Alden the Pony Express Rider/Chapter 4
CHAPTER IV
THE DANGER CLOUD
THE emigrant train to which our young friends belonged ran into bad weather, while crossing northeastern Kansas, and again before reaching Fort Kearny, in Nebraska. A cold, drizzling rain set in which made people and animals so uncomfortable that a halt of nearly two days was made. The oxen and horses cropped the lush grass which grew exuberantly, and their masters spent most of the time in the big covered wagons, where they were protected from the chilling storm. Some read the few books and newspapers brought with them, a number played cards, smoked and exchanged reminiscences, yawned and longed for the skies to clear.
During the whole period, Shagbark was in one of his grumpy moods, and rarely passed a word with any one. One night he told Mr. Fleming the weather would clear before morning. He proved to be right, as every one expected, and the cavalcade resumed its plodding tramp westward.
Then for days the weather was perfect. The sun shone from the clear blue heavens, unflecked except here and there by a rift of snowy cloud. The air was bright and clear, with just enough crispness to make walking or riding pleasant. The country was level or rolling. The eye, wandering over every point of the compass, caught no misty mountain range or peak, and the work of the patient oxen was play compared to what it would be when they should have entered the rougher regions farther toward the setting sun.
The course most of the time was in sight of the Platte River, which, swollen by the melting snows near the headwaters and the recent rains, was a broad, majestic stream. Yet there were times during the summer drought, when one could pick his way across dry shod. More than once, as the company went into camp, they saw the twinkling fires of another party who had also halted for the night. Once these starlike points glimmered to the south, once to the northwest and twice to the north, on the other side of the Platte. When it is stated that more than 40,000 persons crossed the plains in 1849, and that later 500 wagons were counted in one day as they lumbered past Fort Kearny, the wonder is that more trains did not meet and mingle. This was often done when a common danger threatened from Indians.
Jethro Mix and Alden Payne, with their ponies on a walk, were riding side by side, and the colored youth had just made his decision not to reveal at that time the secret which weighed so heavily upon him, when his friend exclaimed:
“Helloa, Jeth! do you see that?”
In answer to his inquiring look, Alden, who had turned part way round in his saddle, pointed to the rear. Far in the distance, a dark object was seen, which was quickly recognized as a horseman coming with his animal on a dead run. He was not in a direct line behind the train, but a little to the south. If he kept to his course he would pass a couple of hundred yards to the south.
On he came with his half-breed pony runing as if a hundred lives were at stake. He made swift, tremendous leaps, his thin neck outstretched, his flowing tail streaming straight behind, with his nose extended, as he strained every muscle to reach his destination without the loss of a minute. His rider was a small man, weighing not more than a hundred and twenty pounds, and his riding revealed a master of the art. He leaned slightly forward in the saddle, the front of his hat standing straight up as if plastered against his forehead, the ends of the handkerchief looped about his neck fluttering in the gale caused by his own swiftness, while he occasionally pricked the ribs of his horse with his spurs, though such urgency was hardly needed.
As he flashed opposite, the rhythmic thump of the pony’s hoofs on the sod was heard by the emigrants, all of whom were gazing at man and animal. The former’s garments fitted so snugly that only the fringes over and back of the shoulders, and those on the thighs quivered. The trousers were thrust into the tops of his boots, whose heels were high and pointed, and after the fashion among cowmen and plainsmen.
The watchers identified his character at once, and needed not the sight of the broad flat flaps fastened across the saddle, one in front and the other behind him. He glanced toward the train, and observing all eyes upon him, raised a hand in salutation, but did not speak or make any further acknowledgment of the cheers. In a twinkling the emigrants were gazing upon his back, the ends of the fluttering handkerchief, fringes of clothing, streaming tail and flying hoofs of the pony, which flung chunks of earth into the air as he skimmed away on the wings of the wind.
“A Pony Express Rider!” said Alden; “how he goes!”
“How long hab he been doing it?” asked Jethro.
“From the station five miles back, and he’ll keep it up till he reaches the next station farther on.”
“What den?”
“He’ll shift his saddle and mail bags to a pony that is waiting, and then gallop at the same headlong speed for ten or twelve miles more, and change again unless that is the end of his run. This isn’t the first time, Jeth, we have seen those men riding like mad, and we are likely to see many more before we get sight of the Pacific.”
“I didn’t obsarve dat he carried a rifle.”
