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Test bank for Database Processing:
Fundamentals, Design, and Implementation,
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Database Processing, 13e (Kroenke/Auer)
Chapter 1: Introduction

1) The purpose of a database is to help people keep track of things.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 3

2) In a database, each table stores data about a different type of thing.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 3

3) In a database, each row in a spreadsheet has data about a particular

instance.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 3

4) In every database, not just the databases discussed in this book, table names
are capitalized.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 3

5) A database shows data in tables and the relationships among the rows in
those tables.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 4

6) Data is recorded facts and figures; information is knowledge derived from

data.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 5

7) Databases record data in such a way that they can produce information.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 6

8) Enterprise Resource Planning (ERP) is an example of a data mining

application.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 6-7
9) Databases are a key component of e-commerce order entry, billing, shipping
and customer support.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 7

10) The largest databases in e-commerce are the order entry databases.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 7

11) The e-commerce companies use Web activity databases to determine

which items on a Web page are popular and successful.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 7
12) Small databases typically have simple structures.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 8

13) A database system is typically defined as its four components: users,

database applications, the DBMS and the databases.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 8

14) A database system as typically defined can be modified to include

CODASYL.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 8

15) Applications are computer programs used directly by users.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 9

16) In a database system, applications write data to the database.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 9

17) Sequenced Query Language (SQL) is an internationally recognized standard

language that is understood by all commercial database management system
products.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 8
18) In database systems, indexes are held by the database.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 8-13 Fig 1-14

19) A database management system (DBMS) creates, processes and

administers databases.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 11

20) The database management system (DBMS) is responsible for inserting,

modifying, reading, and deleting data.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 11

21) The database application is responsible for concurrency control.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 12

22) The database management system (DBMS) is responsible for enforcing

referential integrity constraints.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 12
23) Referential integrity constraints are rules about what data values are
allowed in certain columns.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 12

24) A database is a self-describing collection of non-integrated tables.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 12

25) Integrated tables store both data and the relationships among the data.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 12

26) Microsoft Access is just a DBMS.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 14
27) Microsoft Access is a low-end product intended for individuals and small
workgroups.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 14

28) The current DBMS engine in Microsoft Access is called ADE.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 14

29) In Microsoft Access, you can use the Oracle DBMS in place of the ADE
DBMS.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15

30) In an Enterprise-class database system, a database application interacts

with the DBMS.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15 Fig 1-16

31) In an Enterprise-class database system, a database application accesses the

database data.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15 Fig 1-16

32) In an Enterprise-class database system, business users interact directly

with the DBMS, which directly accesses the database data.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15 Fig 1-16

33) All database applications get and put database data by sending SQL
statements to the DBMS.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 8

34) The DBMS ranked as having the “most power and features” in the text is
IBM’s DB2.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 16 Fig 1-17
35) The DBMS ranked as being the “most difficult to use” in the text is Oracle
Corporation’s Oracle Database.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 16 Fig 1-17

36) The DBMS ranked as being the “easiest to use” in the text is Microsoft’s
SQL Server.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 16 Fig 1-17

37) The DBMS ranked as having the “least power and features” in the text is
Microsoft Access.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 16 Fig 1-17

38) A database is called “self-describing” because it reduces data duplication.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 12

39) The description of a database’s structure that is stored within the database
itself is called the “metadata.”
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 12 Fig 1-14

40) In a database processing system, indexes are held by the database

management system (DBMS).
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 13 Fig 1-12

41) Database design is important, and fortunately it is simple to do.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 17

42) A database design may be part of a new systems development project.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 17-19 Fig 1-18

43) A database design is rarely a redesign of an existing database.

Answer: FALSE
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 17-19 Fig 1-18
44) Information systems that stored groups of records in separate files were
called file processing systems.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 21-23 Fig 1-25

45) Data Language/I (DL/I) structured data relationships as a tree structure.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 21 Fig 1-25

46) The CODASYL DBTG mode structured data relationships as a tree

structure.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 23 Fig 1-25
47) The relational model was first proposed in 1970 by E. F. Codd at IBM.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 23

48) The 1977 edition of this text contained a chapter on the relational model,
and that chapter was reviewed by E. F. Codd.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 23

49) dBase was the first PC-based DBMS to implement true relational algebra
on a PC.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 24

50) Paradox is the only major survivor of the “bloodbath of PC DBMS

products.”
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 24

51) Business organizations have resisted adopting object-oriented database

systems because the cost of purchasing OODBMS packages is prohibitively
high.
Answer: FALSE
Diff: 3 Page Ref: 24
52) Bill Gates has said that “XML is the lingua-franca of the Internet Age.”
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 25

53) XML Web services allow database processing to be shared across the
Internet.
Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 25

54) The NoSQL movement should really be called a NoRelational movement.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 24

55) Twitter and Facebook use NoSQL databases.

Answer: TRUE
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 25

56) The purpose of a database is to:

A) help people keep track of things.
B) store data in tables.
C) create tables of rows and columns.
D) maintain data on different things in different tables.
E) All of the above.
Answer: A
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 3
57) A database stores:
A) data.
B) relationships.
C) metadata.
D) A and B
E) A, B, and C
Answer: E
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 3-4 and 12

58) A database records:

A) facts.
B) figures.
C) information.
D) A and B
E) A, B, and C
Answer: D
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 3

59) A sales contact manager used by a salesperson is an example of a(n)

________.
A) single-user database application
B) multiuser database application
C) e-commerce database application
D) A or B
E) Any of A, B, or C
Answer: A
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 8 and Fig 1-5

60) A Customer Resource Management (CRM) system is an example of a(n)

________.
A) single-user database application
B) multiuser database application
C) e-commerce database application
D) A or B
E) Any of A, B, or C
Answer: B
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 8 and Fig 1-5

61) An online drugstore such as Drugstore.com is an example of a(n) ________.

