route and the reduction of time in sending news to the Pacific Coast and receiv- ing news from that region. Notwith- standing that it was found impossible to obtain any subsidy from Congress, at that time, for the purpose in view, in the winter of 1859-60, Senator Gwin and several capitalists of New York, and Mr. Russell of the Overland transportation firm of Russell, Majors and Waddell, met in Washington City, and the result of that meeting was the real start of one of the most romantic and daring business ven- tures this country, or any other coun- try, ever knew. That was the Pony Express. By that the time of trans- mitting news across the continent was reduced from twenty-one days to ten days. It is about 3,500 miles by our most direct railway route from New York to San Francisco, and it took seven days, three hours, and forty-five minutes actual time to cover the dis- tance on our fastest express trains during the first years of railroad his- tory. In 1859, there was not a mile of railroad west of the Missouri River. St. Joseph, Missouri, was the western terminus of railway communication, and between that city and the young city of the Golden Gate there inter- vened but one city. Salt Lake, and 2,000 miles of wild, uninhabited coun- try, infested with warlike Indians. Through this uninviting region led the trails over which it was proposed to ride the flying ponies. Genghis Khan, the remarkable con- queror of Tartary and China, who flourished in the years between A. D. 1203 and 1227, has lately received the credit of having originated the Ponv Express. Some one has looked up the fact in the writings of Marco Polo, who says that the ancient Tartar had stations every twenty-five miles over the territory that he wished to send messages, and that his riders made nothing of covering 300 miles a day. However, things have ample time to grow in some centuries, and these rides may have been stretched considerably on the elastic paper used in Polo's time. It is certain, though, that the system has been used in Asia and Europe, even within a cen- tury, and may be used there yet in remote regions. It is also certain that pony express was used in this country about the middle of the first half of the last century. That is to say, two or three decades before the Pony Express across the Great American Desert. David Hale, an enterprising New York newspaper man, used it about 1825 in collecting state news. In 1830, Richard Haughton, editor of the New York Journal of Commerce, afterward founder of the Boston Atlas, utihzed the system in the collection of election returns. James Watson Webb, of the New York Courier and Enquirer, established a pony express in 1832 WIXXIXG THE WEST 23 Temple and Tabernacle at Salt Lake between New York and Washington that wrought dismay among his com- petitors until railways and tele- graphs overlapped him. These enterprises were, however, as simple and harmless as roller skating compared to the dangers and tests of endurance to which the Pon}^ Express riders of the western plains and mountains were subjected in 1860-61. Majors, Russell and Waddell estab- lished and maintained for a number of years a fourteen-day mail schedule by rail and pony express between New York and San Francisco, making the trip of the running ponies from St. Joseph to Sacramento as exactly upon the schedule time as do our mails to-day. By using the telegraph to St. Joe and the pony express beyond, news was carried from ocean to ocean in ten days. Senator Gwin's strongest argument was that if the operating company could carry the mails to the Pacific Coast in quicker time than was then being accomplished, and if it could be shown that the line might be kept open the year round, increased emi- gration and the building of a railroad by the Government would result. The sequel has far exceeded the most extravagant hopes of all who were then concerned. This able and patriotic statesman who had so deeply interested himself in the project under consideration, not only for the reasons already given, but also in the interest of accelerating communication between the Union- ists of the Pacific Coast and the Fed- eral authorities, ended strangely. Stalwart Union senator that he was, he afterward espoused the cause of the Southern Confederacy, when his native state, Mississippi, seceded, and by so doing lost his great prestige, influence, and fortune in California. After the war he drifted into Mexico and the service of the ill-staixed Emperor Maximilian, who, in 1866, made him Duke of Sonora in the furtherance of the visionary scheme of western empire. But Gwin shortly afterward died. Col. Alexander Majors, who long survived his partners, and wrote a highly interesting and instructive book of strictest authenticity, entitled "Seventy Years on the Frontier," THE POXY EXPRESS SUCCEEDS gives in substance the following his- tory of the Pony Express, which account necessarily repeats in a few brief instances some of the preceding matter in this chronicle. Col. Majors says that in the winter of 1859, while the senior member of the firm was in Washington, he became intimately acquainted with Senator Gwin, of California, who, as stated previously, was very anxious that a quicker line for the transmission of letters should be established than that already worked by Butterfield; the latter was outrageously circuitous. The senator was acquainted with the fact that the firm of Russell, Majors, and Waddell were operating a daily coach from the Missouri River to Salt Lake City, and he urged Mr. Russell to consider seriously the propriety of starting a pony express over the same route, and from Salt Lake City on to Sacramento. After a lengthy consultation with Senator Gwin, Mr. Russell consented to attempt the thing, provided he could induce his partners to take the same view of the proposed enterprise as himself, and he then returned to Leavenworth, the headquarters of the firm, to consult the other members. On learning the proposition suggested by Senator Gwin, both Colonel Majors and Mr. Waddell at once decided that the expense would be much greater than any possible revenue from the undertaking. Mr. Russell, having, as he thought, partly at least, committed himself to the Senator, was much chagrined at the turn the affair had taken, and he declared that he could not abandon his promise to Mr. Gwin, consequently his partners must stand by him. That urgent appeal settled the question, and work was commenced to start the Pony Express. On the Overland Stage Line, oper- ated by the firm, stations had been located every ten or twelve miles, which were at once utilized for the operation of the express; but beyond Salt Lake City new stations must be constructed, as there were no possible stopping places on the proposed new route. In less than two months after the promise of the firm had been pledged to Senator Gwin, the first express was ready to leave San Fran- cisco and St. Joseph, Missouri, simul- taneously. The fastest time ever thus far made on the "Butterfield Route" was twenty-one days between San Fran- cisco and New York. The Pony Express curtailed that time at once by eleven days, which was a marvel of rapid transit at that period. The plant necessary to meet the heavy demand made on the origin- ators of the fast mail route over the barren plains and through the dan- gerous mountains was nearly five hundred horses, one hundred and ninety stations, and eighty experi- enced riders, each of whom was to make an average of thirty-three and one-third miles. To accomplish this, each man used three ponies on his route, but in cases of great emer- gency much longer distances were made. As suggested by two members of the firm, when they protested that the business would not begin to meet the expenses, their prophecies proved true; but they were not disappointed, for one of the main objects of the institution of the express was to learn whether the line through which the express was carried could be made a permanent one for travel during all the seasons of the year. This was determined in the affirmative. In the spring of i860, Bolivar 26 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY Roberts, superintendent of the west- ern division of the Pony Express, went to Carson City, Nevada, to engage riders and station agents for the Pony Express route across the Great Plains. In a few days fifty or sixty riders were engaged — men noted for their lithe, wiry physiques, bravery and coolness in moments of great personal danger, and endurance under the most trying circumstances of fatigue. Particularly were these re- quirements necessary in those who were to ride over the lonely route. It was no easy duty; horse and human flesh were strained to the limit of physical tension. Day or night, in sunshine or in storm, under the dark- est skies, in the pale moonlight, and with only the stars at times to guide him, the brave rider must speed on. Rain, hail, snow, or sleet, there was no delay; his