"Steady, Bess," Frederick murmured to the high-spirited mare as he circled to her other side. He checked each hoof a final time, then adjusted the saddle blanket and cinched all the straps. Two full canteens swung from the pommel.

Bess perked her ears, swinging as far as reins would allow.

The faint sound of hoofbeats spattered the morning silence. A dot moved in the distance, coming down the trail from the western ridge, then sped across the sandy flats.

Frederick touched his hat. "Howdy, Joe," he greeted as the rider reined in then vaulted from the saddle. "Got a pot of stew inside, if you're hungry."

"No time. No respite for the weary." Joe swung his saddlebags from one mount to the other, fished out one small bundle and dropped it on the ground, and took the reins from Frederick. "Passed a troop of Paiutes heading thisaway. Looking mean as prairie wolves. Better bring in the stock and load your guns." He leaped to the saddle.

"How many?"

"Eight or nine," Joe called back as he spurred to a gallop into the blazing east.

Frederick picked up the paper-wrapped package. It was addressed to his assistant, Al, who was out tracking a team of straying mules. He tucked it under his arm and, deep in thought, led the exhausted gelding on a walk around the paddock to cool down.

Last week the Pony Express system broke down for three days when the Paiutes burned down several stations, slaughtered anyone who ran, and drove off all the horses. Frederick surveyed his own situation. The Ruby Valley Pony Express station wasn't a flimsy shack like many of the others. A sturdy log cabin roofed with turf, it wouldn't go up in flames so easily.

At its rear, a shed for the horses. As he led the gelding in, he gave the wide stable door a good kick. Yup, solid and strong. Frederick brushed the gelding down, then brought the remaining three horses in from the paddock and barricaded the door.

He squeezed out through a loose plank, then wedged it back in place. He hoped the mules had led Al a long search. This wasn't a good time for the boy to return.

In the station house, Frederick loaded his rifle and pistol.

They didn't feel right in his hands. He set them on a shelf by the door, then turned to the wood stove. Different ammunition was needed today.

At noon, the Paiutes rode down from the hills. They found beside the cabin a make-shift table built from barrels and planks. Ten bowls sat ready beside a caldron of stew, doubled since earlier with added water, shaved salt pork, and vegetables from the station garden. Frederick came out with a platter of flapjacks. "Welcome, friends!" he called in the Ute dialect.

The Paiutes sat their horses and stared. Two scouted the site, found no threat.

Rifles and bows lowered. The leader nodded. The troop dismounted and feasted, then remounted and, without a single word, headed for the hills.

Frederick sagged in relief. Life and livelihood preserved by a simple gesture of friendship.

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prompts: package, respite

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The Pony Express mail carrier system ran from April 1860 (with my great-great-grandfather manning the Ruby Valley station) until October, 1861 (when the new transcontinental telegraph line went live). Frederick earned $35 a month, worth about a thousand dollars today. Ruby Valley station was about 60 miles south of Elko, Nevada.

Some fact, some fiction: The Paiutes did disrupt the Pony Express in June 1860, further west of Ruby Valley. I don't know if they ever approached my ancestor's station, but the kind of response I describe was urged by leaders of his faith and resulted in peaceful co-habitation (for the most part) of his kind with the Native American population of the Great Basin, the Utes for which the state of Utah is named.

Congregations of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (refugees from religious persecution) had settled in the Great Salt Lake area thirteen years before the setting of this story. They thought this was isolated enough that they could live undisturbed.

By 1869 the transcontinental railroad was completed, and myriad passengers of all kinds and faiths crossed through the area. Some even elected to settle there. So much for isolation

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Back around 2000, I typed up Frederick's diary from a faded earlier printing. (By my grandfather's brother, I believe.) I broke it into segments and posted the whole work on my webpage. I've had to change and update the formatting twice since then! Here's the link to the Pony Express passages:

https://joyceholt.com/FWHurst/part19.html#ponyexpress

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https://nationalponyexpress.org/historic-pony-express-trail/stations/

"Pony stations were generally located between 5 to 20 miles apart. The terrain and its effect on horse travel determined the number and the distance between stations. ... Building materials generally consisted of sod on the plains, timber in the forested areas, stone or adobe on the deserts or dugouts carved in a hillside and roofed with freighted-in timber. ... This arrangement allowed the mail to speed across the country in record time. Each rider rode about 75-100 miles per shift, changing horses 5-8 times or so. Two minutes was allotted for horse and mochila [saddlebag] exchanges at each station. ... The Pony Express Riders were brave and to be admired. However, their success would have been impossible without the station keepers and stock tenders. Theirs was not an easy life. It was isolated, primitive and dangerous. They were truly unsung heroes. Stations were attacked and the horses stolen, the stations burned and keepers killed, especially during the Pauite Indian War starting in May 1860. Russell, Majors and Waddell actually suspended delivery between Carson City and Salt Lake City for about a month in June 1860."

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Ruby Valley Pony Express Station

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruby_Valley_Pony_Express_Station

"The building was used as Pony Express stop during April 1860 to October 1861, and before and after that was used as a stagecoach stop. ... It is an 11-by-18-foot (3.4 m × 5.5 m) log building with a stone fireplace; sod originally covered its roof."