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
