ning grew into scorching noontide; the full
flare of the Arizona afternoon came on; and night again. The rifles
cracked in the bear-grass. Thin jets of pallid flame spurted from
behind the rocks. The bullets kicked up little dust-clouds.

So for three days and three nights. For it took those six hundred
Apaches that length of time to kill the seven white men.

But before the last of them died, the Free Thompson party slew between
135 and 150 Indians.

In after years Cochise told of the battle.

"They were the bravest men I ever saw," he said. "They were the
bravest men I ever heard of. Had I five hundred warriors such as they,
I would own all of Chihuahua, Sonora, New Mexico, and Arizona."

That was the breed of men who kept the Butterfield stage line open,
and the affair at Stein's Pass is cited to show something of their
character, although it took place after the company began removing its
rolling-stock. For in 1860 Russel, Majors & Waddel accomplished a
remarkable coup and brought the overland mail to the northern route.

They performed what is probably the most daring exploit in the history
of transportation. The story of their venture bristles with action; it
is adorned by such names as Wild Bill Hickok, Pony Bob Haslam, Buffalo
Bill, and Colonel Alexander Majors.

Colonel Majors held the broadhorn record on the old Santa Fe trail,
ninety-two days on the round trip with oxen. He was the active spirit
of the firm of Russel, Majors & Waddel. In 1859 these magnates of the
freighting business had more than six thousand huge wagons and more
than 75,000 oxen on the road between St. Joseph, Missouri, and Salt
Lake City, hauling supplies for government posts and mining companies;
they were operating a stage line to Denver where gold excitements were
bringing men in droves.

One day in the winter of 1859-60 Senator W. M. Gwinn of California had
a meeting with Majors' senior partner, William H. Russel, and several
New York capitalists in Washington. Senator Gwinn proposed a plan to
show the world that the St. Joseph-San Francisco route was practical
throughout the year.

That scheme was the pony express; men on horseback with fresh relays
every ten or twelve miles, to carry letters at top speed across the
wilderness. Congress had pigeonholed his bill to finance such a
venture. He urged now that private capital undertake it, and he talked
so convincingly that Russel committed himself to enlist his partners
in the