The Mena weekly star., 1897-11-03
LITTLE KYUSE, ... ... THE BRAVE. THE ORPHAN PAWNEE ON THE PONY EXPRESS.

h w of Missouri or east of California they used to carry mail and light freight on horseback between St. Joe and Sacramento. This service was known as the pony express. Horses swift and strong and riders brave and enduring were employed, and relay sta tions were set 50 miles apart across the Great American desert.
 Of course the west was wild at that time; many riders were murdered and the letters and other valuable articles taken and destroyed. Indians would steal upon these little stations, kill the keepers and carry the horses away with them, so that when the weary rider arrived there was no one to take his place, and after gazing at the black ruins for a moment he would push his tired horse on toward the next sta ton.
 At first it was hard to find mon who were willing to face these dreadful In 3ians for the pay offered by the com pany and equally difficult to get men to dwell alone in these solitary sta tions to protect and care for the horses.
 Away out in Wyoming there lived a trapper. known only by the name of Whipsaw-a name given him by gam bier in Deadwood.
 A Sioux who had hideous scar upon his face had come to this trapper's camp one winters day with a Pawnee baby, naked and nearly frozen. The Sioux wanted to sell the boy, and the S,.,r h F. ynsf fn nd lyat ha child. The young Pawnee was not more than three years old when the trapper took him from the savage, warmed him, fed him and put moe rasins on his little brown feet.
 Two years later Whipsaw went to keep the station called White floss for the pony express, taking the Pawnee with him. The little fellow grew to love his white father and seemed to conceive a bitter hatred for all Indians. One day some friendly hunters called nt the station. The little redslSin slipped out quietly, cut the ropes and let their horses go. At another time he attempted to shoot an Indian who had stopped at the door. but could not raise the rife. Like all Indians, he was ever alert. The scratch of proving bear on the cabin door or the cry of d ione wolf on far-off hill would bring him from sound sleep. He would hear the hoofs of the incoming horses beating the plains mile away and long before his white master could hear the faintest sound.
 "Kyuse, kyuse." he would whisper in the dead of night. He was an alarm clock for the station, and at his warn ing the rider who was resting there would get up, throw saddle across the back of his bronco and be ready to snatch the pouch from the man who was then galloping down the trail.
 The little Pawnee was never too cold or too sleepy to go out and welcome the weary rider and pat the nose of the spent steed, saying softly the while "Kyuse, kyuse."
 It was the boys great fondness for horses that caused Whipsaw to call him "Little Kyuse."
 When they had kept the station Q year Little Kyuse was known, by repu- tation, at least, to every rider on the entire route from St. Joe to Sacra- mento. Once he had warned the men who were sleeping in the cabin, and they had gone out just in time to save the horses that were about to be stolen by Indians. The story of the boys do ings reached headquarters and the pres ident of the Pony Express company sent short, light rife to the young watchman, and before he was six years old he had killed wolf that came to the station while he was alone.