Huntington advertiser. [volume] (Huntington, W. Va.) 1874-1921, 1874-07-09
THE PONY-RIDER'S MISSION.

advancing toward the settlement
He had met them between the last
station and McPherson's, and they
had given chase. Mcpherson could
boast of but seventy-fve souls at that
time, before the railroad came, and
there were but forty men capable of
defending the place. Whatever was
to be done had to be done quickly
Fort Grattan was eighty miles north
west, and a rider was despatched in
haste. Fort Kearney was eighty miles
southeast, and who could summon
aid from thereY 1t was dangerous
undertaking. The route lay directly
through the hostile country, and the
messenger would be almost sure to
meet the Indians. The pony-riders,
as general thing were fearless men,
but this proposition was so fraught
with danger that they we've 10th to
undertake it.
"Ef Slade was only here" cried
an old man, "ther'd be no hesitation,
while wimmcn an children are in
danger
'I'l 60" and a bright eyed, fear
less looking young fellow stepped
forth
"Good!" said the old man, pressing
his hand; "old Jim johnson seq so
Old jim johnson! You hear me !
There's more sense in Essex's cazeba
than the hull lot of YOU. Pick your
hoss, boy, an ride for your life: See!
there's Nelly lookin' at you. For her
sake. Willie, eff no one else's. Thirty
five helpless wimmen an children;
think of it! Ride your best, an when
YOU git to the station YOU may git a
relief. Post 'em there, an when you
git to the fort tell the commandant
to send on some cavalry as soon as
possible. Fetcn the sojers, an we'll
send the Reds to Californy! Nelly
EJohnson's yourn as soon as YOU Git
back. Goodbye, boy, an may God
speed ye."
There was 3 spring, rush of hoots,
and the ride to Kearney had begun.
Right gallantly the horse sprang away
at the 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 po-
nv riders mission, and the desire to
save the people of Mcpherson from a
/ bloody death was the other. Did man
ever risk life in a better cause? On.
ward swept the little horse, her flying
heels throwing up cloud Of dust,
which hovered in the air for hun
dreds of yards behind ber. To the
left OF them glided the still waters OF
the Platte, and on the right stretched
the boundless green of the prairie
The rider sat firm as rock, his daunt-
less face looking ahead, and wearing
an air which seemed to say it was all
for the sake of Nelly johnson.
You NAV talk of the Mamelukes,
the tartar horsemen, the savage Be
douins, and all the wild riders, but
what are they to compare with our
American pony-riders--men who were
fearless, and braved every danger;
who ran the risk of life in every mile
thew dashed over; men who were ex-
pected to do fifty miles ut top speed
in daylight or dark, rain or shine,
hot or cold? But the railroad has
done away with the pony-rider, and
we hear 10 more of such exploits as
that Of the renowned Jimmy Moore
Onward swept the brave little
horse, and at last the station came IN
view. 4 minute mere and horse and
rider were at the door. No relay was
there 10 meet them Not sign ot
life was to be seen, but there were
hoof in every direction, show
ing that the relief had fled. Giving
the horse a drink, the rider mounted.
and again they were on the way to
Kearney. Further on, they came
upon a large object in the centre of
the trail. 1t was the western-bound
stage, with the horses gone, the dri-
yer between the fore wheels with a
bullet in his head, the passengers ly-
ing in the road, and the conductor in
the boot wounded unto death. One
Mortified look. pause, and faster fled
the horse. Mile after mile is left be-
hind, station after station is passed,
and no relief. VIII they ever get to
Kearney.
On the prairie TO the right of them
appeared host of mounted men,
They are the pets of the peace com
mission on their annual maraud.-
Turning with triumphant yell, they
speed to head the rider off. Narrow
er grows the space between them,
and the gallant horse redoubles his
exertions. In the van of the savages
rides Il tall chief, mounted upon a
powerful horse, his plumes streaming
in the wind as he urges the noble AMI
mai he bestrides. Young Essex can
escape if he turns back. But no.
The sweet face of Nelly johnson and
the shrinking forms of defenceless lit
tie ones come before his view, and
wiping the perspiration from his brow,
the pursued dashed onward. But a