Genre: Historical Fiction
Plot: An orphan picked up along the Pony Express
Words to use: horse, journey, quest, mail, carrier, origin, destination, danger, identity, survival, winter, hope, war, message, delivery.
The chair creaked from the weight of Mr. Brecket’s feet firmly pressing against the old wooden table he made 20 years earlier, a newspaper held in calloused hands, spread out in front of his crumby vest, the steamy cup of tea waiting for him. Outside the small office of the Pony Express station, the winter wind blew fiercely, the flames disturbed in the stove ablaze.
Tensions between North and South were brewing according to the paper, his mouth turned down in a grimace, memories of the Mexican-American war. Still wearing his uniform, he made his journey out of danger. He didn’t like the idea of war starting again. It was such a waste — of life and soul.
Elias Brecket was a grey man – grey hair, always disheveled beneath a grey felt hat, intelligent grey eyes, sharp and piercing, always knowing two steps ahead of everyone else. His rugged grey appearance came from years of the Western sun, working with horses, and fixing anything broken. Once a firecracker always looking for a fight, now all he wanted was peace, quiet, and a comfortable place to lay his head. A stoic man who now was the image of survival. His dedication shifted to practicability to comfort and making sure the mail got to its destination within
He checked his pocket watch, the carrier was due soon. Elias set the newspaper to the side and got up from the chair. The view out the window was the same scenery, except for the wind blowing all the leaves around. He enjoyed the solitude, but sometimes he got lonely. He decided to get some fresh air and check on the horses. The appearance of the next delivery man eased his mind, since it could be dangerous out here in the middle of nowhere.
The brisk, icy air caused what was left of his teeth chattering. The sound of shuffling hooves made his eyebrows arch in surprise. Maybe the next driver, their identity still unknown, had arrived without making his presence known to him. He found that intolerable. Some muffled sound of horse bodies bumping against the walls of the barn made him attempt to move quicker. He wished for his stick to help him – and maybe his gun.
Being a man of action, he pushed the barn doors open, calling out in his gruff voice, to whoever was in the barn. “Make yourself known,” he repeated. Horses snorted in their stalls while he peaked in each one. He heard fainted whimpers in the last stall, his own horse, Sally, wasn’t in sight. He looked over the door and behind the brown body of Sally, a small child sat curled against the wall, his tear stained face looking imploringly at him.
“Now where did you come from, little man?” Elias opened the door, trying to soothe the tears. Pinned on his buttoned up jacket, a note with a message, but the print had become illegible. “Well, I can’t read that, but don’t you worry, son. Come on, you must be hungry.”
With a tiny nod, he got up from against the wall, the straw followed him. He crunched his way and took hold of the enormous hand with one of his and wiped his face with the other.
“I hope that bread tastes okay. I am expecting more provisions soon.”
The little boy hungrily ate and took a long drink of water. Elias let him eat while he added some logs to the fire. He kept silent while he devoured his food. “Guess you haven’t eaten in a while.”
“Do you have a name?” Elias asked him to which he nodded in the affirmative.
“Sam,” he replied.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sam. My name is Elias. I’m in charge of this station. I belong here. Why are you out here all by yourself?”
Sam finished his food, his legs vigorously going back and forth above the floor, kicking the wood brace beneath the seat. A small shaky voice explained his presence. “I am all alone,sir.”
“You have no kin,”
“No, sir,” he said, shaking his head, a piece of straw fell from his hair.
“Well, what should I do with you?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Just don’t send me back. They didn’t like me much.”
“Oh, well why is that?”
“They said I was a spitfire. What’s a spitfire?” Sam asked him. It made Elias laugh.
“A spitfire huh? Well, I don’t see a problem with that.”
Sam looked at the grey face and smiled, turned toward the fire dancing behind the glass door. “What are you doing out here, sir.”
“I am waiting for a rider. He should be here any time soon. They just started this line to deliver mail from one end of the country to the other. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Is it like a quest?” Sam asked.
“Kinda. Letters need to get from one place to another quickly.” Elias replied, and sat silently momentarily. “Now, son, I have to figure out what to do with ya, just not sure. I might need to send you back to the orphanage.”
“Oh, no, sir. Please don’t. They didn’t want me, I told ya, and I don’t want to be in no orphanage anymore.” Sam looked even smaller, his eyes pleading, glistening from tears forming. He obviously didn’t have a nice time there. Elias’ earliest memories were of the orphanage he suffered through; he hadn’t been too keen to send any child to experience that. The cramped quarter, listening to other kids crying during the night, the crack of the whip when someone misbehaved. Guilt and unconscious fear waved through Elias’ body.
“Well, Sam, I won’t do that.”
Elias’ ears picked up the distant sound of hooves. Someone was coming toward them. Must be the rider he thought, getting up from the table and heading out of the door.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Bill. Good to see you,” the rider quickly got off the horse.
“It’s good to see you too Elias. It’s been too long,” he replied.
“I’ve seen you in the paper,” he said while they went inside the out building used for riders when they needed a rest. It wasn’t much, nothing like the comforts of home, but there was a bed and some provisions for their return trip, if that was where they were going.
“The rider should be here soon,” Bill said.
Elias turned to leave, get some coffee brewed, and some food for him to take for the journey, when he remembered something. “I have a problem, Bill.”
Bill had laid down on the bed for a quick nap, “what is it?”
“I had a bit of a surprise waiting for me in the stables – someone who showed up unexpectedly.”
