Alden the Pony Express rider

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

Several facts saved Alden Payne from drowning. In the first place, the deep hole into which he stepped was only three or four feet across. The space was so slight indeed that his own momentum in walking threw him against the other side, where the water was shallower than before. Moreover, he was a powerful swimmer, but the strongest swimmer that ever lived could not sustain himself when incumbered by such heavy clothing, two mail pouches and a rifle. The youth promptly let go of the weapon, but clung to Uncle Sam’s property as if it were his very life. It was a desperate struggle but when he floundered to his feet he held the bags intact and they were with him as he stepped out upon the bank.

His gun was gone beyond recovery, but he had his revolver, which like the contents of his match safe was not affected by the submersion. It could be fired as readily as before, though it was a weak substitute for the gun that was gone.

But his plight could not have been more dismal. He was wet to the skin by the frigid water which made his teeth chatter, and the night had grown so cold that he must do something quickly to save himself from perishing. Two plans offered themselves. His first thought was to hunt a sheltered spot, gather wood and start a vigorous blaze, but a minute’s reflection showed him that would never do. Leaving out the danger of such action, the largest fire in the open would do little good. With no blanket, his clothing saturated and most of the warmth going to waste, he would only make his condition more miserable. He might pivot his body to the blaze, but he would always be chilled. It would take a long time to collect enough fuel, and he would have to keep the fire going throughout the night.

The only thing that could save him was exercise. The healthful, reviving glow must come from within, and that had to be generated by action. He recalled the words of his father when the two were caught in a drenching rainstorm while on a hunt deep in the forest.

“Our clothes and shoes are wet through and through; no fire we can start in the woods will dry them or make us comfortable. When your shoes are soaked don’t take them off even in the house, but walk, walk, walk. Soon your chilled feet will become warm, and the man who dries his stockings and shoes upon him will never catch cold therefrom.”

It was the best of advice, and Alden never forgot it. He could hold the general direction, and the few miles between him and the station were but a brief walk for which in ordinary circumstances he would care nothing. Before leaving the stream he did another sensible thing. He studied the myriads of stars in the sky and fixed upon one of the first magnitude. In the crystalline air, it gleamed like the sun it really was. He thought it was Venus, but whether right or wrong, he knew the location of the planet and he determined to make it his compass.

Without such a guidance he would inevitably drift from his course, follow a circle and come back to his starting point, or never get anywhere except to the place he shouldn’t go.

It seemed strange to Alden that he saw no emigrant train plodding westward. With the hundreds dotting the country all the way from the Missouri to Salt Lake City, it would seem that he ought to be in sight of one or more all the time, but he had not observed any since parting from his own friends.

One welcome fact was apparent: that part of the trail over which he was walking was more favorable than the miles already traversed. The ground was comparatively level, though the piles of rocks, an occasional ridge (none very high), and the growth of willows continued at intervals. By making his detours as brief as possible, he steadily gained ground.

When he started he could not prevent his teeth from sounding like the music made by “bones” at a minstrel entertainment. He shivered and felt wretched, with the soggy leathern pouches flapping his neck, like a grotesque tippet; but ere long his incisors stopped their music, and the chills shook no more. Then a most glowing warmth permeated through his body. Even the numb feet felt as if he were toasting them in front of a fire. Clearly he had done the only sensible thing to do.