precious burden of letters demanded liis best efforts under the stern necessities of the hazardous service; it brooked no de- tention; on he must ride. Some- times his pathway led across level prairies, straight as the flight of an arrow. It was oftener a zigzag trail hugging the brink of awful precipices and dark, narrow canons infested with watchful savages, eager for the scalp of the daring man who had the temerity to enter their mountain fastnesses. At the stations the rider must lie ever ready for emergencies; fre- quently double duty was assigned him. Perhaps he whom he was to relieve had been murdered by the Indians, or so badly wounded that it was impossible for him to take his tour; then the already tired express- man must take his place and be of? like a shot, although he had been in the saddle for hours. The ponies employed in the service were splendid specimens of speed and endurance ; they were fed and housed with the greatest care, for their mettle must never fail the test to which it was put. Ten miles distance at the limit of the animal's pace was exacted from him, and he came dashing into the station flecked with foam, nos- trils dilated, and every hair reeking with perspiration, while his flanks thumped at every breath. Nearly two thousand miles in eight days must be made; there was no idling for man or beast. When the express rode up to the station, both rider and pony were always ready. The only delay was a second or two as the saddle pouch with its precious burden was thrown on and the rider leaped into his place, then away they rushed down the trail, and in a moment were out of sight. Two Inmdred and fifty miles a day was the distance traveled by the Pony Express, and it may be assured the rider carried no surplus weight. Neither he nor his pony were handi- capped with anything that was not absolutely necessary. Even his case of precious letters maile a bundle no larger than an ordinary writing tab- let, Vait there was $5.00 paid in advance for ever}^ letter transported across the continent. Their bulk was not in the least commensurable with their number; there were hun- dreds of them sometimes, for they were written on the thinnest tissue paper to be procured. There were no silly love missives among them nor frivolous correspondence of any kind ; business letters only that demanded the most rapid transit possible and warranted the immense expense at- tending their journey found their way by the Pony Express. The mail-bags were two pouches of leather, impervious to rain, sealed, and Brigham Young 21 28 BLAZIXG THE WESTWARD WAY strapped to the rider's saddle before and behind. The pouches were never to contain over twenty pounds in weight. Inside the pouches, to fur- ther protect their contents from the weather, the letters and despatches were wrapped in oil silk, then sealed. The pockets themselves were locked, and were not opened between St. Joseph and Sacramento. The Pony Express, as a means of communication between the two remote coasts, was largely employed by the Government, merchants, and traders, and would eventually have been a paying venture had not the construction of the telegraph across the continent usurped its usefulness. The arms of the Pony Express rider, in order to keep the weight at a minimum, were, as a rule, limited to revolver and knife. The first trip from St. Joseph to San Francisco, 1966 in exact miles, was made in ten days; the second, in fourteen ; the third, and many succeed- ing trips, in nine. The riders had a division of from one hundred to one hundred forty miles, with relays of horses at distances varying from twenty to twenty-five miles. In i860, the Pony Express made one trip from St. Joseph to Denver, 625 miles, in two days and twenty-one hours. The Pony Express riders received from $120 to $125 a month. But few men can appreciate the danger and excitement to which those daring and plucky men were subjected; it can never be told in all its constant variety. They were men remarkable for their lightness of weight and energ}-. Their duty demanded the most consummate vigilance and agil- ity. Many among their number were skillful guides, scouts, and couriers, and had passed eventful lives on the Great Plains and in the Rocky Moun- tains. They possessed strong wills and a determination that nothing in the ordinary course could balk. Their horses were generally half-breed Cali- fornia mustangs, as quick and full of endurance as their riders, and were as sure footed and fleet as a mountain goat; the facility and pace at which they traveled was a marvel. The Pony Express stations were scattered over a wild, desolate stretch of coun- try, 2,000 miles long. The trail was infested with "road agents" and hos- tile savages who roamed in formid- able bands, ready to murder and scalp with as little compunction as they would kill a buffalo. Some portions of the dangerous route liad to be covered at the astounding pace of twenty-five miles an hour, as the distance between stations was determined by the phys- ical character of the region. For the most part, the employes of the Pony Express were different from the plainsmen of the time, generally. The latter were usually boisterous, profane and intemperate. The organ- izers of the Pony Express were abste- mious, moral and truthful men, and they sought to have their employes observe a high standard of integrity. When the plans for the Pony Ex- press had been sufficiently matured and all was in readiness to start on the day set, the enterprising firm that had organized the enterprise, and which owned it entirely and without Govern- ment subsidy, or other, that is to say the firm of Russell, Majors & Waddell, through Mr. Russell, who was the most enthusiastic and insistent, at first, of the members, caused the following advertisement to be published in the "NewYork Herald" of March 26, i860, and the "Missouri Republican" of St. Louis, on the same date: THE PONY EXPRESS SUCCEEDS 29 TO SAN FRANCISCO IN EIGHT DAYS - )BY( - THE CENTRAL OVERLAND CALIFORNIA -)AND(— PIKE'S PEAK EXPRESS. The first courier of the Pony Express will leave the Missouri Ri\-cr on Tuesday, April 3d, at 5 o'clock p. m., and will run regularly weekly thereafter, carrying a letter mail only. The point of departure on the Missouri River will be in telegraphic commxmication with the East and will be announced in due time. Telegraphic messages from all parts of the United States and Canada, in connec- tion with the point of departure will be received up to 5 o'clock p. m. of the day of leaving, and transmitted over the Placer\'ille and St. Joseph telegraph wire to San Francisco and intennediatc points, by the connecting express in eight days. The letter mail will be delivered in San Francisco in ten days from the departure of the Express. The express passes through Forts Kearney, Laramie, and Bridger, Great Salt Lake City, Camp Floyd,. Carson City, the Washoe Silver Mines, Plaeerville, and Sacramento. Letters for Oregon, Washington Terri- tory, British Colvtmbia, the Pacific Mexican ports, Russian possessions. Sandwich Islands, China, Japan, and India will be mailed in San Francisco. Special messengers, bearers of letters to connect with the express of the 3d of April, will receive communications for the courier of that day at No. 481 Tenth Street, Washington City, up to 2 .45 p. ni. on Friday, March 30, and in New York, at the office of J. B. Simpson, Room No. 8, Continental Bank Building, Nassau Street, up to 6 .30 a. m. of March 31st. Full particulars can be obtained on application at the above place and agents of the Company. W. H. RUSSELL, President. Leavenworth City, Kansas, March, i86o. Office in New York, J. B. Simpson, Vice- President. Samuel & Allen, Agents, St. Louis. H. J. Spaulding, Agent, Chicago. The Civil War began in nine months after the Pony Express was started, and never has news been more anxiously awaited than on the Pacific Coast during the existence of this enterprise. The first tidings of the attack on Fort Sumter was sent by the Pony Express, and its connections, to San Francisco in eight days, fourteen hours. From that time on a bonus was given by California business men and public officials to the PonV Express Com- pany to be distributed among the riders for carr}-ing war news as fast as possible. For bringing the news of the battle of Antietam to Sacra- mento one day earlier than usual, in 1 86 1, a purse of $300 extra was collected for the riders. During the last few weeks preced- ing the termination of the Pony Express, by the opening of the trans- continental telegraph, the express riders brought an average of 700 letters per week from the Pacific coast. In those last few weeks, after the telegraph had been completed to Fort Kearney, the "pony" rates were reduced to $ i . 