Alden the Pony Express rider

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

“If it is so, there must be a pass, for many others have traveled this road before me.”

It seemed that he ought to overtake some emigrant train, since hundreds of them were plodding westward, and his speed was much greater than theirs. But he saw no more evidence of other persons about him than if he were in the midst of an unknown desert. He might as well have been the only horseman or footman within a thousand miles of the spot.

It was with a queer sensation that once more scanning the ridge to the northwest, Alden distinguished a column of smoke climbing into the sky, just as he had discerned one earlier in the afternoon. He had not yet decided in his own mind whether the former bore any relation to his passage through the gorge, and he was equally uncertain about the signal that now obtruded itself. He brought his binocular to bear, and with ’Ceph on a rapid walk, spent several minutes in studying the vapor. The result was as in the previous instance, except that the fire which gave off the smoke appeared to be burning among a clump of pines instead of behind a pile of boulders. Once or twice in the gathering gloom he fancied he detected the twinkle of the blaze; but if so, the fact gave him no additional knowledge of the puzzling question.

It cannot be said that he felt any misgiving, so long as the course of the pony did not lead him toward the signal smoke which may not have been a signal after all. Wandering bands of Indians must have had frequent need of fires for preparing food, and it would seem that more of them ought to have been seen by the horseman.

’Ceph was still walking. Although the steepness had declined, he showed no disposition to increase his pace. Alden was surprised, for it was not that way with Dick. The viciousness shown by the pony lowered him in the esteem of the youth. He could not shake off the suspicion that the ugly spirit would show itself again, even though the animal had been conquered for the time.

For the last fifteen minutes, Alden was conscious of a dull, steady roar which gradually increased as he went on. He was drawing near the cause and must soon learn its nature. He was still wandering and speculating, when he caught the gleam of water through the sparse willows that lined the trail.

“Jenkins told me I should have to cross some streams and this must be one of them.”

So it proved. A minute later, the animal came to the margin of a swift creek which flowed at right angles to his course. In the obscurity of the settling night, Alden made out the farther bank, which was about a hundred yards away. A growth of willows showed, and ’Ceph hesitated with outstretched nose, as he snuffed the ground. Instead of entering the water at once, he moved to the right for several rods and stopped again. He was looking for the ford, from which fact his rider judged they were off the regular trail. Leaning over in the saddle he scrutinized the ground. He saw no signs of hoofprints or tracks of wagon wheels.

He did not interfere with the horse, who, having passed the brief distance, began snuffing again and gingerly stepped into the stream. When the water came to his knees, he paused long enough to drink and then resumed feeling his way across.