A) single-user database application
B) multiuser database application
C) e-commerce database application
D) A or B
E) Any of A, B, or C
Answer: C
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 7 Fig 1-5
62) The industry standard supported by all major DBMSs that allows tables to
be joined together is called ________.
A) Sequential Query Language (SQL)
B) Structured Question Language (SQL)
C) Structured Query Language (SQL)
D) Relational Question Language (RQL)
E) Relational Query Language (RQL)
Answer: C
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 8
63) A program whose job is to create, process and administer databases is
called a ________.
A) Database Modeling System
B) Database Management System
C) Data Business Model System
D) Relational Model Manager
E) Data Business Management Service
Answer: B
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 8

64) Microsoft Access includes:

A) a DBMS.
B) an application generator.
C) a Web server.
D) A and B
E) A, B, and C
Answer: D
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 14 Fig 1-15

65) Microsoft Access may use which of the following DBMS engines?
A) ADE
B) SQL Server
C) Oracle
D) A and B
E) A, B, and C
Answer: D
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 14

66) Which of the following are basic components of an enterprise-class

database system?
A) The user
B) The database application
C) The database management system (DBMS)
D) The database
E) All of the above
Answer: E
Diff: 1 Page Ref: 15-16 Fig 1-16
67) In an enterprise-class database system, ________.
A) the database application(s) interact(s) with the DBMS
B) the database application(s) access(es) the database data
C) the DBMS accesses the database data
D) A and B
E) A and C
Answer: E
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15-16 Fig 1-16

68) In an enterprise-class database system, the database application ________.

A) creates queries
B) creates forms
C) creates reports
D) A and B
E) B and C
Answer: E
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15-16 Fig 1-16

69) In an enterprise-class database system, reports are created by ________.

A) the user
B) the database application
C) the database management system (DBMS)
D) the database
E) All of the above
Answer: B
Diff: 2 Page Ref: 15-16 Fig 1-16
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 CHAPTER XVI
CAUSE AND EFFECT

