Alden the Pony Express rider

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The pony lifted his head, with the blades of grass dripping from his jaws, and looked questioningly at the youth, who whistled again and walked in his direction.

It would be interesting could we know what whims passed through the brain of the animal which was one of the most intelligent of his species. The Express Riders used so many horses and were forced by circumstances to shift so often from one to the other, that not often was any special affection formed between the human and brute. In other instances, the fondness was deep and the two stuck to each other whenever and wherever it was possible to do so.

Dick in his own way must have mourned the loss of his master when he tumbled from the saddle, but he accepted the substitute in the minute that he appeared, and yielded the same obedience to one as to the other. Brief as had been the pony’s service, he like his companions, had imbibed the fact that his one duty in life was to carry the mail pouches with the highest speed at his command, and that such service was to be performed under the guidance of the man who sat on his back.

When Dick, therefore, heard the whistle and recognized the youth, he paused only long enough to make sure there was no mistake, and then with a neigh of pleasure, he trotted toward him. As the two met, Alden patted the animal’s nose and spoke affectionately:

“Good Dick! you’re worth your weight in gold; I should be in a bad fix without you.”

He sprang into the saddle. He had hardly settled in his seat when the pony broke into a trot, which quickly rose to a gallop, though it was not a dead run. That would come very soon.

The observant Alden noted one fact: the horse did not take the course which he was following when alarmed by the approach of the black bear. He veered well to the left, thus leaving the carcass out of sight in the other direction. His kind dread a dead bear almost as much as a live one.

The action of Dick confirmed what his new master had suspected from the first: the route to the station was not over a single, narrow trail to which the riders confined themselves, but covered an area that gave wide latitude. That he took the path which was taken by the man who saved him from the bear was one of those providential occurrences that are more common in this life than most people believe.

The emigrant trains were disposed to keep to certain paths, where the face of the country compelled a closing in, but in other sections the respective courses were separated by miles, and, as has been shown the parties plodding across the plains, even though their routes were parallel, were often so far apart that for days they saw nothing of one another. Even the twinkle of their camp fires were too far over the “convex world,” to be visible.

Alden Payne could not free himself from the belief that it was safer to hold Dick down to a moderate pace than to give him free rein. The mail was already hopelessly behind time,—a fact which did not concern him—though he was determined to deliver it at the station if it were possible for him to do so. This could be done before dark with the pony on a trot or walk.