00 per half ounce, and each letter was enclosed in a 10- cent Government stamped envelope for each half ounce, and this was the only financial interest the Govern- ment had, at any time, in the Pony Express enterprise, until the remnant of it was transferred by Russell, Majors & Waddell to the Wells- Fargo Company. In all the trips across the conti- nent, and the 650,000 miles ridden by the Pony Express riders of the Rus- sell, Majors & Waddell Company, the record is that only one mail was lost, and that a comparatively small and unimportant one. Notwithstanding that the packages of letters were wrapped in oil silk, / 30 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY they were sometimes injured by water when, occasionally, a rider was forced to swim his horse across a swollen stream. Once under such circumstances the horse was drowned, but the rider, with his mail, escaped. When, on one occasion, the rider was killed by Indians, the pony escaped with the letter pouch which was subsequently recovered, and the letters were promptly forwarded to their destination. CHAPTER V OFF BOTH WAYS James Buchanan President of the United States in those da\'s THE day of the first start, on the 3d of April, i860, at noon, sa3's Colonel Majors, Harr}' Roff, mounted on a spirited half-breed broncho, left Sacramento on his peril- ous ride, covering the first twenty miles, including one change, in fifty-nine min- tites. On reach- ing Folsom he changed again and started for Placerville at the foot of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, fifty- five miles dis- tant. There he connected with "Boston," who took the route to Friday's Station, crossing the eastern summit of the Sierra Nevada. Sam Hamilton next fell into line and pursued his way to Genoa, Carson City, Dayton, Reed's Station, and Fort Churchill, seventy- five miles. The entire run was made in fifteen hours and twenty-minutes, the entire distance being 185 miles, which included the crossing of the western summit of the Sierra Nevada through thirty feet of snow! Here Robert Haslam took the trail from Fort Churchill to Smith's Creek, 120 miles through a hostile Indian coun- trv. From that point Jay G. Kelley rode from Smith's Creek to Ruby Valley, Utah, 116 miles. From Ruby Valley to Deep Creek, H. Richardson, 105 miles. From Deep Creek to Rush Valley, old Camp Floyd, 80 miles; from Camp Floyd to Salt Lake City, 50 miles, the end of the western division — in all 130 miles — was rid- den by George Thacher. On the same day, and the same moment, Mr. Russell superintended the start of the Pony Express from its eastern terminus. An arrangement had been made with the railroads between New York and St. Joseph for a fast train which was scheduled to arrive with the mail at the proper time. The Hannibal & St. Joseph , Railroad also ran a special engine, and the boat which made the crossing of the Missouri River was detained for the purpose of instantly transferring the letters. Mr. Russell in person adjusted the letter pouch on the pony. Many of the enthusiastic crowd, who had congregated to witness the inau- guration of the fast mail, plucked hairs from the hardy little animal's tail as talismans of good luck. In a few seconds the rider was mounted, the steamboat gave an encouraging whistle, and the pony dashed away on his long journey to the next sta- tion. There has been much discussion among those interested as to who rode the first horse out of St. Joseph at the opening of the Pony Express service, manv claiming that the rider was John Frey. Mr. Huston Wyeth, a native of St. Joseph, and one of the most distinguished citizens of Mis- souri, wrote to his friend, J. H. Keet- ley, one of the first of the Pony Express riders, now at the head of an extensive mining concern at Salt Lake City, Utah, and Mr. Keetley replied in the following letter, a copy of which 32 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY Mr. Wyeth gave to the author of this book: Salt Lake City, Utah, August 2 i , 1907 Mr. Huston Wyeth, St. Joseph, Mo. Dear Sir: — Yours of the 17th inst. received, and in reply will say that Alex Carlyle was the first man to ride the Pony Express out of St. Joe. He was a nephew of the superintendent of the stage line to Denver, called the "Pike's Peak Express." The superin- tendent's name was Ben Fickland. Carlyle was a consumptive, and could not stand the hardships, and retired after about two months trial, and died within about six months after retiring. John Frye was the second rider, and I was the third, and Gus Cliff was the fourth. J. H. Keeti-ey When he was a Pony E.xpress Rider I made the longest ride without a stop, only to change horses. It was said to be 300 miles, and was done ;i few minutes inside of twenty-four hours. I do not vouch for the dis- tance being correct, as I only have it from the division superintendent, A. E. Lewis, who said that the dis- tance given was taken by his English roadometer which was attached to the front wheel of his bugg\- which he used to travel over his di\'ision with, and which was from St. Joe to Fort Kearney. The ride was made from Big Sandy to EUwood, opposite St. Joe, carrying the eastgoing mail, and returning with the westbound mail to Seneca without a stop, not taking time to eat, but eating my lunch as I rode. No one else came within sixty miles of equaling this ride, and their time was much slower. The Pony Express, if I rememlier correctly, started at 4 o'clock p. m., April 16, i860, with Ale.x Carlyle riding a nice brown mare, and the people came near taking all the hair out of the poor beast's tail for souvenirs. His ride was to Guittard's, 125 miles from St. Joe. He rode this once a week. The mail started as a weekly delivery, and then was increased to semi- weekly inside of two months. The horses, or relays, were supposed to be placed only ten miles apart, and traveled a little faster than ten miles per hour so as to allow time to change, but this could not always be done, as it was difficult then in the early settlement of the country to find places where one could get feed and shelter for man and beast, and some- times horses had to go twenty-five to thirty miles, but in such cases there were more horses placed at such stations to do the work, and they did not go as often as the horses on the shorter runs. At the start the men rode from 100 to 125 miles, but after the semi-weekly started, they rode about 75 or 80 miles. My ride and those of the other boys out of St. Joe was 125 miles, to Guittard's, but later we only rode to Seneca, eighty miles. The first pony started from the one-story brick express office on the east side of Third Street, between Felix and Edmond streets, but the office was afterwards moved to the Patee House. At 7 o'clock a. m. we were ordered from the stables two blocks east of the Patee House by the firing of a cannon in front of the Patee House which was the signal for the ferry boat to come from Ellwocd and to lie in waiting at the landing OFF BOTH WAYS 33 tmtil our arrival. We rode into the office and put on the mail, which con- sisted of four small leather sacks six by twelve inches, fastened on to a square macheir which was put over the saddle. The sacks were locked with little brass locks much like one sees to-day on dog collars, and the sacks were sewed to the macheir, one in front and one behind each leg of the rider. When the mail was put on, and the rider mounted on his race horse, which was always used out of St. Joe to the Troy Station, nine miles from EUwood, he bounded out of the office door and down the hill at full speed, when the cannon was fired again to let the boat know that the pony had started, and it was then that all St. Joe, great and small, were on the sidewalks to see the pony go by, and particularly so on the route that they knew the pony was sure to take. We always rode out of town with silver mounted trappings deco- rating both man and horse and regu- lar uniforms with plated horn, pistol, scabbard, and belt, etc., and gay flower-worked leggings and plated jingling spurs resembling, for all the world, a fantastic circus rider. This was all changed, however, as soon as we got on to the boat. We had a room in which to change and to leave the trappings in until our return. If we returned in the night, a skiff or yawl was always ready and a man was there to row us across the river, and to put the horse in a little stable on the bank opposite St. Joseph. Each rider had a key to the stable. The next day we would go to the boat, cross the river, bring our regular horse and our trappings across to the St. Joe side. We stayed in St. Joe about three days and in Seneca about the same length of time, but this depend- ed pretty much on the time that we received the mail from the West. The Pony Express was never started with a view to making it a paying investment. It was a put-up job to change the then Overland mail route which was running through Arizona on the southern route, changed to run by way of Denver and Salt Lake Citv, where Ben Holladay had a stage line running tri-weekly to Denver and weekly to Salt Lake. The object of the Pony Express was to show the authorities at Washington that