A lden was convinced from a study of the signal smoke that it was
gradually fading, as if the fire which caused it was not
replenished. What this signified, as well as the meaning of the
display itself, was beyond him.
When the interval between him and the danger point had
dwindled to an eighth of a mile, Dick did an almost incredible thing.
Until then he had shown no sign of seeing the warning. Suddenly he
stopped, raised his head, thrust his ears forward and looked steadily
at the thin column of vapor for several minutes. The reins lay on his
neck and the rider did not touch them.
The animal wheeled abruptly to the right and broke into a gallop.
His action showed that he read the signal smoke aright. Indians
were there and he must avoid them.
“I shall not interfere again with you,” said Alden admiringly; “you
know a hundred times more than I do of these matters.”
None the less, our young friend was uneasy. With all the pony’s
sagacity, it would not have been strange if he was outwitted. The
dusky enemies must have believed it was an experienced Express
Rider who was coming from the east, and it would seem likely to
them that he would direct his pony as the animal was now directing
himself. If so, the precaution could hardly be of avail.
The ground rapidly changed in character. Before Alden looked for
it the incline increased, and he was riding among boulders, rocks
and dwarfed pines. He felt a coolness too in the air, though the ridge
did not rise anywhere near to the snow line. Looking down at the
ground he saw no signs of others having passed the way before him.
He was the pioneer in that dismal solitude.
 He was glad when the pony of his own accord dropped from the
gallop to his rapid, graceful walk. It was impossible for him to
progress in a straight line, and he was forever turning to the right or
left, rarely following a direct course for more than a few rods.
Alden could not help smiling when it looked for a moment as if
Dick had suddenly reached the end of his rope. He came opposite a
mass of rocks, amid which the twisted pines pushed out in all
directions, though ever striving to reach the vertical with their tops
pointed toward the zenith. To the right and left, the flinty boundary
extended beyond sight.
Without hesitation Dick turned to the left and walked briskly for a
dozen rods. The barrier still interposed. He stopped, wheeled about
and retraced his steps. He was searching for an opening or small
pass, and was not satisfied to approach any closer to the Indian
signal.
Within less than the distance named, to the right of his first turn,
he found that for which he was looking. A gap showed and he
entered it as if it were a stable door that had been opened for him.
“What’s the use of placing a rider on your back, Dick?” asked the
delighted Alden. “Better to give you the mail pouch and tell you to
deliver it at the next station. But then mighty few ponies know as
much as you.”
How far this path led remained to be seen. But it had not been
followed far when Alden met an experience that was as unique as
unexpected. The appearance of the gorge suggested that a torrent
of water poured through it, when the snows melted or the floods
descended. Its width varied from fifty feet to two or three times that
extent, and the irregular walls rose on each side almost as many
feet. If the course lasted, it could not be more favorable.
The bottom of this peculiar ravine was broken at intervals by
stones, and then only pebbles showed. It would have been easy for
Dick to dash through on the gallop which seemed to be his natural
gait, for it was comparatively level, but he chose of his own accord
to walk. He was traveling round instead of crossing lots, as he had
been accustomed to do, and the incident promised to prove another
illustration of the proverb.
And then came the surprise. Dick had turned one of the many
corners, his head dipping with each vigorous step, when he flung up
his nose and snorted. The alert Alden in the same instant saw an
Indian warrior coming toward him.
The redskin was a duplicate of the one who had launched an
arrow at the youth several miles back. He had the same squat,
sturdy figure, the coarse black hair dangling about his bare
shoulders, and growing low upon his forehead, the naked chest, the
frowsy hunting shirt of deerskin, with leggings and dilapidated
moccasins. He carried a knife in the girdle about his waist, and his
right hand grasped a heavy bow as long as himself. Behind his left
shoulder the feathered tips of a number of arrows showed where he
carried his quiver.
Neither the countenance nor chest displayed any of the paint of
which the American Indians are fond. It may be doubted whether
the vari-colored daubs would have added to the hideousness of that
face, which was broad with protuberant cheek bones, an immense
mouth, low forehead and piercing black eyes.
Never was a meeting between two persons more unexpected by
both. The Indian emitted a startled “hooh!” and stopped short, as if
transfixed. As late as the days to which I am referring hundreds of
the western red men used the bow and arrow instead of the rifle.
This was generally due to the difficulty of obtaining the modern
weapon, but in many instances it was choice on their part. It may be
questioned whether in the majority of cases, one was not as
effective as the other.
The particular red man in whom we are now interested had a
formidable bow at command, and no doubt was an expert in its use,
but before discharging an arrow, he must snatch it from behind his
shoulder, fit it to the string and aim. Ere he could do all this the
white youth could bore him through a dozen times had he possessed
that number of guns. He had one which in the circumstances was as
good as the larger number.
Dick at sight of the redskin had also stopped. Thus he and the
savage faced each other as if the two were carved in stone. Alden
was quickwitted enough to bring his rifle to his shoulder and aim
between the ears of his pony. There was no mistake about it: he had
“the drop” on the other fellow.
And that other fellow knew it. He had been trained never to give
or ask quarter, and he did not ask for it now. Instead, he whirled
about and dashed off in a wild headlong flight. There was something
grotesquely comical in his performance, for instead of running in a
straight line, he leaped from side to side, stooped, dodged, and then
straightened up for a few seconds, during which his speed was
amazing. He did not utter a sound, but no miserable wretch ever
strove more desperately to escape the doom which he expected with
every breath he drew.
Alden read the meaning of the odd actions. It was intended to
distract his aim. Few Indians are fools enough to resort to the trick,
but the Digger tribe sometimes do so.
When the warrior made off, Dick with a faint snort did the same.
He was in pursuit, and since no man ever lived who could outrun a
good horse, little chance was left for the fugitive.
Alden could have brought him down within the same moment that
he stopped. Most men in his situation would have done so, but the
whole thing was abhorrent to the youth. Only in self-defense would
he shoot a human being, as he had proved weeks before.
“I don’t want your life; if you will get out of my path I won’t hurt
you,” was the thought of Alden, who lowered his gun, but held it
ready to use on the instant it might become necessary. He feared
that because the shot was delayed, the Indian would turn and try to
use his bow. In that event, the youth would fire to kill.
 He held himself ready to anticipate hostile action. He was so close
to the fleeing warrior and the air was so clear, that every trifle about
the fugitive was noticed. He observed that the sole of his right
moccasin was partly gone and flapped as he ran. Most of the ragged
fringe at the bottom of his shirt had been torn off, but a piece kept
fluttering about and hitting against his hip. The red men of the West
