Buffalo Bill and the Overland Trail / Being the story of how boy and man worked hard and played hard to blaze the white trail, by wagon train, stage coach and pony express, across the great plains and the mountains beyond, that the American republic might expand and flourish

by Edwin L. Sabin

This Lightning Express was taking a whole sawmill out—as well as a large family. The household wagon bore the sign “Lightning Express”; it was drawn by a mule and an ox, pulling together. Then followed a freighting wagon loaded with the sawmill, and drawn by a yoke of oxen and a horse, the horse being in front of the yoke of oxen. A woman and several children were trudging beside the covered wagon. A man afoot drove with his whip.

“Right you are,” replied Captain Hi to the hail.

“Have you heard any news?” quavered the woman. “Is it true that people are putting knives in the bottom of their wagon-boxes and sliding down Pike’s Peak and scraping up the gold in big slivers?”

“I’ve heard about it but I’ve never seen it, ma’am,” said Hi, truthfully.

“When do we see the mountains?”

“Oh, not for a few hundred miles more,” informed the Reverend, kindly.

“Well, when you get there and see Jacob Smith from Posey County, Injianny, tell him we’re coming as fast as we can,” she called after them.

“We will.”

“Shouldn’t wonder if that was Jacob Smith or some other pilgrim on his way back already,” proclaimed Jim, pointing. “Reckon he’s made his pile and is heading home to spend it.”