by way of Denver and Salt Lake to Sacramento was the shortest route, and the job worked successfully, and Ben Holladay secured the mail con- tract from the Missouri River to Salt Lake, and the old southern route people took it from Salt Lake City to Sacramento. As soon as this was accomplished and the contract awarded, the pony was taken off, it having fulfilled its mission. Perhaps the war also had much to do with changing the route at that time. I hope the data I have given you will be satisfactory and of value to you. I have been asked for it many times, but have always refused. You will please excuse me for not sending my photo or allowing my people at home to furnish the old daugerrotype there that was taken when I made the ride as I am much opposed to publicity and newspaper notoriety or any other puffs, but it is impossible to always keep clear of reporters and to keep them from saying something. I will add that the letters were all wrapped in oil silk, in case the pony A Pressing Situation 34 BLAZING THE WESTWARD II'.AV had to swim, to keep the mail dr>-, and the regular charge was $5.00 a half ounce. Yours tndy, J, H. Keetley. The route of the riders from St. Joseph, after crossing the Missouri River, lay a little southwest until it struck the old military road forty- four miles out, at Kennekuk, then it turned a little northwesterly across the Kickapoo Indian Reservation, by the way of Grenada, Logchain, Sen- eca, Ash Point, Guittard's, Marys- ville, Hollenburg, up Little Blue Valley to Rock Creek, Big Sandy, Liberty Farm, over prairies to Thirty- two-mile Creek, across the divide, over sand hills and prairies to Platte River, and due west up that valley to Kearney. This was the trail taken by the Mormons in 1847, ^'id after- ward by the gold seekers to Californici in 1848-g, and by General Albert Sidney Johnston and his army of 5,000 men, who marched from Fort Leavenworth to Salt Lake Cit\' in 1857-S. From Fort Kearney the train led westward 200 miles along the Platte to old Julesburg, tlien across the J. II. Keeti.ey 1-Ja:, . a prusjierous Salt Lake business iiiuii. South Fork of the Platte northwest- erly to Fort Laramie, then over the foothills at the base of the Rockies to South Pass, by Fort Bridger to Salt Lake. Thence by the route of the riders from the Sacramento end, as given heretofore, to the steamer at Sacramento for San Francisco. Of the riders from the St. Joseph start, after those mentioned by J. H. Keetley in his letter to Mr. Wyeth, printed earlier in this chapter, Ale.K Carlyle, John Frye, Keetley himself, and Gus Cliff; the first named died of consumption shortly after the service was inaugurated. Frye joined the Union army as a member of Gen. Blunt's scouts, and was killed in Arkansas in 1863 in a hand-to-hand fight with a company of "Arkansas rangers" in which battle he killed with his own hand, before being overcome, no less than five of his antagonists. Gus Cliff died in Los Angeles, California, in 1865, of bron- chitis, while serving with a govern- ment freighting outfit. Melville Baughn was another of the riders who alternated with Car- lyle, Frye, Keetley, and Cliff from St. Joseph to Seneca, but was after- ward transferred to the Fort Kearney and Thirty-two-mile Creek. Once on this run his pony was stolen. Baughn followed the thief to Loup Creek, secured his pony, and rode back to Kearney where he found the mail pouch and finished his trip, a little behind schedule time. The record is that Baughn, a few years after- ward, lost his life at the hands of the law, at Seneca, iipon a charge of murder. Jim Beatley, whose name "in the States" was Foote, rode from Seneca to Big Sandy, fifty miles, and doubled his route twice a week. He was a native of Richmond, Va., and was OFF BOTH WAYS 35 killed in a quarrel at Farrell's ranch in Southern Nebraska in 1862, by an Overland employe named Milt Hotter. Will Boulton, who rode opposite to Beatley, was living in Minnesota at last accounts. Once while Boulton was within five miles of his station, Guittard's, his pony becoming dis- abled, he was forced to abandon the animal and "foot it" with his pouch and accoutrements to the station, where he received another mount and completed his trip. Don C. Rising for a time rode from Big Sandy to Fort Kearney. He was not seventeen, but it is reported that he made two runs, on special orders, when he averaged twenty miles an hour. He was from Steuben County, N. Y., and -now resides at Wetmore, Neb. "Little Yank" rode between Cot- tonwood Springs and Julesburg, and often covered 100 miles at a trip. He weighed not over one hundred pounds, and was twenty-five years old. Hogan was the name of the rider from Jiilesburg to Mud Springs, near historical Chimney Rock, about eigh- ty miles. He lives somewhere in Nebraska. Theodore Rand's run was no miles, from Box Elder to Julesburg. He covered the entire distance always at night. He was a Pon}- Express rider from the time the system was inaugurated until it was withdrawn. While the schedule time was ten miles an hour, he generally averaged twelve miles an hour. When he first went on the line he rode each animal twenty -five miles, but later he was given a fresh horse every fif- teen miles. Rand is now a railroad man living at Atchison, Kansas. James Moore, whose most remarkable rides and adventures are mentioned Col. W. F. Codv As he was in Union Pacific Building Days. elsewhere in these chronicles, was one of the riders between St. Joseph and Salt Lake, as was W. F. Cody, who is also spoken of at lengtli in a separate chapter. Bill Cates was one of the riders along the Platte who had many excit- ing adventures with Indians. James W. Brink was one of the early mail-carriers on the plains, and was one of the first Pony Express riders on the eastern half. He was known as "Dock" among the early stage drivers, and was with Hickok — Wild Bill— in the fight at Rock Creek Station when five of the McCandless band of outlaws were killed. Upon the day of this writing the author talked with Charles Cliff — brother of Gus ClifT — at St. Joseph, Mo., where he is engaged in mer- chandizing. Charles was only seven- teen when he was a Pony Express rider, and he was one of the most 36 BLAZIXiJ THE WESTWARD WAY daring. He rode on alternate days from St. Joseph to Seneca, and gen- eralh' covered his eighty miles in eight hours. Three years after the closing of the Pony Express enter- prise he was freighting on the plains and one day became engaged in a battle with Indians. In this fight he received three bullets in his body and twentv-se\en more in his clothes. His party, composed of the men neces- sary to the piloting of nine wagons, was besieged three days by a war band of loo Sioux, which was held at bay until the arrival of a large train with men enough to put the Indians to flight. Will D. Jenkins, now a distin- guished citizen of Washington State^ residing at Olympia, the capital, and who has frecjuently held high office in that commonwealth, was at times employed as a Pony Express rider, his home being at Big Sandy, Ne- braska, in those days. Writing of the Pony Express he says: "Although only a substitute, I shall always retain a certain degree of pride in the fact that I rode stations on the old Pony Express, and that at a time and place when it was far safer to be at home. I remember also Bob Emery's wild stage drive from 'The Narrows.' I was an eye wit- ness of that exciting event. During my boyhood days on the plains I wit- nessed many exciting chases, but none that would compare with that wild drive. One Sioux warrior mounted on a fleeter pony than the other Indians would make a com- plete circle of the stage, and at each circle would send in a volley of arrows. But Bob succeeded in land- ing his passengers at the station, none of them injured." Captain Levi Hensel has been for many years an honored citizen of Pueblo, Colorado, and is well known to this writer. He says in a letter : "I had the contract to shoe the Overland stage and Pony Express horses that ran from Kennekuk to Big Sandy up to the time that I threw down my hammer and went into the army. I missed the best three years to make money by doing so, but don't regret that I helped to save the Union. Sometimes they ran ponies in from Fort Kearney and beyond to be shod. The animals that John Frye and Jim Beatley used to ride were the worst imps of Satan in the business. The only way that I could master them was to throw them and get a rope around each foot, stake them out, and have a man on the head and another on the body, while I trimmed the hoofs and nailed on the shoes. They would squeal and bite all the time I was working with them. It generally took half a day to shoe one of them. But travel ! They seemed never to get tired. I knew John Frye to ride one of them fifty miles without change. He was about as tough as the ponies, and Jim Beatley was another off the same piece. Jim w-as murdered in some sort of a cowboy row up the road, and poor