generally wore different clothing from the one described, but the
fugitive suggested a descent from those of his race who lived east of
the Alleghanies.
Alden noted the play of the muscles between the shoulders, where
they were not hidden by the bouncing quiver. The American Indian
as a rule is deficient in muscular development, but this one showed
several moderate ridges that doubled and shifted in response to the
rhythmic swinging of his arms. Each was bent at the elbow with the
hand close to the chest, like a professional runner, but the right hand
was empty, while the fingers of the left were closed about the huge
bow which he was obliged to hold diagonally before him, to prevent
its interference with his running. The tousled head was pushed
forward, and at intervals the redskin looked back. The glare of his
black eyes through the meshes of flying hair suggested an owl
peering from behind a thicket.
Those backward glances were only for an instant but were
continually repeated. The swarthy face showed the terror of the
fugitive, who must have wondered why the fatal shot was delayed.
Perhaps he thought his pursuer meant to make him prisoner—a fate
dreaded as much as death itself.
The Indian ceased his side leaps and ducking, and gave the last
ounce of his strength to flight. He was running extraordinarily fast,
but you do not need to be told that he steadily lost ground before
the rushing pony. It was impossible for the man to get away by
means of direct flight.
Meanwhile, queer thoughts must have bothered Dick. He had
brought his new master within easy striking distance of his enemy
and he did nothing. Why did he not shoot and close the incident?
Why did he wait till the brief space was lessened still more?
The watchful Alden suddenly saw the right hand of the fugitive
dart over to the left shoulder, where the fingers fiddled for a
moment. Then they snapped out an arrow from the quiver and the
missile vanished, as it was brought round in front of his chest. Since
the white man held his fire, the red one meant to use his own
weapon.
At the instant the Indian began fitting the shaft to the string while
still running, Alden shouted at the top of his voice. It was a warning
which was understood and went through the fugitive like an electric
shock. He bounded several feet in air, and dropped the arrow to the
ground, but he did not lessen the haste with which he was speeding
in order to pick it up.
All this occupied but a few brief minutes. The disgusted Dick had
carried his rider to within ten feet of the fugitive and now eased his
pace. The respective speed of each was the same. The pony had
done his part and refused to do more.
Alden Payne decided upon his course at the beginning of the race.
He would maintain the pursuit, allowing the Indian to hold his place
a little in advance until the end of the gorge was reached and the
wretch had the chance to dart aside. This, however, was not the end
of the most peculiar occurrence.
In his panic the redskin attempted the impossible. Fancying the
pony was upon his heels, and his rider about to reach over and seize
or strike him, he made a turn to the right, leaped high in air and
grasped the end of a projecting ledge of stone. Then with the same
fierce haste as before, he strove to draw himself over the edge to
the narrow support above. He succeeded, for the task was not
difficult, but there was not enough space to hide any portion of his
body. He had room barely to stand, and Alden could have picked him
off as readily as when he was fleeing before him. The poor wretch
shrank as close as he could against the wall and cowered and glared
and awaited the bullet.
And Alden Payne, instead of harming him waved his hand and
shouted:
“Good-by, old fellow! Give my love to your folks.”
It was a strange piece of jocularity, but the genial hearted youth
doubted whether it would be appreciated. Having gone by the
warrior he left him in the best possible position to discharge one of
his missiles, and according to the general rule, that is what he would
have done.
Much has been said and written about the gratitude of the
American Indian. That he sometimes displays that virtue cannot be
denied, but among the wild tribes of the plains, or Southwest, the
rule is the other way. I have referred to this elsewhere. The first
person an Apache strives to kill when the chance offers is he who
has given him bread and drink. He is as quick to bite the hand that
has fed his hunger as a rattlesnake is to strike the foot that crushes
him.
It is a pleasure therefore to tell the truth regarding the Indian
(whose tribe Alden Payne never learned) that had been spared by
the amateur Pony Express Rider. He might have made it bad for the
youth who was riding from him, and who as a consequence could
not keep an eye upon his every movement. When Alden looked back
as he did several times, he saw the warrior still on his perch, and
watching him, but the huge bow in his hand was not raised nor was
another arrow drawn to the head, while the horseman was within
reach of the primitive weapon.
This strange situation could last only a brief time. The speed of
Dick rapidly carried him and his rider beyond reach of any bow and
arrow ever devised. The gorge remained comparatively straight for
quite a way, and the mutual view lasted longer than would have
been the case either earlier or later.
 Alden was not yet out of sight of the Indian when he emitted a
series of tremulous whoops, the like of which the rider had never
before heard on his journey across the plains. The first sound was
an explosive shout, and the half dozen which succeeded trailed off
into silence. The redskin made this strange outcry three times and
then ceased.
“I suppose he means that as a reply to my salute,” laughed Alden,
who the next minute whisked beyond view around a turn in the
gorge. “If I knew how to reply I should do so, but we’ll have to wait
till next time.”
Dick showed no disposition to slacken his pace and his rider did
not restrain him. Just after making the turn referred to Alden turned
his head. What led him to do so he could not explain since he knew
he was clear of the warrior whom he had nearly scared out of his
wits, but he saw an amazing sight. The varying character of the
gorge showed a projecting mass of stone on the right near the top.
It was at a wide part of the ravine, and the peculiar shape of the
rocks left a partial cavity behind the jutting portion large enough to
hold several persons.
And in this depression three Indians, looking much like the one he
had left out of sight, had evidently just risen from the ground and
stood motionless as if watching him as he skurried from them. They
must have been there when he rode beneath within fifty feet of
where they were lying in ambush.
Alden was dumfounded. What could it all mean? After watching
and probably signaling they had waited till he rode right into the trap
and then had allowed him to ride out again, unharmed and all
unsuspicious of his peril.
“That is too much for me,” mused the perplexed youth; “I spared
one of them when I had him dead to rights, but why should those
three spare me? That isn’t the way—”
Could those odd sounding signals which the single warrior sent
forward from his perch on the rocks have had anything to do with it?
Did they cause the forbearance of his comrades farther up the
gorge? That such should be the case seemed incredible, but days
afterward Alden submitted the question to Shagbark. The veteran
stroked his whiskers, puffed his pipe for a minute, and then squinted
one eye.
“Thar’s only one way to explanify it,” he answered; “the varmint
whose scalp ye left on top of his head was so thankful that he
signaled ahead to the other three varmints not to hurt ye, ’cause ye
and him war friends.
“I’ll own that that ain’t the gin’ral style of the critters, but
sometimes they act jest as if they war white men, and better than
some white men I’ve met.”
 CHAPTER XVII
AT THE STATION

