To the left, beyond a flat expanse of brown, sun-scorched grass, flowed the widely-spreading waters of the Arkansas, barely covering the treacherous sandy bottom, and from the other side came the more distant gleam of alkali plains; to the right arose the bluffs, here both steep and rugged, completely shutting off the view, barren of vegetation except for a few scattered patches of grass.

Suddenly a man rode out of a rift in the bank, directly in front, and held up his hand.

Surprised, startled, the driver instantaneously clamped on his brake, and brought his horses to a quick stop; the conductor, nearly flung from his seat, yanked his gun forward.
"None of that now," called out the man in saddle quickly, both hands uplifted to show their emptiness.

"This is no hold-up.

I 've got news." He spurred his pony forward slowly, the animal seemingly barely able to move, and swung out of the saddle beside the front wheel, staggering a bit as though his limbs were cramped as his feet felt the ground.
"I 'm from Fort Union," he said, "Seventh Cavalry, sent through by way of Cimarron Springs.