Johnnie Frye was killed on the Canadian River by bushwhackers. I saw him within a few minutes after he was killed. He was one of General Blunt's sharp-shooters, along with W. S. Tough, John Sinclair, and other of the pony riders who had turned soldier. We were returning from chasing Stan Watie and gang through the Indian Nation, almost to Bogy Depot, Texas. The scouts ran into a band of Indian bushwhackers at Canadian Crossing. Frye was one of the most noted of all the Pony Ex- press riders, and had many hair- OFF BOTH WAYS j7 breadth escapes from Indians on the row passes and along the steep plains. He never knew what fear defiles, Utah, Fort Bridger, Salt Lake was, and several times made runs City, he witches Brigham with his through hostile bands when others swift pony-ship — through the valleys, weakened." along the grassy slopes, into the snow. The large newspapers of both New into sand, faster than Thor's Thialfi, York and the Pacific Coast were away they go, rider and horse — did ready patronizers of the Express. The you see them? issues of their papers were printed on "They are in California, leaping tissue manufactured purposely for over its golden sands, treading its this novel way of transmitting the busy streets. The courser has un- news. On the arrival of the pony rolled to us the great American pano- from the West, the news brought rama, allowed us to glance at the from the Pacific and along the route home of one million people, and has of the trail was telegraphed from St. put a girdle around the earth in forty Joseph to the East the moment the minutes. Verily the riding is like animal arrived with his important the riding of Jehu, the son of Nimshi, budget. for he rideth furiously. Take out To form some idea of the enthu- your watch. We are eight days from siasm created by the inauguration of New York, eighteen from London, the Pony Express, the St. Joseph The race is to the swift." Free Democrat said in relation to this The expenses of the Pony Express novel method of carrying the news during the part of two years that it across the continent: was operated were, approximately, as "Take down your map and trace follows: the footprints of our quadrupedantic Equipping the line Si 00,000 animal: From St. Joseph, on the Maintenance, $30,000 per Missouri, to San Francisco, on the ^, ^""^'V ' V ' ' ^,'r 480,000 ^ , , ., . ., , M Nevada Indian War 7i,ooo Golden Horn-two thousand miles- Miscellaneous 45,000 more than half the distance across our boundless continent; through $700,000 Kansas, through Nebraska, by Fort While it is true that the receipts did Kearney, along the Platte, by Fort not reach as high as $1,000 per trip, Laramie, past the Buttes, over the in all they did not exceed $500,000, Rocky Mountains, through the nar- leaving a net loss of $200,000. CHAPTER VI FAMOUS RIDES AND RIDERS A Flank Movement OF the brave deeds, stirring inci- dents, and romantic adventures of the gallant riders of the West, and especially of the Pony Express riders and other employes of that unique organization, volumes liave been written, and much must forever remain unwritten, as it cannot ever be known. Nearly all of the partici- pants in the memorable enterprise have "gone over the Divide," and the bullet of Indian or border ruffian "blue penciled" many a story that would have been startling, ere the man who knew it best could turn it in. Perhaps the greatest physical achievement of all the performances of the horsemen of the West, as a matter of endurance, was the ride of F. X. Au- brey from the plaza of Santa Fe, N. M., to the public square at Independence, Mo., a distance of nearly 800 miles, through a country inhabited by warlike Indians, a large part of which was then a sandy desert. It was about the year 1 85 1 that Aubrey gave his wonderful test of human endurance, before which all other attempts of the kind pale into insignificance. He was a short, heavy set man, thirty-eight years of age, in the prime of manhood and strength. His business for ten years as a Santa Fe trader had made liim perfectly familiar with the trail and all the stopping places. He was a perfect horseman, and although there were great riders in those days, none of them cared to dispute the palm with Aubrey. On a wager of $1,000, he undertook to ride alone from Santa Fe to Independence inside of six days. It was fifty-five years ago that he undertook the terrible feat. It was to be the 38 FAMOUS RIDES AND RIDERS 39 supreme effort of his life, and he sent half a dozen of the swiftest horses ahead to be stationed at the different points for use in the ride. He left Santa Fe in a sweeping gallop, and that was the pace kept up during every hour of the time until he fell fainting from his foam-covered horse in the square at Independence. No man could keep up with the rider, and he would have killed every horse in the line rather than to have failed in the undertaking. It took him just five days and nineteen hours to perform the feat, and it cost the lives of several of his best horses. After being canied into a room at the old hotel at Independence, Aubrey lay for forty-eight hours in a dead stupor. He would never have recov- ered from the shock had it not been for his wonderful constitution. The feat was unanimously regarded by western men as the greatest exhibi- tion of strength and endurance ever known on the plains. The ride of Jim Moore, a noted frontiersman of the pioneer days, was another remarkable performance. Moore was a man of almost perfect physique; in fact, by military stand- ards he was a model. He weighed 1 60 pounds, stood five feet ten inches, straight as an arrow, with good neck well set on his shoulders, small waist, but good loins, and had the limbs of a thoroughbred. No finer looking man physically ever rode a broncho than Jim Moore. He could run like an Indian, was as active as a panther, the best natured man in the world, but as courageous as a lion. He was one of the first Pony Express riders. His route was from Midway Sta- tion, half way between Fort Kearney and Cottonwood Springs, to Jules- burg, a distance of 140 miles. Moore rode the round-trip of 280 miles once a week. The stations were from ten to fourteen miles apart, and a fresh horse, Spanish blood, was obtained at each station. There was little delay in these changes of horses, as the rider gave the. "coyote yell" half a mile away, and, day or night, the station men had the pony ready, so that the rider had only to dismount from one horse, saddle and mount the other, and with a dig of his spurs, he was on a run again. On each route there were two express riders, one going each way. As easy as it may seem to some for a man to bestride horse after horse for 140 miles, there were few men able to endure it. Upon the occasion of which I speak, Moore's route partner had been ailing and Moore was anticipating and dreading that he might have to double the route. In this anticipa- tion he realized that there is a time limit to endurance, and therefore he gave the "bronchos" a little more of the steel than usual and made the trip to Julesburg in eleven hours. Arriv- ing at Julesburg, he had his fears confirmed. His partner was in bed. He had hoped that he might have a few hours for rest, but before he had time to dismount and stretch his cramped and tired muscles, the "coyote yell" of the east-going rider was heard. He drank some cold coffee, filled his pocket with cold meat, and was in the saddle again for another 140-mile ride. In order to be able to live the route out, he sent his ponies for all there was in them, with the result that he arrived at Midway after having ridden 280 miles in twenty-two hours from the time he had left there. Ben Holladay gave him a gold watch and a certifi- cate of this remarkable performance. Many of the old frontiersmen now living knew Moore, knew of his 280- 40 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY mile ride in twenty-two hours, and have seen the watch and certificate. J. G. Kelley, one of the veteran riders, now hving in Denver, tells his story of those eventful days, when he rode over the lonely trail carrying despatches for Russell, Majors and Waddell. "Yes," he said, "I was a Pony Express rider in i860, and went out with Boli\'ar Roberts, and I tell you to protect us from the Indians. As there were no rocks or logs in that vicinity, it was built of adobes, made from the mud on the shores of the lake. To mix this and get it to the proper consistency to mould into adobes, we tramped all day in our bare feet. This we did for a week or more, and the mud being strongly impregnated with alkali carbonate of soda, you can imagine the condition The Last Station it was no picnic. No amount of money could tempt me to repeat my experience of those days. To begin with, we had to build willow roads, corduroy fashion, across many places along the Carson River, carrying bundles of willows two and three hundred yards in our arms, while the mosquitoes were so thick that