D ick the pony held his swift gallop for a half mile farther, when he
debouched into an open country, similar in many respects to
that which he had left behind him. While it could not be called level,
it showed no steep inclines and the masses of rocks and heaps of
boulders were readily flanked by the superb courser.
The plucky animal let himself out immediately and the admiring
Alden still allowed the reins to lie on his neck.
“You need no orders from me, old fellow,” said he; “when the
history of the Pony Express is written, more credit should be given to
you and your comrades than to some of the men who sat in the
saddles.”
The ridge which caused Alden anxiety had been crossed, and now
when he looked back he traced the outlines of the vague column of
smoke that was slow in dissolving in the summer air. Surely nothing
more was to be feared from that source. No matter how well
mounted a party of Indians might be, none could overhaul the
peerless Dick, whose graceful legs were again doubling under him
with marvelous rapidity and carrying him and his burden as an eagle
bears its eaglet on its broad back.
“Now, if I should have a flat sail on my right and left like a kite,”
mused Alden, giving rein to his whimsical fancy, “this speed would
lift us clear and we should skim through the air like a swallow. We
should have to come down now and then, when the hoofs would
give us another flip upward and away we should go. I’ll make the
suggestion when I get the chance.”
Suddenly he caught sight of a buck coursing in front. Where he
came from he could not guess. Dick must have headed for him
without either being aware of the fact, until the horse was almost
upon the creature.
The latter kept up his wild flight for several hundred yards when
he was terrified to find that man and horse were gaining upon him.
Then the buck showed a gleam of sense by bolting to the right. He
made astonishing bounds and skimmed with arrowy speed, but it
was less than that of his pursuer. Was there any creature of the
plains which could surpass the half-bred mustang? No.
Alden wondered whether the pony would change his course and
press the pursuit of the game, as almost any one of his species
would have done in similar circumstances. But Dick did not vary a
hair until he confronted another pile of rocks. Instead of flanking
them on the same side with the buck, he whisked in the other
direction. What was a whole herd of deer to him? He carried the
United States mail and everything must give way to that.
From the moment that Alden saw the buck bounding in front of
him, he could have brought him down without checking the pony.
But he did not raise his rifle. To have fired would have been as
wanton an act as the slaughter of the hundreds of thousands of
buffaloes during the few years that followed.
He was convinced that Dick was again going at the rate of twenty-
five miles an hour. He would not have been surprised had the speed
been even greater. That, however, was hardly possible. Again the
still air rose to a gale and the velvety thumping of the delicate hoops
was bewildering in its swiftness. He sat firmly in the saddle, leaning
slightly forward and now and then jerking down his hat which was in
danger of being whisked off by the wind.
“What’s the use, Dick?” asked Alden. “Why not take things easier?
But to do that would be to rob you of your enjoyment. Helloa!
there’s something new!”
He was coursing over the undulating ground, when his gaze
rested on a building half a mile away and in the line of Dick’s run. It
was a low, flat structure of logs, such as is often seen on the
frontier. At the rear was a covered inclosure and from the rough,
stone chimney, built at one end on the outside of the main building,
rose a spiral of smoke—proof that the cabin had occupants.
“It’s the station!” exclaimed the rider the next moment. He
observed three men standing in front, with a saddled horse near
them. Evidently they were watching his approach.
It was the rule among Pony Express Riders that upon arriving
within a half mile of a station, they should proclaim the fact by
giving the “coyote yell.” This was notice to their friends to have a
fresh horse ready, for it must be borne in mind that the minutes
were precious. As the panting animal dashed up, his rider sprang
from the saddle before he had fairly halted and ready hands helped
secure it to the back of the waiting horse. The messenger leaped like
an acrobat into place, caught up the reins, touched with his spurs
the flanks of the animal, which instantly responded with a bound,
and was off on a headlong run.
Often the rider snatched up the lunch that was waiting him, and
ate while his horse was going at top speed. He shouted back to his
cheering friends, with whom he had exchanged a few hurried words
and the next minute was beyond hearing.
Such was the rule while the rider was making his run. Generally
the stations were twelve or fifteen miles apart, and the ride of a one
man was thirty or forty miles. This compelled two changes such as
described, after starting on his furious race. At the end of his “stunt,”
the new man, freshly mounted was awaiting him. The pause after
the arrival of the courier was just long enough for the saddle and
mail pouches to be transferred, when the relief sped away for the
next station, and if all went well, completed his task in schedule
time.
The stations as has been stated were scattered over a line nearly
two thousand miles long, through the wildest and most dangerous
section of our continent. This distance had to be covered in eight
days, which was an average of two hundred and fifty miles a day,
the like of which had never been known before and probably will
never be known again. We recall that the number of these stations
between Sacramento and St. Joseph, Missouri, was a hundred and
ninety. No regular intervals, however, could be established, for a
great deal depended upon the physical nature of the country. From
what has been already said, it will be understood that a horseman
often had to do double duty because of some accident to his partner.
Thus more than one Express Rider covered two and in a few
instances three hundred miles never leaving the saddle except for a
minute or two when changing horses. While the system was
wonderful in its completeness, many breaks were inevitable.
The three men who were standing in front of the squat cabin were
Tom Harper, Tim Jenkins, and Gideon Altman. A brother of the last
named was absent hunting game for the larder of the establishment.
The first named—Harper—was wiry and slight of frame, while the
other two were of ordinary stature. Harper was a rider, but the
weight of his comrades shut them out, except in case of necessity.
Dick Lightfoot who had reached his “last station” a dozen miles to
the eastward, was due at the present place in time to meet his
brother, whom Alden encountered at the time of his flurry with the
bear. The men at the station knew that some accident must have
befallen Dick and were therefore on the watch, when they descried a
stranger coming toward them on the pony which they recognized as
belonging to the missing rider.
Dick was in a lather and his sides heaved. Alden did not dismount
but looked down in the faces of the group who scrutinized him
keenly. Tim Jenkins, massive and heavily bearded, acted as speaker
for his comrades.
“Who are you?” he demanded of Alden, who gave his name.
“Where’s Dick Lightfoot?”
“He was killed by Indians eight or ten miles back.”
“How do you come to be mounted on his pony?”
 There was an aggressiveness in the tone and manner of Jenkins,
but Alden ignored it. The circumstances warranted suspicion. So he
told his story as succinctly as he could. The three listened closely,
and must have felt the truth of the words of the youth whose looks
and personality pleased them.
“You’ve got grit, young man,” commented Jenkins; “did you have
any idea of the risks you had to run?”
“I saw Alexander Carlyle the first rider start from St. Joe last April,
and on our way across the plains I have exchanged a few words
with others. I knew it wasn’t any child’s play.”
“You’re right—it isn’t. Poor Dick! it will be a sad blow to his brother
Sam. I suppose your friends will look after the body when they come
up to it?”
“There’s no doubt of that; I sent word to Shagbark, our guide,
who would do it without any such request from me.”
“Shagbark, eh? So he’s your guide; well, there isn’t a better one in
the West than he; that’s what Kit Carson has said many a time and
he knows. See here, my young friend, what’s the use of your staying
in that saddle? Your pony doesn’t go any farther.”
“But I should like to do so.”
“Tom Harper is here to take the place of any chap that gets
knocked out.”
“Why not let me complete the run?”
The three men looked in one another’s faces and smiled
significantly.
“Do you really want to try it?”
“Nothing can suit me better.”
“You have never been over the route.”
“I have never been over the run just finished; I left everything to
the pony and he did not go astray.”
 Alden did not think it worth while to tell of his adventure in the
gorge while coming through the ridge.
“You’re correct as to the ponies; all of them have been over the
road long enough to become familiar with it. What do you say,
Tom?” asked Jenkins, turning to the relief rider.
“Well, I ain’t partic’lar,” replied the wiry fellow, who despite his
youthful looks, was a veteran of the plains; “I expected to ride, if
anything happened to Dick, but this young chap seems to have set
his heart on it and I don’t want to spoil his fun.”
Alden’s eyes sparkled. Having begun the run, almost from the
beginning, he was ambitious to complete it.
“Then it’s settled,” said he, dropping from the saddle, and stepping
across to the waiting animal.
“Hold on a minute,” interposed Jenkins; “being as you ain’t a
reg’lar you needn’t be as strict as they have to be.”
“What do you mean?” asked the puzzled Alden fearing that he was
to be subjected to some vexatious handicap.
“It’s a good fifteen miles to the next station and most of the way
is so rough that your horse will have to walk; there are a few
stretches where you can let him out, but, for all that, you won’t
reach the station till well into the night.”
“What of that?”
“You need rest.”
“I’m not tired,” persisted Alden, afraid that the men would change
their minds.
“That may be, for you haven’t had much of a ride yet, but it is
nearly dark; you must eat supper with us.”
“You are kind, but have we time? The mail is already late.”
Jenkins threw back his head and laughed. His mirth was so
unrestrained that his comrades and even Alden smiled in sympathy.
 “If you want a job I’ll recommend you to Colonel Majors. I saw
from the way you rode when you came in sight that you understand
the business.”
“How much are we behind the schedule?”
Jenkins drew out a big silver watch whose ticking could be heard
by all. He squinted one eye and studied the figures.
“A little more than an hour: it’s no hanging matter if you make it
two or three hours more.”
The action of the man reminded Alden that he had the watch and
papers of Dick Lightfoot in his possession. He took them out and
explaining the matter, handed them to Jenkins.
Had the youth been given his choice, he would have resumed his
ride without another minute’s delay, but to refuse the invitation
might offend. Moreover, he was hungry.
“Your advice is good and I am thankful to eat with you.”
Four men made their quarters at this lonely cabin. One of them
was an extra rider for emergencies, while all, as has been said, could
perform the duty if required. Such supplies as they needed were
sent to them by their employers. Russell, Majors & Waddell were the
proprietors, who made their headquarters in the east, while Bolivar
Roberts was superintendent of the western division. In Carson City,
Nevada, he engaged the fifty or sixty riders needed, and he and the
firm looked carefully after their employees.
Since nearly all the stations were in the midst of superb hunting
grounds, the men at the remote posts obtained a large part of their
food by means of their guns. It was a pleasant variation of the
monotony, and the spice of danger from prowling redskins gave zest
to their enjoyment.
Dick having been unsaddled was turned out to graze with three
others. In the inclosure at the rear of the cabin, these were gathered
at night or during stormy weather, and one or two were always in
readiness for the regular riders. The horse which Alden was to ride
for the next station was allowed to wait, saddled and bridled, and
ready to start the moment called upon.
Alden followed his friend into the cabin, with Harper and Altman at
his heels. Leaning his rifle against the logs by the door, he glanced
around.
The dwelling could not have been of simpler structure. The single
room was some twenty feet square. At one end was an old
fashioned fireplace, in the middle of which stood a small cooking
stove, a single joint of pipe pushing up into the chimney. A few
simple utensils hung around on spikes, and a goodly pile of wood
was always at hand. A barrel of flour, a big can of coffee, another of
sugar and smaller boxes of spices and condiments were disposed of
with more regard for convenience than appearance. At one side of
the room were four bunks, with blankets and several buffalo robes.
There were a bench, a table made of planks, four stools and clothing
hanging on nails driven into the logs. The only picture on the walls
was a woodcut from a newspaper, showing the homely features of
Abraham Lincoln who had been nominated a short time before by
the newly-born Republican party, for the presidency of the United
States.
Although the weather now was balmy, there were times when it
raged like a hurricane from the Arctic regions. Therefore the logs
were thick and the crevices between them filled with clay. The heavy
planking on the floor was wedged closely with a view of shutting off
uncomfortable drafts.
Only one door was sawed in front. It was made of massive
planking and swung on big iron hinges. All round the four sides were
windows, none of which had panes. They were too narrow for the
slimmest man that ever lived to squeeze through. When the storms
beat against one side of the cabin, the openings there were closed
by means of small, wooden shutters, turning on hinges of leather.
In the event of Indian attack—which impended at almost any hour
of the day or night—these loopholes were useful to the defenders. At
other times, they helped in the way of ventilation and the lighting of
the apartment.
The meal was ready when Alden Payne was waved by Jenkins to
one of the stools at the side of the table, which consisted of three
unplaned boards. A huge roast of venison, done to a turn, and
resting on a big tin platter was the main dish. There were thick
slices, too, of well-baked bread, though nothing in the way of butter
or vegetables. But Jenkins filled each large cup from the capacious
pot simmering on the stove, and the fragrant odor was delightful to
the keen appetites. Condensed milk answered well for the real
article, and few meals were more palatable than that eaten by Alden
at this mail station in the wilds of the West. Right glad was he that
his host had insisted upon his tarrying for that purpose. Nothing
could have braced him better for the task before him.
 CHAPTER XVIII
OUTWITTED