He had his hat laying over his eyes, the sun beat down through the dusty window onto his face. The statement made him remove the hat and cast a confused look at Elias.
“What do you mean someone? Another rider?”
“No, he had a note pinned to his jacket. His name is Sam and he looks to be about 5 or 6 years of age. An orphan that found his way to my stables. I don’t know what to do with him.”
“What did the note say?” Bill asked him with a sputter. Elias had always been a slow talker. His mind was quick, but his mouth never seemed to match the speed. He tended to find frustration amongst his fellow man.
“It used to say something, but all the print got smudged. Can’t read it at all, and the boy didn’t say,” Bill pushed past Elias in the doorway. In front of the fire, Sam had pulled up a chair closer and had been waiting for Elias’ return. The look of fear crossed his face when he saw another man come through the door, and scrambled toward the corner of the room. Bill did tower over most men and his long legs seemed to touch the ground even as he was on the back of his horse.
“Don’t worry Sam, it is only Bill, a rider on the Pony Express. He was just concerned over your welfare.”
Bill was trying to get a hold of Sam, but he managed to stay out of reach. “Where is the note?”
“It’s over here, on his jacket. I didn’t take it off,” Elias responded sharply. “Don’t scare the poor mite.”
Bill grabbed it, examining it at all angles, and handed it back to him. “Well, Elias, I guess he is your problem now.”
“I reckon so,” he put the jacket aside. He got busy with getting the provisions ready, and placed the coffee percolator on the fire. “We will have some coffee and wait. Hopefully, there won’t be too much delay.”
With the sound of another horse approaching, Bill ran out and toward the bunk house to grab his bag. What he had already will have to suffice until the next stop. There was a quick exchange. Bill had been told which horse to take and galloped off East.
“Hey, Jack. Nice to see you. Staying long?” Elias had come out of the warmth of his cabin.
“Naw. I need to get back, but I won’t leave till the morning.”
“Well, everything is in there for you. There’s wood for a fire along the back, help yourself,” he closed his door behind him. Sam had been watching through the window and retreated to behind the table when the door opened.
“Don’t worry, Jack isn’t much for socializing. He will be gone when he said he will, don’t you worry, son.”
Sam tentatively came out and found his spot on the chair in front of the fire. Elias sat down on the other side of the table and took out his pipe. “Would you like to hear about the origin of the Pony express, Sam?” Sam agreed, his blue eyes wide and waited for Elias to light his pipe.
“Well, not too long ago…” he started his story of the idea of the Pony Express.
The Pony Express, which connected the West and East, didn’t last long, but holds sway in American history. It began in April 1860 and ended in October 1861. It was a network of 156 stations from St. Joseph, MIssouri to Sacramento, California. Riders would ride horseback, mail in hand, for 75 – 100 miles, having to change horses every 10-15 miles, then hand over the mail to the next rider. It was thought to be the ideas of William H. Russel, John Scudder, or Frederick A. Bee. It was run by the Central Overland California and Pikes Peak Express Company.
It was started because of the Gold rush, the Mormon exodus to Utah, and the thousands of people immigrating down the Oregon Trail, there was an increased need for faster mail service. Hence the birth of the Pony Express. Before then the mail was delivered by stagecoach over land or by sea, having to go around South America. The railroad only reached the Mississippi and would connect the entire country was still years away. The telegraph was close to completion but not quite. It could take months for people who moved west to receive mail from their families and there was a demand to shorten the waiting time.
For the speed, everything needed to be as light as possible. The riders were not burly cowboys, but the size of jockeys – 100 – 125 pounds and average age of 20, but there were some that claimed to have been 11 years old when they joined the Pony Express. They carried a “mochilla”, a specially designed light knapsack with locks for the documents. The riders had to take a loyalty oath, use no vulgar language, no alcohol, and carry the bible with them on their rides. The rules were rarely followed to the letter, according to sources at the time. They were paid $100-150 per month, which was a nice salary at the time. The riders had to deal with harsh weather conditions and terrain, along with the threat of attack by bandits and Native Americans. The more dangerous job would be those whose job was at the relay stations. During the Pyramid Lake war, a few stations were burned and about 16 stock hands lost their lives. Only 6 Pony riders died on duty during operations.
William “Buffalo Bill” Cody claimed to have been a pony rider as a youth and made a single run of 384 miles, but there is no proof of his claims. There is evidence that he was still in school in Kansas during the time the Pony Express operated. No matter what, he kept the romance of the Pony Express alive in his vaudeville show, featuring riders and horse exchanges as a stunt display.
The whole operation of the Pony Express was a financial failure, never turning a profit in its 18 month existence. It was not for general mail, initially costing $5 (about $130) then lowered to just $1, but it was still too expensive for the average person to send mail via the Pony Express. They never got a government contract, most of the mail sent was business related and important news reports. When it ended, the company lost around $200,000. When the telegraph was finished, within two days, the Pony Express ended operation.
Sources:
History.com
https://www.history.com/news/10-things-you-may-not-know-about-the-pony-express
National Park Service
https://www.nps.gov/poex/learn/historyculture/index.htm#:~:text=In%20the%20era%20before%20electronic,the%20Rocky%20Mountains%20became%20obvious.
National Postal Museum
https://postalmuseum.si.edu/research/articles-from-enroute/the-story-of-the-pony-express.html
Thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the historical Pony Express. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