it was difficult to tell whether the man was white or black, so thickly were they piled on his neck, face, and arms. "Arriving at the Sink of the Carson River, we began the erection of a fort of our feet. They were much swollen and resembled hams. We next built a fort at Sand Springs, twenty miles from Carson Lake, and another at Cold Springs, thirty-seven miles east of Sand Springs. At the latter sta- tion I was assigned to duty as assis- tant station-keeper, under Jim Mc- Naughton. "The war against the Pi-Utc Indi- ans was then at its height, and as we were in the middle of their country, it became necessary for us- to keep a standing guard night and day. The FAMOUS RIDES AND RIDERS 41 Indians were often skulking around, but none of them ever came near enough for us to get a shot at him, till one dark night when I was on guard, I noticed one of our horses prick up his ears and stare. I looked in the direction indicated and saw an Indi- an's head projecting above the wall. My instructions were to shoot if I saw an Indian within rifle range, as that would wake the boys quicker than anvthing else; so I fired and missed my man. "Later on we saw the Indian camp- fires on the mountain and in the morning many tracks. They evi- dently intended to stampede our horses, and if necessary kill us. The next day one of our riders, a Mexican, rode into camp with a bullet hole through him from the left to the right side, ha\'ing been shot by Indiaiis while coming down Edwards Creek, in the Quaking Aspen Bottom. He was tenderly cared for, but died before surgical aid could reach him. "As I was the lightest man at the station, I was ordered to take the Mexican's place on the rottte. My weight was then one hundred pounds, while I now weigh one hundred and thirty. Two days after taking the route, on my return trip, I had to ride through the forest of quaking aspen where the Mexican had been shot. A trail had been cut through these little trees, just wide enough to allow horse and rider to pass. As the road was crooked and the branches came together from either side, just above my head when mounted, it was impos- sible for me to see ahead for more than ten or fifteen yards, and it was two miles through the forest. I expected to have trouble, and pre- pared for it by dropping my bridle- reins on the neck of the horse, putting my Sharp's rifle at full cock, and keeping both my spurs into the pony's flanks, and he went through that forest 'like a streak of greased light- ning.' "At the top of the hill I dismounted to rest my horse, and looking back saw the bushes moving in several places. As there were no cattle or game in that vicinity, I Knew the movements to be caused by Indians, and was more positive of it, when, after firing several shots at the spot where I saw the bushes in motion, all agitation ceased. Several days after that two United States soldiers, who were on their way to their command, were shot and killed from the ambush of those bushes, and stripped of their clothing by the red devils. "One of my rides was the longest on the route. I refer to the road be- tween Cold Springs and Sand Springs, thirty-seven miles, and not a drop of water. It was on this ride that I made a trip which possibly gave to our company the contract for carry- ing the mail by stage coach across the Plains, a contract that was largely subsidized by Congress. "One day I trotted into Sand Springs covered with dust and per- spiration. Before I reached the sta- tion, I saw a number of men running toward me, all carrying rifles, and one of them with a wave of his hand said, 'All right, you pooty good boy; you go.' I did not need a second order, and as quickly as possible rode out of their presence, looking back, however, as long as they were in sight, and - keeping my rifle handy. "As I look back on those times I often wonder that we were not all killed. A short time before. Major Ormsby of Carson City, in command of seventy-five or eighty men, went to Pyramid Lake to give battle to the Pi-Utes, who had been killing emi- 42 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY grants ami prospectors by the whole- sale. Nearly all of the command were killed. Another regiment of about seven hundred men, under the command of Colonel Daniel E. Hun- gerford and Jack Hayes, the noted Texas ranger, was raised. Hunger- ford was the lieau-ideal of a soldier, as he was already the hero of three wars, and one of the best tacticians of his time. This command drove the Indians pell-mell for three miles to Mud Lake, killing and wounding them at every jump. Colonel Hungerford and Jack Hayes received, and were entitled to, great praise, for at the close of the war terms were made which have kept the Indians peace- able ever since. Jack Hayes died several years ago in Alameda, Cali- fornia. Colonel Hungerford, at the ripe age of seventy years, is hale and hearty, enjoying life and resting on his laurels in Italy, where he resides with his grand-daughter, the Princess Colonna. "As previously stated, it is mar- velous that the ])ony boys were not all killed. There were only four men at each station, and the Indians, who were then hostile, roamed over the country in bands of from thirty to a hundred. "What I consider my most narrow escape from death was being shot at by a lot of fool emigrants, who, when I took them to task about it on my return trip, excused themselves by saying 'We thouglit vou was an Indian.' " Stories of the pony express riders, their adventures with Indians and outlaws, and "hairbreadth 'scapes by field and flood" could be told at sufficient length to till a hundred volumes as large as this, but many of them were so much alike that they would appear in the narration to be simply repetition, yet one required as much dash and nerve as another. The service created the greatest enthusiasm, not only among the riders, but among all others of the employes and all along the route, and to aid a "pony" in trouble was jumped at as a high privilege. For instance, on the first trip the west-bound rider, between Folsom's and Sacra- mento, was thrown and his leg broken. A stage of the Wells-Fargo Company found him in this plight, and the special agent of the stage company volunteered to finish the ride, which he succeeded in doing so well as to arrive at Sacramento only one hour and thirty minutes late. This agent was J. G. McCall who was for many years afterward the Pacific Coast agent of the Erie Railroad. McCall often afterward told of the great reception that he got at Sacra- mento, and how the whole town turned out to enthusiastically wel- come him. The service also created much inter- est among Eastern newspapers, the more prominent of which kept repre- sentatives at St. Joe to collect news from this source. Henry Villard, afterward president of the Northern Pacific, was at the time under con- sideration the representative of the New York Tribune. Beside "Buffalo Bill" and "Pony Bob," written of at length later in these chronicles, those of the pony riders who have been heard of within the last few years are these: Jay G. Kelley was captain of Co. C, F'irst Nevada Infantry, during the Civil War, after which he resumed the business of mining and was engaged at that at last accounts. Sam and Jim Gilson long ago became millionaires at mining in Utah. Mike Kelley became a successful miner at Austin, Nevada. FAMOUS RIDES AXD RIDERS 43 Jim Bucklin, "Black Sam," Jim and Bill McNaughton died many years' ago. Bill Carr was hanged at Carson, Nevada, for the murder of Bernard Cherry, his being the first legal exe- cution in that territory. H. J. Faust became a prominent physician in Utah. Of "Irish Tom" and Jose Zongoltz, nothing has been learned since the service ended. Among other noted Pony Express riders, not specially mentioned else- where in these pages, were Jim Clark, George Spurr, Henry Wallace, George Towne, Jim McDonald, Wm. James, John Burnett, Jim Bucklin, Wm. Carr, Wm. Carrigan, Major Egan, J. K. Ellis, H. J. Faust, John Fisher Jim Gentry, Jim Gilson, Sam Gilson, Lee Huntington, James William, Bob Martin, J. G. McCaU, Jim McNaugh- ton, Josh Perkins, Johnson Richard- son, Bart Riles, George Thaeher, Henry Wallace, Dan Wescott, and as many more whose names and gal- lant deeds are lost from the records as have been the names and deeds of thousands of other heroes who helped to make the great West the rich heritage of pioneer valor, endur- ance, and enterprise. Among the humorous incidents associated with the Pony Express Aktemls \\".