A lthough the meal lasted but a few minutes, much was said.
Harper and Altman developed a talkative streak and had much to
tell their guest. The three had been located at the station for more
than two months during a portion of which time “business was
lively.” Only a fortnight before, the cabin underwent a siege for three
days and nights from a large party of Piutes, who peppered the logs
well. They ran off a couple of ponies, but Harper and Jenkins
recovered both after a long pursuit.
The redskins circled about the structure and fired through the
windows, but did not harm any of the defenders, who picked off two
or three of them. Things might have turned out ill had not one of the
Express Riders carried the news to the nearest fort which hurried a
squad of cavalry to the spot.
There had been no trouble with the Indians since, though parties
now and then appeared in the distance as if reconnoitering. It was
not to be expected that they would remain tranquil much longer.
“What kind of a route is it to the next station?” asked Alden, when
the party had gone outside and he had mounted.
“Pretty much like what you’ve ridden over. Some stretches of good
ground, with plenty of ravines and gullies and two or three streams
to cross, but you couldn’t have a better season.”
“The pony seems to be a good one; I shall be satisfied if he is the
equal of Dick.”
“He’s tough and fast; I think he once belonged to a circus, for he
knows a good many tricks.”
 “If he knows the trick of getting me through, neither I nor any one
else could ask anything more of him.”
Alden was about to start when he recalled the matter of the
cartridges. He gave his belt to Jenkins and accepted one from him.
It might seem a trifling thing that he should leave the heavier one
behind for the sake of the saving in weight, but such was the fact,
though the difference was slight. He could secure all the other
cartridges he might need from his friends.
“I must weigh twenty pounds more than Dick Lightfoot and
everything counts. What is the pony’s name?”
“Bucephalus,” was the amazing reply.
“Great Cæsar!” laughed Alden; “do you call him that?”
“’Ceph for short; well, good bye!”
Alden waved his hand and was off like a thunderbolt.
Our young friend was hardly out of sight of the little group who
stood watching him, when ’Ceph became playful. He had been
resting so long that he yearned for exercise and action. As an
introduction he reached around and nipped at the rider’s ankle. A
horse is quick to learn what kind of man holds the reins, and woe to
him whom the equine despises! Bucephalus would not have needed
any enlightenment had Harper or any one of the regular riders been
in the saddle, but he wasn’t sure about the lusty young fellow who
was trying to lord it over him.
When the head came about, and Alden saw what the pony meant,
he gave him a vigorous kick on the end of his nose. ’Ceph wasn’t
pleased with that, and after a brief wait tried to bite the other ankle.
Alden promptly kicked him harder than before.
Evidently that wasn’t the right way to overcome the conceited
young man, so what did Bucephalus do but suddenly buck? He
arched his back, jammed his hoofs together and bounced up and
down as if the ground had suddenly become red hot. Alden hadn’t
expected anything of the kind, and came within a hair of being
unhorsed. He saved himself, braced his legs and body and then let
the animal do his best or worst. The youth was sorry he had no
spurs, for he would have been glad to drive them into the sides of
the mischievous brute. The latter bucked until tired, then spun
around as if on a pivot and finally dashed off on a dead run.
Alden let him go unrestrained, knowing he was taking the right
course, for he saw plenty of hoof prints in the ground over which
they skimmed. It was not difficult for our young friend to keep his
seat, and he was rather pleased with the liveliness of the animal.
“There won’t be much of this left in you at the end of fifteen
miles, ’Cephy, and I have no objection so long as it doesn’t block the
game.”
After a time it was plain the pony had given up the fight. He was
galloping steadily, as if like the others, he had but one ambition in
life which was to throw the miles behind him in the shortest possible
time. All the same, Alden was on his guard. There was no saying
what whim might enter the head of the brute. One of his kind will be
good for weeks with no other object than to throw a man off his
guard. It did not seem likely that such was the case with the animal
Alden was riding, though it might be so. He thought it more probably
due to a natural exuberance of spirits, which after a time would
wear off.
There was no perceptible change in the character of the country
through which he was riding until some four or five miles had been
traversed. The undulations were trifling and at the end of the
distance named, it may be doubted whether horse and rider were
ten feet higher or lower than at their starting point. The surface was
rough in many places, but not once did ’Ceph slacken his splendid
pace, which must have risen to twenty miles an hour. He had to
swerve and occasionally make rather long detours to avoid natural
obstacles, but he lost no time. Had the conditions lasted he would
have covered the fifteen miles well within three-fourths of an hour.
 The pony slackened his pace, though still maintaining a gallop, for
the ground not only compelled him to veer first to the right and then
to the left, but took an upward turn. Following his rule of leaving his
animal to his own will, Alden did not touch the reins. The fact that
tracks showed on the right and left as well as in front indicated that
he was following a well-traveled course, though he could not discern
any traces of wagon wheels.
The sun had sunk behind the mountain range which towered to
the northwest and the jagged crests were tinted with the golden
rays. The scene was grandly beautiful, and though he had looked
upon many like it, Alden never lost his admiration of those pictures
which are nowhere seen in such majesty and impressiveness as in
our own country.
Well to the northward rose a peak, whose white crest showed it
was always crowned with snow. Seen in the distance the spotless
blanket had a faint bluish tint, caused by the miles of pure,
intervening atmosphere. Although the range to his left did not sweep
around far enough to cross the course he was pursuing, Alden could
not help wondering whether a turn in the trail would not force him
to pass through the spur as he had done in the case of the lesser
range behind him.
“If it is so, there must be a pass, for many others have traveled
this road before me.”
It seemed that he ought to overtake some emigrant train, since
hundreds of them were plodding westward, and his speed was much
greater than theirs. But he saw no more evidence of other persons
about him than if he were in the midst of an unknown desert. He
might as well have been the only horseman or footman within a
thousand miles of the spot.
It was with a queer sensation that once more scanning the ridge
to the northwest, Alden distinguished a column of smoke climbing
into the sky, just as he had discerned one earlier in the afternoon.
He had not yet decided in his own mind whether the former bore
any relation to his passage through the gorge, and he was equally
uncertain about the signal that now obtruded itself. He brought his
binocular to bear, and with ’Ceph on a rapid walk, spent several
minutes in studying the vapor. The result was as in the previous
instance, except that the fire which gave off the smoke appeared to
be burning among a clump of pines instead of behind a pile of
boulders. Once or twice in the gathering gloom he fancied he
detected the twinkle of the blaze; but if so, the fact gave him no
additional knowledge of the puzzling question.
It cannot be said that he felt any misgiving, so long as the course
of the pony did not lead him toward the signal smoke which may not
