Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-07-05

Is
next settlement and all the country hn between
belongs to the Indian and the buffalo. For
hundred miles in the twilight and then In dark
ness Aubry listens to the creak Of saddle
leather In the dead Of night he passes Mex
lean pack train hardly slackening his gallop
while exchanges adioses with the camp guard.
The dawn is not yet gray when, nearing Point
of Rocks he gives the long drawn out coyote
yell" of the West, and man whom he sent out
8 week ago stirs the coal around a pot Of coffee
and draws in the stake rope Of fresh mount
It is the beautiful mare Dolly, famed for her
speed and endurance. On a memorable trip
five years from now she will take Aubry to
California and back. She nickers as she senses
her master.
I'D kill every horse on the Santa Fe Trail
before I'd lose that 81, 900 bet" says Aubry to
his man, but it's not the money care about
III bet another thousand that do not kill q
single horse"
The man by the fire of buffalo chips does not
have time to answer. He has changed the sad
die. Aubry has gulped down quart OF boiling
coffee and has mounted with hunk OF broiled
buffalo meat in his hand.
"Adios!"
He rides on. The high, dry country recedes
behind him, and a chill Autumn drizzle hides
the sun. He cannot see Rabbit Ear Mounds,
but he knows where they mark the edge of the
wide, fiat plains He splashes into Rabbit Ear
Greek and takes the bride off at roaring VIII
low Bar.
But where are the relay horses that were to
be here? Indians? dead mans scalped head
answers. Beautiful Dolly must go on. On on,
until she has carried Aubry $50 miles, Dolly
gallopS
At the Cimarron of the quicksands there are
three fresh horses. Aubry mounts one and
cracks his whip over the Others. He need not
spare horsehesh now He is $50 miles from the
old church at Santa Fe, and his ride is not
half done. Past Coon Greek he rlshes, past
d MI hau
bit the dust and about which for ages to come
men will tell a strange Indian legend.
Then suddenly the last Of the three horses
Aubry having ridden the other two down and
left them behind-sways, drags his feet. In
minute Aubry has unsaddled, hidden his saddle
and blanket in the grass, and bride in hand, Is
trotting on East Afoot. For 20 miles he trots
like . coyote and walks until he reaches the
crossing Of the Arkansas that Is still called by
his name, Aubry's Crossing. 1t is well that
fresh horse awaits him there. The water looks
q mile wide
At Fort Mann Aubry is compelled to
certain man on important business The man
is away shooting buf1aloes, expected back i'm
mediately. Aubry lies down and sleeps two
hours while he waits-the only sleep out Of
the saddle that he gets on the entire trip
At Council Grove he pauses only long enough
for coffee to boil; then, tying himself to fresh
horse, rides on. He legs are dead and 1t Is
$50 miles to Independence yet. 1t takes him
full days time to make that last lap For "a
hours the sky has rained "pitchforks and bob
tailed heifer yearlngs." At Big Johns Springs
he meets a trapper and swaps horses with him.
IA /HEN he draws rein in Independence town
w his words are a whisper 1t is late in the
night of September II, 1848. "Nolands" called
by some the Merchants Hotel, is alight though
and men rush out from the bar and lift the
rider from his saddle. 1t is caked with blood
Felix Xavier Aubry has won his bet.
year after the race, the newest and fastest
steamboat the Missouri River was named
the F. x. Aubry. Between her smokestacks she
had the carved image Of little man on horse
back. That was fame.
Aubry with feet and inches tall. He
weighed 100 pounds and was every ounce mus
Gle and bone. They called him Little Aubry."
He was a quiet and modest man, though he
loved fame and adventure. He was leader,
a master of men, He admired good and brave
men and good and brave horses. His ride to In
dependence was the greatest ride recorded in
history It will never be forgotten. The legends
of the Tartars and Scythians do not recall its
equal.
Not one man in 100, 900 coul ride like Aubry.
The strain of hard horseback riding is terrific.
Buffalo Bill knew whereof he was speaking
when he declared that "15 miles an hour on
horseback would in a short time shake any
man all to pieces" Aubry was made out of
rawhide Rawhide does not shake; its elasticity
is proverbial Yet Aubry was not singular:
he represented varied and numerous class.
Pony Express men relaying each other to bridge
1000 miles of wild lands in less than eight
days belonged to the class. Cowboys who rub
bed tobacco juice in their eeyes to keep awake
while riding after stampeded cattle up the
Chisholm Trail and who night and day fought
Comanches and held their thirst-maddened
herds along the Goodnight-Loving Trail across
the Pecos Desert became glorified figures in the
class. Outlaws and rangers who tore down