“He had none, but a few of the riders carry them; this one doesn’t think he is likely to need any, and so he lightens the load of his horse that much. Shagbark managed to say a few words to me last night, and one thing he told me was that the Pony Express riders sometimes miss it in not taking a rifle with them. They are so anxious to make schedule time that they run into danger. It often happens that when they most need a gun they haven’t it. I hope that fellow won’t be caught in such a fix.”
“Gorry nation! don’t he trabbel? Why can’t we do de same ting, Al?”
“If we could change horses every ten or twelve miles, we might keep it up for a day at a time, but we should have to have two or three hundred horses waiting for us at the different stations,” observed Alden, thinking to close the argument.
“How would it do fur us to ride ahead and fix it dat way? Den we could come back and skim ober de kentry like a couple ob muskeeters.”
“After we had placed our ponies at the last station this side of Sacramento, what should we gain by coming here and going over the ground a second time?”
Jethro lifted his well worn hat and scratched his head.
“Dat’s so; I didn’t tink ob dat; blamed queer how it slipped my mind—what’s de matter wid Shagbark?”
Before the flying horseman vanished in the distance, the emigrant train resumed its slow progress. The massive guide, on the back of his gaunt steed, kept his place well in advance. Often he went for hours without looking back to note in what order the company were following him, but now he had turned like Alden did a few minutes before, and, without checking his steed or shifting his course, was gazing fixedly to the rear. His brierwood was between his lips, and from the thicket of whisker and mustache the blue vapor issued as if from the funnel of a small steamcraft.
At the moment the two youths looked at him, he raised one of his huge hands and beckoned.
“His eyes are on us,” said Alden.
“He’s looking at me,” added Jethro; “he feels bad at de way he snubbed me jest arter we started, and means to apolergize; he don’t want you; notice now. Gee up, Jilk!”
The negro twitched the rein, and his pony struck a moderate trot. He had not crossed a fourth of the intervening distance, when the guide thundered:
“NO! I don’t want ye, ye black imp! Stay whar ye are! Young Payne is the chap I meant; why don’t ye come when I tell ye to come?”
The laughing youth spoke to his mare, and hurried forward.
“Wal, if he ain’t the mos’ umbrageous rapscallion dat eber trod on two legs,” growled Jethro as his friend passed him, hurrying to answer Shagbark’s call.
Acquainted by this time with the moods of the old trapper, Alden did not speak as he drew up beside him, but waited to learn what he had in mind.
“I want ye to keep with me a while,” remarked Shagbark, who had checked his animal and now resumed his progress on a walk; “I’ve something to say to ye.”
“I’m listening.”
“Have ye obsarved anything ’tickler?”
Uncertain what was meant, the youth replied:
“I can’t say that I have: what do you mean?”
“Ye carry a telescope by a cord round your neck; ’spose ye use it.”
Still in doubt, Alden brought the binocular round in front, and held it suspended with one hand.
“In what direction shall I look?”
“Anywhar ye choose, but thar’s no need of wastin’ time; p’int it ahead and a little to the left away from the river.”
The lad raised the instrument and scanned a fourth of the horizon to the right and left. At first he saw only the broad, level sweep of plain, and was about to say so, when something caught his eye. What seemed to be a half dozen or more specks flickered on the horizon, but even with the aid of the glass he could not make them out clearly and at first was in doubt.
Sbagbark kept his keen eyes on the youth, he knew from the expression on Alden’s face that he had discovered that which the other meant him to see.
“Wal, what is it?” asked the guide.
“I am not sure, but I think a party of horsemen are hovering along the bank of the river, a little way out on the prairie.”
“Zactly; are they white or red?”
“It is impossible to tell at so great a distance.”
“Onpossible fur ye; what good is that gimcrack of yers, anyway?”
“It shows me what I could not otherwise see.”
“I never use them things, but my eyes tell me a blamed sight more than that can tell ye; them horsemen ye obsarved are Injins.”
“You have wonderful eyesight, Shagbark,” remarked Alden admiringly, again lifting the glass to his eyes and peering through them.
“I can make out the horsemen quite plainly, but that is all.”
“I seed ’em two hours ago and have been watching ’em ever since.”
“That Express Rider that went by will run into them.”
“No, he won’t; he ain’t such a fool; he’ll make a big sneak to the left and get past ’em; if it was among the mountains, he wouldn’t have half the chance, but he knows what to do and he’ll do it, as sure as ye are knee high to a grasshopper.”
“Why do they keep so far from us?” asked Alden.