have been a signal after all. Wandering bands of Indians must have
had frequent need of fires for preparing food, and it would seem
that more of them ought to have been seen by the horseman.
’Ceph was still walking. Although the steepness had declined, he
showed no disposition to increase his pace. Alden was surprised, for
it was not that way with Dick. The viciousness shown by the pony
lowered him in the esteem of the youth. He could not shake off the
suspicion that the ugly spirit would show itself again, even though
the animal had been conquered for the time.
For the last fifteen minutes, Alden was conscious of a dull, steady
roar which gradually increased as he went on. He was drawing near
the cause and must soon learn its nature. He was still wandering
and speculating, when he caught the gleam of water through the
sparse willows that lined the trail.
“Jenkins told me I should have to cross some streams and this
must be one of them.”
So it proved. A minute later, the animal came to the margin of a
swift creek which flowed at right angles to his course. In the
obscurity of the settling night, Alden made out the farther bank,
which was about a hundred yards away. A growth of willows
showed, and ’Ceph hesitated with outstretched nose, as he snuffed
the ground. Instead of entering the water at once, he moved to the
right for several rods and stopped again. He was looking for the
ford, from which fact his rider judged they were off the regular trail.
Leaning over in the saddle he scrutinized the ground. He saw no
signs of hoofprints or tracks of wagon wheels.
He did not interfere with the horse, who, having passed the brief
distance, began snuffing again and gingerly stepped into the stream.
When the water came to his knees, he paused long enough to drink
and then resumed feeling his way across.
With the setting of the sun, the temperature had fallen a number
of degrees. Alden was warmly clothed, but had no blanket. When he
left the train in company with Jethro he expected to rejoin his
friends before the close of the afternoon and a blanket would have
been an incumbrance, but quite acceptable now.
“I hope ’Ceph won’t have to swim,” he said, with a shudder: “I
shall be chilled, for I know the water is icy, but there’s no help for it.”
The roar that had caught his attention some time before sounded
on his left in the direction of the ridge, where the signal fire was
burning. The explanation was clear: the stream issued from some
gorge or tumbled over rapids or falls, and gave out the noise that
was audible for a long distance in the stillness of approaching night.
The pony felt his way carefully, with nose thrust forward,
occasionally snorting and not bearing down until he found the
bottom with his advanced hoof. Once he slipped, but instantly
recovered himself.
Alden waited till his feet were within a few inches of the surface.
Then he slipped them out of the stirrups and drew them up in front.
Deprived thus of his “balancing poles,” a quick flirt of the pony to
one side would have flung him into the water, but ’Ceph, if he was
aware of it (and it would seem he ought to have been), did not seize
the chance.
Half the distance was passed and the dangling stirrups dipped.
Would the good fortune continue all the way across?
 It did. The stream shallowed, and increasing his pace, the pony
stepped out on the other bank, with the moisture dripping from his
fetlocks. Only the lower part of his body, however, had been wetted.
Alden himself was dry even to the soles of his shoes.
“Thank fortune!” he exclaimed; “I hope we shall have the same
luck at the next stream. Now we’re off again, old fellow.”
As nearly as the rider could judge, he had ridden half the distance
to the next station. If he were right, seven or eight miles remained
to be traversed. He was doing well but why did not ’Ceph “let
himself out,” when the ground was favorable? He still walked,
though ever stepping rapidly, with head dipping with each fall of the
hoof.
For the first time, Alden broke the rule which had governed him
heretofore: he spoke sharply to the pony and jerked the bridle rein.
The animal instantly responded with a gallop which he kept up for a
half mile, when he dropped again to a walk. And before he did this,
his rider discovered to his consternation that he was going lame.
The limp showed more plainly when he was walking, and was
steadily aggravated until the progress became painful to the rider.
He was of a merciful disposition and could not bear the sight of
suffering in a dumb creature. He stopped the horse and dropped
from the saddle.
“I shall be in a fine fix if you give out, ’Ceph, not knowing the way
to the next station nor to the one we have left, but I am more sorry
for you than for myself.”
The animal was bearing his weight on three legs, the tip of the
right fore hoof just touching the ground. He seemed to be suffering,
and favored the disabled leg all he could. Speaking soothingly, Alden
gently passed his hand down the graceful limb from the bent knee to
the fetlock. Although he used only the weakest pressure, ’Ceph
winced when the friendly fingers glided over the slim shank, as if the
touch was painful.
 “There’s where the trouble is,” he decided; “he must have strained
a tendon, though I don’t feel any difference.”
With infinite care and tenderness Alden fondled the limb, and
’Ceph showed his appreciation by touching his nose to his shoulders
as he bent over his task. The youth increased the pressure and
rubbed more briskly. The action seemed to give relief, and by and by
the pony set the hoof down on the ground and stood evenly on his
four legs.
Hoping that the trouble had passed, Alden walked backward a few
steps and called upon ’Ceph to follow. He obeyed and stepped off
without the slightest evidence of trouble. The rider’s hopes rose
higher.
“If you will lead I’ll be glad to follow; it won’t do—”
His heart sank, for hardly half a dozen steps were taken when
’Ceph limped again: the halt grew more pronounced, and suddenly
he hobbled one or two steps on three legs, holding the remaining
hoof clear of the ground as he did so.
“That settles it,” said his master; “you may be able to reach the
station without any load by resting often, but it will be hard work.”
In the effort to aid the sufferer, Alden now removed the saddle
and mail pouches. With his rifle they formed quite a burden, but he
was strong and rugged, and knew he could carry them as fast and
probably faster than his companion would travel.
“I ought to leave you here,” reflected the youth, “and I should do
so, if I knew my way: I need you as a guide and shall have to suit
my pace to yours.”
Once more he nursed the foreleg and after a time, ’Ceph set it
down. He hobbled forward a score of paces before the limp
reappeared. After that he kept it up until his master called to him to
stop.
It looked as if the mustang understood what was asked of him,
and was doing his utmost to grant it. Alden kept at his side, and as
soon as he paused, patted his neck and spoke encouragingly.
’Ceph rested but a few minutes when he resumed his walk without
any word from his master. The latter with amazement noted that the
animal’s gait improved. He stepped off with increasing speed. Soon
no limp was perceptible: he walked as well as ever!
“Good!” called Alden; “you’ve got pluck; I take back all I said
against you. Whoa! whoa!”
Instead of obeying the youth hurrying at his heels, ’Ceph broke
into a gallop and speedily passed from sight. Alden kept up the
useless pursuit until exhausted. Then he stopped disgusted and
angered. He understood the whole business.
It has been said that Bucephalus once belonged to a circus. He
had been a trick pony and remembered several things. One of them
was to get rid of a rider whom he disliked by pretending to be lame.
He had worked the stratagem upon Alden Payne, who when too late
saw through the whole mean business.
 CHAPTER XIX
A BLESSING IN DISGUISE