\kd was one associated with "Artemus W a r d " — Charles Farrar Browne — that has come to be a joke classic. Artemus was at the zenith of his fame as a humorous writer and lecturer at the time of the starting of the Pony Express. Thomas Maguire, the most prominent promoter of amusements in San Francisco at that time, desired to employ Ward for a series of entertainments in California. He sent one of the expensive dis- patches from San Francisco to New York asking Ward: "What will you take for a hundred nights?" Ward promptly responded, b)' the same means: "Brandy and water." Artemus made the trip to Cali- fornia, going by steamer via Panama, and returning overland. The engage- ment was profitable and hilarious to Artemus and Maguire, and gave much joy to the genial humorist's audiences everywhere, en route. A ' ^^<'/iy -^J/rual ^vy fVr r y7 // y CJ , CHAPTER VII TONY BOB"'— ROBERT HASLAM "Poxy Bob" — from a painting by H. H. Cross The rider is pictured as carrying the news of Lincoln's election as President, riding 120 miles, in 8 hours, 10 minutes using 13 relays of horses. He was ambushed by Indians, shot with flint-head arrows through the lower jaw. fracturing it on both sides and knocking out s teeth. AS nervy and daring as possil)lc for a man to be, and the most famous of the Pony Express riders, except Col. W. F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," was Robert Haslam, known throughout the West as "Pony Bob," and yet so- called by his intimates. He was the hero of many fights with Indians and "road agents," and the principal actor in such a numl ler of hair-breadth escapes and all manner of peril inci- dent to the westward trail that they alone would make a great volume of intense and strenuous adventure. In his own modest way Mr. Haslam tells here of some of these and others are briefly told by persons acquainted with the facts as participants in the history-making of those times. "Aljout ciglit months after the Pony Express was established, the Pi-Ute War commenced in Nevada," says Mr. Haslam. "V'irginia City, then the principal point of interest, and liourly expecting an attack from the hostile Indians, was only in its infancy. A stone hotel on C Street was in course of construction and had reached an elevation of two stories. This was hastily transformed into a fort for the protection of the women and children. From the citj' the signal fires of the Indians could be seen on every mountain peak, and all available men and horses were pressed into service to repel the impending assault of the savages. "When I reached Reed's Station, "PONY BOB"— ROBERT HASLAM 45 on the Carson River, I found no change of horses, as all those at the station had been seized by the whites to take part in the approaching battle. I fed the animal that I rode, and started for the next station, called Bucklands, afterward known as Fort Churchill, fifteen miles farther down the river. It was to have been the termination of my journey, as I had changed my old route to this one, in which I had had many narrow es- capes, and been twice wounded by the Indians. "I had already ridden seventy-five miles; but, to my great astonish- ment, the other rider refused to go on. The superintendent, W. C. Marlev, was at the station, but all his persua- sion could not prevail on the rider, Johnson Richardson, to take the road. Turning then to me, Marlcy said: " 'Bob, I will give you $50 if you make this ride.' "I replied, 'I will go at once.' "Within ten minutes, when I had adjusted my Spencer rifle, which was a seven-shooter and my Colt's revol- ver, with two cylinders ready for use in case of emergency, I started. From the station onward it was a lonely and dangerous ride of thirty- five miles, without a change, to the Sink of the Carson. I arrived there all right, however, and pushed on to Sand Springs, through an alkali bottom and sand hills, thirty miles farther, without a drop of water all along the route. At Sand Springs I changed horses and continued on to Cold Springs, a distance of thirty- seven miles. Another change and a ride of thirty more miles brought me to Smiths Creek. Here I was relieved by J. G. Kelley. I had ridden 190 miles, stopping only to eat and change horses." This run is on record as the fastest of the entire route of 2,000 miles. Continuing, Bob says: "After re- maining at Smith's Creek about nine hours, I started to retrace my journey with the return express. When I arrived at Cold Springs to my horror I found that the station had been attacked by Indians, the keeper killed, and all the horses taken away. I decided in a moment what course to pursue — I would go on. I watered my horse, having ridden him thirty miles on time, he was pretty tired, and started for Sand Springs, thirty- seven miles away. It was growing dark, and my road lay through heavy sage brush, high enough in some places to conceal a horse. I kept a bright lookout, and closely watched every motion of my poor pony's ears, which is a signal for danger in an Indian countr\-. I was prepared for a fight, but the stillness of the night and the howling of the wolves and coyotes made cold chills run through me at times; but I reached Sand Springs in safety and reported what had happened. Before leaving, I advised the station keeper to come with me to the Sink of the Carson, for I was sure the Indians would be upon him the next day. He took my advice, and so probablj' saved his life, for the following morning Smith's Creek was attacked. The whites, however, were well protected in the shelter of a stone house, from which they fought the savages for four days. At the end of that time they were relieved by the appearance of about fifty volunteers from Cold Springs. These men reported that they had buried John Williams, the brave keeper of that station, but not before he had been nearly devoured by the wolves. "When I arrived at the Sink of the 46 BLAZIXG THE WESTWARD WAY Carson, I found the station men badly frightened, for they had seen some fifty warriors decked out in their war-paint and reconnoitering. There were fifteen white men here, well armed and ready for a fight. The station was built of adobe, and was large enough for the men and ten or fifteen horses, with a fine spring of water within a few feet of it. I rested here an hour, and after dark started for Buckland's, where I arrived without a mishap and only three and a half hours behind schedule Kit Carson Famous scout who guided Fremont's Exploring Expedition time. I found Mr. Marley at Buck- land's, and when I related to him the story of the Cold Springs tragedy and my success, he raised his previous ofTer of $50 for my ride to $100. I was rather tired, but the excitement of the trip had braced me up to with- stand the fatigue of the journey. After a rest of one and a half hours, I proceeded over my own route from Bucklands to Fridays Station, cross- ing the Sierra Nevada. I had trav- eled 380 miles within a few hours of schedule time, and was surrounded by perils on every hand." After the Pony Express was dis- continued, Pony Bob was emploved by Wells, Fargo & Company as an express rider in the prosecution of their transportation business. His route was between Virginia City, Nevada, and Friday Station and return, about one hundred miles, every twenty-four hours; schedule time, ten hours. This engagement continued for more than a year; but as the Pacific Railway gradually extended its line and operations, the Pony Express business as gradually diminished. Finally, the track was completed to Reno, Nevada, twenty- three miles from Virginia City, and over this route Pony Bob rode for more than six months, making the run every day, with fifteen horses, inside of one hour. When the tele- graph line was completed, the Pony Express over this route was with- drawn, and Pony Bob was sent to Idaho, to ride the company's express route of 100 miles, with one horse, from Queen's River to the Owyhee River. He was at the former station when Major McDermott was killed at the breaking out of the Modoc War. On one of his rides he passed the remains of ninety Chinamen who had been killed by the Indians, only one escaping to tell the tale. Their bodies lay bleaching in the sun for a distance of more than ten miles from the mouth of Ives Canon to Crooked Creek. This was Pony Bob's last experience as Pony Express rider. His successor, Sye Macaulas, was killed by the Indians on his first trip. Bob bought a Flathead Indian pony at Boise, Idaho, and rode to Salt Lake City, 400 miles away. Joshua Hosmer, his brother-in-law, was United States Pony Bob as he is to-day 47 4S BLAZIXG THE WESTWARD WAY marshal for Utah, and Haslam was appointed deputy marshal, but that business not being to his liking, he became again an employe of the Wells- Fargo Company, as first mes- senger from Salt Lake City to Denver, 720 miles by stage, and filled that position for several years. At this writing, the autumn of 1907, Mr. Haslam, who is still called "Pony Bob" by his intimates, is a hale, happy, and prosperous citizen of Chicago, attending industriously cvcrv dav to his business, which is associated with the management of the vast Congress Hotel organization that includes the Auditorium Hotel and its magnificent annexes. To see Mr. Haslam as he is in the conventional garb and quiet calling that are now of his life, one would find a test of credulity when informed that the bland, mild mannered, and affable gentleman indicated had