“They don’t want us to see ’em, and they hain’t any idee that we do, but,” chuckled the guide, “they don’t know old Shagbark has charge of these folks.”
The old man seemed vastly pleased, and his massive shoulders bobbed up and down for a minute, while he puffed hard at his pipe.
“Do you think they intend to bother us?” asked Alden.
“No; I don’t think; I know it; we ain’t through with ’em; if they don’t pay us a visit to-night, we shall hear of ’em to-morrer night as sure as a gun.”
“Why don’t they make an open attack, as I have been told the Indians often do?”
“A red varmint never takes chances when he has a show of getting what he wants without it; there ain’t ’nough of ’em to ride up and open fire; don’t ye see that if they hold off till darkness, believing as how we haven’t an idee they’re within a thousand miles, and we ain’t keeping a lookout, they believe they can play thunder with us?”
There was no questioning the truth of this theory. Alden slipped the cord which held the glasses over his head and handed them to the guide.
“Try them; good as are your eyes, these will help you.” But the old fellow shook his head.
“I don’t need any of your new-fangled notions; when my eyes go back on me, I’ll resign and hike over the divide.”
Alden Payne was deeply interested in what he had been told. A crisis threatened in which under heaven all depended upon the sagacity of this veteran of the plains. The youth waited for him to explain his intentions.
“Ye see now the sense of my making some of the men stand guard every time we went into camp; they’ve been trained so they know how to do it; ye’ve had to take yer turn with the rest of ’em.”
“And glad was I to do so; I hope you will use me to-night.”
“Which is ’zactly what I’m going to do; that’s all I’ve got to say now; ride back to that thick-headed darky.”
“Shall I tell him what you have just said to me?”
“I hain’t any ’bjections; it’ll probably scare him half white, but ye needn’t say anything to anybody else, ’cepting Fleming; tell him to come up hyar for a little talk on bus’ness with me.”
Alden turned his mare about and galloped to where the leader of the company was riding beside another man, and told him Shagbark wished a few words with him. Fleming instantly moved forward, and was soon engaged in earnest conversation with the guide.
“Wal, Al, did Shagbark ’spress sorrer fur the way he treated me?” asked Jethro, as his friend joined him.
“Nothing of the kind; you may have noticed that I pointed my glasses toward the prairie ahead?”
“Yas; I had my eye on you.”
“Well, some miles off is a large party of Indians on horseback; they are keeping us in sight, but don’t think we know anything of them.”
“Gorrynation!” gasped Jethro; “you don’t say so; what am dey gwine to do?”
“Quite likely they will attack our camp to-night.”
Jethro gasped again and nearly fell out of the saddle.
“W-w-what we gwine to do?” he stammered.
“Make the best fight we can; you can shoot pretty well, Jeth, and you may have a chance to prove your markmanship. Bear in mind, however, that when a painted warrior raises his gun to shoot you, you must fire before he does.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, the colored lad faltered:
“You’s joking, Al; you don’t mean it suah.”
“Very well, if you prefer to look upon it as a joke, do so, but it is likely to prove a serious one to you and all of us.”
“Why don’t Shagbark turn de teams round and hurry back to St. Joe as fast as he kin, or to Fort Kearny or some place whar we has friends dat will took care ob us?”
“We should make a fine show with our oxen dragging the heavy wagons; all the Indians are well mounted and can come up with us whenever they choose to do so.”
“Let de oxen and wagons stay where dey am.”
“We haven’t enough horses to carry half the women and children.”
“Can’t dey run?”
Alden was silent a moment as if considering the suggestion of the sable youth. Finally he shook his head.
“It won’t do, Jeth; they wouldn’t have half a show; the Indians would overtake the women and little ones before they could go more than a few hundred yards. No; we must stand our ground like men, keep cool and put up the best fight we can.”
“’Spose de Injins lick us?” asked Jethro in a trembling voice.
Alden shrugged his shoulders.
“That will be the end; they won’t spare a man, woman or child; you are the only colored member of the party and you know an Indian hates a black man like poison.”
“Am you suah oh dat?”
“I have been told so by those who know.”
“Why do dey feel dat way?” asked the scared youth.
“I can’t explain it; they seem to have a deep prejudice against all American citizens of African descent. I have met some white men who feel the same way.”
“Can’t you manage to explanify to de red gemman dat dar ain’t no reason for dar dislike oh us colored folks?”
“I am afraid that no explanation will help, Jeth; make up your mind, as I said, to put up the best fight you can and if you have to go down, do so with colors flying.”