From the Improvement Era, September 1943 –

A Boy, a Bronc, and a Bag of Mail

By Bertha H. Woodland

Howard R. Egan, the youngest rider on the entire line of the famed Pony Express, except for the immortal Buffalo Bill Cody of the eastern division, who was but fifteen, tells of the first ride, in his own words:

The first Pony Express from the West arrived in Salt Lake City, April 7, 1860, having left Sacramento, California, on the evening of April 3, 1860. On the 9th it arrived from the East, having left St. Joseph, Missouri, on the same evening, April 3, 1860.

Officials at Salt Lake thought that because of the level country to run over, the Express riders would be able to make better time on the eastern division than on the western division. The two riders who were to run between Salt Lake and Rush Valley were therefore kept in the city.

Father [Major Howard Egan] thought that his boys’ record would be as good as the best, and, if it was, there would be no rider at Rush Valley to carry the Express to the city. To be on the safe side Father went to Rush Valley. His boys delivered the mails as expected, and father started on his first ride.

The pony on this run was a swift and fractious animal. The night was so dark that it was impossible to see the road. There was a strong wind blowing from the north, carrying a sleet that cut the face of anyone trying to look ahead. But as long as he could hear the pony’s hoofs pounding the road, Father sent him ahead at full speed.

All went well until he came to Mill Creek, which was covered by a plank bridge. He heard the pony’s hoofs strike the bridge, and the next moment pony and rider were in the creek, and Father was wet above the knees. The next instant, with one leap, the little brute was out, and they were pounding the road again. It was a very long time before the regular riders came up to the time made on that first trip — if they ever did.

One story that Howard R. Egan liked to tell was the one of an old well the “good Injuns” dug for his father in the Schell Creek Valley, Nevada, in an attempt to find water for a mail station.

When the seventy-five-foot hole failed to produce water, Major Egan gave up and put his laborers at more fruitful tasks.

As Howard R. Egan rode by years later, he decided to look things over. He descended the old well and found the walls as hard and smooth as a planed board. Then a new idea was born in the fertile mind of the frontiersman. Here, in this circular wall of virgin earth, his keen jackknife began to engrave the story of the Pony Express.

For several days he carved anything and everything his nimble mind could connect with the “Mail on the hoof”; its fears and follies, its dangers and doubts; its vanities and victories.

When he finished he unceremoniously climbed up, placed timbers securely over the top of the well, and rode on his way. He had left a record of one of the West’s most daring and romantic enterprises deep down in the bosom of Mother Earth.
So far as is known no human eyes have ever read the strange story that lies hidden in the dry well below the alkali surface of sun-baked Schell Creek Valley.

History records that the Pony Express was never successful financially. The enterprise lost two hundred thousand dollars in its eighteen months of operation. Howard R. Egan speaks about one difficulty:

Father was George Chorpening’s agent, or partner, and had the contract to carry the mail from Salt Lake to Placerville, California. I don’t know whether he had the contract to the east or not. When the money failed to come to pay off the men, and other expenses, Father was forced to pay expenses, using every resource to keep the mail going, expecting every day to receive the money that he had been told by letter from the boss had been sent by a trusted agent by way of California. Father later learned that this “trusted” agent was a connection of the boss, and when he arrived in San Francisco he was either robbed or gambled away the whole amount. It was later supposed that it melted by the latter process. Ben Holliday and I had not received a dollar for thirteen months. . . .

The Pony Express continued its uncertain service until October 24, 1861, when the telegraph from the East and West met at Salt Lake City.

Historically the Pony Express was finished but the Pony Express rides today and always in the hearts of those who love the old West.