ever experi- enced the dangers, privations, and hazardous adventures that have marked the career of "Pony Bob" in blazing the western way. CHAPTER VI 11 "BUFFALO BILL"— COL. W. F. CODY ON "Cody Day" at the Trans- Mississippi Exposition in Omaha, in the summer of 1898, this writer had the good fortune to be among the guests at a banquet given by dis- tinguished citizens to Col. W. F. Cody, famed throughout the world as "Buf- falo Bill." On this occasion Col. Alexander Majors, frequently men- tioned in these chronicles, told in a speech at the table of how Will Cody, a fatherless western lad, whose sire had been slain by Indians, came to him for employment, and how he had engaged the boy to ride as a messen- ger between the freight trains of great wagons that the firm of Russell, Majors and Waddell were at that time sending to and fro in long cara- vans across the western plains. Col. Majors spoke in high laudation and deep affection of Cody, both as man and boy, and told much con- cerning this famous plainsman's career as messenger, Pony Express rider, guide, hunter, and Indian fighter. Among other things he told of how Will Cody, when he received his first month's pay, which was a considerable sum for a boy in his "teens" to earn, took the coin to his mother, and in his exhilaration spread it out over the table and said : "Ain't it splendid, mother, that I can get all this money for you and my sisters?" Some one in the party exclaimed, much to the amusement of the ban- queters: "Yes, and he has been spreading it ever since." Col. Majors dwelt with the elo- quence of truth, high character, earnestness, and affection upon the faithfulness and intrepidity of Cody, and mentioned that part of the line over which Cody rode in the express service as being particularly hazard- ous. This route lay between Red Buttes and Three Crossings, so called because the trail ran through a canon where the Sweetwater reached from wall to wall, and had to be crossed three times in a short distance. It was a most dangerous, long, and lonely trail, including the perilous crossing of the North Platte River, which at that place was half a mile wide, and, though generally shallow, in some places reached a depth of twelve feet, a stream often much swollen and very turbulent. An average of fifteen miles an hour had to be made, including change of horses, detours for safety, and time for meals. He passed through many a gauntlet of death in his flight from station to station, bearing express matter that was of the greatest value. Colonel Cody, in telling the story of his own experiences with the Pony Express, says: "The enterprise was just being started. The line was stocked with horses and put into good running order. At Julesburg I met Mr. George Chrisman, the leading wagon- master of Russell, Majors and Wad- dell, who had always been a good friend to me. He had bought out 'Old Jules,' and was then the owner of Julesburg Ranch, and the agent of the Pony Express line. He hired me at once as a Pony Express rider, but 50 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY as I was so young he thought I was not able to stand the fierce riding which was required of the messengers. He knew, however, that I had been raised in the saddle, that I felt more at home there than in any other place, and as he saw that I was con- fident that I could stand the racket, and could ride as far and endure it as well as some of the old riders, he gave me a short route of forty-five miles, with the stations fifteen miles apart, and three changes of horses. I was fortunate in getting well-broken ani- mals, and being so light I easily made my forty-five miles on my first trip out, and ever afterward. "As the warm days of summer approached, I longed for the cool air of the mountains; and to the moun- tains I determined to go. When I returned to Leavenworth I met my old wagon-master and friend, Lewis Simpson, who was fitting out a train at Atchison and loading it with sup- plies for the Overland Stage Company, of which Mr. Russell, my old em- plover, was one of the proprietors. Simpson was going with this train to Fort Laramie and points farther west. " 'Come along with me, Billy,' said he. 'I'll give you a good lay-out. I want you with me.' " 'I don't know that I would like to go as far west as that again,' I replied. 'But I do want to ride the Pony Express once more; there's some life in that.' " 'Yes, that's so; but it will soon shake the life out of you,' said he. 'However, if that's what you've got your mind set on, you had better come to Atchison with me and see Mr. Russell, who, I'm pretty certain, will give you a situation.' "I met Mr. Russell there and asked him for employment as a Pony Ex- press rider; he gave me a letter to Mr. Slade, who was then the stage- agent for the division extending from Julesburg to Rocky Ridge. Slade had his headquarters at Horseshoe Station, thirty-si.x miles west of Fort Laramie, and I made the trip thither in company with Simpson and his train. "Almost the first person I saw after dismounting from my horse was Slade. I walked up to him and presented Mr. Russell's letter, which he hastily opened and read. With a sweeping glance of his eye he took my measure from head to foot, and then said : . 'My boy, you are too young for a Pony Express rider. It takes men for that business.' " 'I rode two months last year on Bill Trotter's division, sir, and filled the bill then; and I think I am better able to ride now,' said I. " 'What! Are you the boy that was riding there, and was called the youngest rider on the road?' " 'I am the same boy,' I replied, Sitting Bull and Col. Cody 'BUFFALO BILL'— COL. W. F. CODY 51 confident that everything was now all right for me. " 'I have heard of you before. You are a year or so older now, and I think you can stand it. I'll give you a trial, anyhow, and if you weaken vou can come back to Horseshoe Sta- tion and tend stock." "Thus ended our interview. The next day he assigned me to duty on the road from Red Buttes on the North Platte to the Three Crossings of the Sweetwater — a distance of seventy-six miles — and I began rid- ing at once. It was a long piece of road, but I was equal to the under- taking, and soon afterward had an opportunity to exhibit my power of endurance as a Pony Express rider. ''For some time matters f)rogressed very smoothly, though I had no idea that things would always continue so. I was well aware that the portion of the trail to which I had been assigned was not only the most desolate and lonelv, but it was more eagerly watched bv the savages than else- where on the long roiite. "Blade, the boss, whenever I ar- rived safelv at the station, and before I started out again, was always very earnest in his suggestions to look out for my scalp. , " 'You know, Billy,' he would say, 'I am satisfied yours will not always be the peaceful route it has been with you so far. Every time you come in I expect to hear that you have met with some startling adventure that does not always fall to the average express rider.' "I replied that I was always cautious, made detours whenever I noticed anything suspicious. 'You bet I look out for number one.' The change soon came. "One day, when I galloped into Three Crossings, my home station, I Ji iHN- Nelson T>"pical Frontiersman found that the rider who was expected to take the trip out on mv arrival, had gotten into a drunken row the night before and had been killed. This left that division without a rider. As it was very difficult to engage men for the service in that uninhabited region, the superinten- dent requested me to make the trip until another rider could be secured. The distance to the next station, Rocky Ridge, was eighty-five miles and through a very bad and danger- ous country, but the emergency was great and I concluded to try it. I, therefore started promptly from Three Crossings without more than a moment's rest: I pushed on with the usual rapidity, entering every relay station on time, and accom- plished the round trip of 322 miles back to Red Buttes without a single mishap and on time. This stands on the records as being the longest Pony Express journey ever made. "A week after making this trip, and 32 BLAZING THE WESTWARD WAY while passing over the route again, I was jumped on by a band of Sioux Indians who dashed out from a sand ravine nine miles west of Horse Creek. They were armed with pis- tols, and gave me a close call with several bullets, but it fortunately happened that I was mounted on the fleetest horse belonging to the express company and one that was possessed of remarkable endurance. Being cut off from retreat back to Horseshoe, I put spurs to my horse, and lying flat on his back, kept straight for Sweetwater, the next station, which I reached without acci- dent, having distanced my pursuers. Up- on reaching that place, however, I found a sorry condition of affairs, as the Indians had made a raid on the station the morning of my adven- ture with them, an