A lden Payne was in the quandary of his life. Deserted by the

unprincipled Bucephalus, he was left with saddle and mail
pouches six miles or more from his destination, and still farther from
the station behind him. And the worst of it was he did not know the
way to either.
It would not have been quite so bad if, when the outrage
occurred, he had been on the well-marked trail, for then he could
have groped forward, certain of arriving sooner or later at the place
he had in mind.
“If I had the chance I’d shoot that confounded ’Ceph!” he
exclaimed; “if a horse knew how to grin, how he is grinning over the
youngster he fooled! Well, I shan’t bother with you, that’s certain.”
These words were addressed to the saddle, which he flung
impatiently to the ground: “whoever chooses can find you; I don’t
tote you another rod.”
It was different with the mail pouches. He felt a peculiar awe
concerning them. In some way they stood for the great United
States. Having been locked in distant Missouri, they were not to be
opened until San Francisco was reached. Within those leathern
receptacles, wrapped in oiled silk nestled the hundreds of letters,
written on fine tissue paper and sealed in flimsy envelopes. Who
could tell their weighty import? Every writer had paid five dollars in
advance, and far away on the Pacific coast were anxiously waiting
the men and women for whom the messages were intended. No;
whatever happened, Alden must get them to the station, if the task
were within human possibility.
 Weighing only twenty pounds, the pouches were not burdensome.
Slinging one over either shoulder, and trailing his rifle, the sturdy
youth could have walked a score of miles without being irked. The
whole and sole problem was to go in the right direction.
It was a puzzle indeed. The most sensible course seemed to stay
where he was until morning. Daylight would enable him to find the
trail, and the labor was comparatively easy. He walked to the nearest
boulder and sat down. The night had grown more chilly and he
shivered. He always carried a box of matches in a small rubber safe,
it was easy to collect enough twigs and branches to start a fire.
Two causes, however, prevented his doing this. He could not
forget that signal smoke which told that Indians were not far off.
The blaze was likely to draw them to the spot. Again, his mind was
in such a tumult, that he could not sit still. He must keep moving.
There was no moon in the sky, but the millions of stars were never
more brilliant. In the clear atmosphere they gave enough
illumination to show quite well where he trod, except when
threading through the willows or passing close to the towering
masses of rocks. Inasmuch as he had decided to keep up the effort
to reach the next station, the obvious thing to do was to follow in
the hoof prints left by the pony. Doubtless he was making for the
station and would reach it within the coming hour. What would the
agents think when he dashed up without rider, saddle or mail
pouches? What could they think except that the man had been killed
and the bags stolen?
It is a difficult but not impossible task to trail a horse by night. To
do it, however, requires the finest woodcraft. That wonderful scout
Kit Carson performed the exploit many times, when he had neither
the moon nor stars to aid him. First locating the trail, he reasoned
out the point for which his enemies were making. His familiarity with
the country and his intimate knowledge of the red men were rarely
at fault. It might be some river crossing a dozen miles away. Paying
no further attention to the trail, the pursuer hurried to the ford,
where by passing his hands over the earth he learned whether the
hoofprints were there. If so, and as I have said he seldom missed it,
he decided the next most likely point for which the fugitives were
heading, when he took up the pursuit and pressed it as before. More
than once by this remarkable strategy he reached a certain place
ahead of the Indians and ambushed them when they came up.
But such exploits make an accurate knowledge of the country
indispensable. Alden Payne was a stranger in a strange land, beside
which his experience was not to be compared with that of the
peerless scout and mountaineer named. And yet to a certain extent
he followed the policy of the veteran.
His conclusion was reasonable that Bucephalus was making for the
station and would change his course only when turned temporarily
aside by obstacles. He would follow the line of least resistance all
the way through. His late rider meant to do the same.
Standing a few minutes at the beginning of the trail, with mail
pouches slung over his shoulders he took up his hard task. So long
as he was erect, he could not see the impressions in the earth, but
by stooping low made them out. At such times, when the surface
was flinty or pebbly, he not only used the sense of feeling, but
lighted a match. Holding this close to the ground he was generally
able to see that for which he was seeking.
Alden must have traversed a furlong without turning to the right
or left. At the end of that distance the ground began slightly rising,
and led to a low rocky ridge. Once more he paused and held a
lighted match to the ground.
He had made no mistake: the impressions showed clearly. The
fact sent a thrill of hope through him. He might succeed after all.
Noting that the signs turned to the left, he did the same. A dozen
paces brought him to a depression through which it seemed likely
the pony had gone. He followed and coming up the opposite side
made sure by lighting another match. The footprints were not
visible.