St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1874-06-05
ST. c5ohnsburp Galedonian.
st. JOhnsbury, VT, Friday, June 5, 1874
The Pony-Rider's Mission.

had arrived with bullet in his leg, and
reported that the Pownees were of
their reservation and were advancing
on the settlement. He had met them
between the last station and McPher-
sons, and they had given chase. Nc
PherSOns could boast of but seventy
five souls at that time before the rail
road came, and there were but forty
men who were capable of defending the
place. Whatever was to he done had
to he done quickly. Fort Grattan was
eighty miles northwest, and Il rider was
despatched in haste: Fort Kearney was
seventy miles southeast, and who would
summon aid from there 1t was a
dangerous undertaking. The route lay
right through the hostile country, and
the messenger would he almost sure to
meet the Indians. The pony-riders,
as a general thing, were fearless men,
but this proposition was fraught with
danger that they were 10th to under
take it.
''Ef Slade was only here - cride an
old man. ''ther'd be no hesitation while
wimen an children were in danger ~
'I'll go y and brighteyed, fearless
looking young fellow stepped forth.
his hand, cold Jim johnson seq so! Old
Jim johnson, You hear me There's
more sense in EsscX's cazeba then the
hull lot of you. Pick your boss. boy,
an ride for your life. See there's
Nelly lookin' at you. Fer her sake,
Willy, eff no ones else. Thirty five
helpless women and children think of
it, Ride your best, an when you git
L.. rnl of
Post 'em there. an when you git to the
fort tell the commandment to send on
some cavelry as soon us possible. Fetch
the soiers, an well send the Reds to
Californy Nelly Johnson's yourn as
soon as you git back. Good by, boy,
an God speed ye.
There was spring. rush of hoots,
and the ride to kearney had begun
Right CALAMITY the little horse sprang
away at her riders bidding, and the
eyes of sweet Nelly Johnson kept upon
them until horse and rider faded away
upon the horizon.
Love was one incentive for the pony
riders mission, and the desire to save
the people of McPhersons from bloody
death was the other. Did man ever
risk life in IL better cause Onward
swept the little horse. her flying heels
throwing up cloud of dust which
lowered in the air for hundreds of yards
behind her. To the left of them glideC
the still waters of the Platte, and OF
the right stretched the hOundleSS greer
of the prairie. The rider sat firm as {;
rock, his dauntleSs face looking straight
ahead and wearing an air which seemed
to say it was all for the sake of Nelly
johnson.
You may talk of the MamelukeS, the
Tarter hOrscmen, the savage BedouinS
and all the wild riders, but what arc
they to compare with our American
pony -ridcrs-men who were fearless
and braved every danger who ran the
risk of life i'll every mile they dashed
over men who were expected to dc
fifty miles at top speed in daylight ol
dark, rain or shine. hot or cold But
the railroad has done away with the
pony-rider, and we hear no more OF
such exploits as that of the renowned
Jimmy Moore.
Onward swept III" Lra'" littln horse
ara at last the station came i'll view.
A minute more and horse and rider
to meet them. Not il sign of life was to
every direction, showing that the re-
the rider mounted. and again they were
on the way to kearney. Further on
they came upon il large object in the
centre of the trail. 1t was the Yves
bound stage with the horses gone,
the driver between the forcwheels with
Il bullet in his head. the passengers lv
ing about the road. and the conductor
in the boot wounded unto death. One
horii led look, Il pause, and faster fled
the horses. Mile after mile is left be
hind, station after station is passed, and
no relief. Will they ever get to kear-
ney
On the prairie to the right of them
appear host of mounted men. They
are the pets of the Peace Commission
on their annual maraud. Turning with
IA triumphant yell they speed to head
the rider off. Narrower grows the space
batween them, and the gallant horse
redoubleS his cXertionS. In the van of
the savages rides tall chief mounted
upon powerful horse, his plumes
streaming in the wind as he urges the
noble animal he beStrides. Young Es-
sex can escape if he turns back. But
no The sweet face of Nelly Johnson
and the shrinking forms of dctenceless
little ones come before his view, and
dashing the perSpiration from his brow
the pursued dash onward. But four
miles more and succor is at hand .
Nearer come the pursuers. Now
ride. Young Essex. for it is three-score
lives too one Speed. brave little
horse strain muscle and nerve heart,
for your work will well he done Ride.
Young Essex. for everything is at stake !.
Onward rushed the horse, his hoofs
beating time to the short, quick breaths.
The gap closes Twang \ sharp
pain i'll the side, and the rider recled in
the saddle. but for an instant only.
Bending low III the saddle, the whip is
raised for the first time. and faster fled
the horse.
And now the green ramparts and
stockaded gates of Fort Kcarney came
in view. The baf1led savages turn and
set ont rapidly up the trail, while the
tainting rider checks the faltering steps
of his dying horse. One last look ut
the waving sea of green. and they enter
the gates thrown open to receive them.
In the centre of the parade stand a
group of men about Il horse and rider.
The horse is down now, and from his
nostrlS guSheS the lite-current, and be-
side her lies the rider.
Young Essex raised his head from the
arm which supported it, and said
"Pawnees off their reservation. Nc
Phersons stations cleaned out-help-
quick . My love to-tO-Nelly-John-
IN N "