During this same morning, a Mexican pony rider came in, mortally
wounded, having been shot by the savages from ambush while passing
through a dense thicket in the vicinity known as Quaking Asp Bottom.
Although given tender care, the poor fellow died within a few hours
after his arrival. The mail was waiting and it must go. Kelley, who was
the lightest man in in the place - he weighed but one hundred pounds -
was now ordered by the boss to take the dead man's place, and go on with
the dispatches. This he did, finishing the run without further incident.
On his return trip he had to pass once more through the aspen thicket
where his predecessor had received his death wound. This was one of the
most dangerous points on the entire trail, for the road zigzagged
through a jungle, following a passage-way that was only large enough to
admit a horse and rider; for two miles a man could not see more than
thirty or forty feet ahead. Kelley was expecting trouble, and went
through like a whirlwind, at the same time holding a repeating rifle in
readiness should trouble occur. On having cleared the thicket, he drew
rein on the top of a hill, and, looking back over his course, saw the
bushes moving in a suspicious manner. Knowing there was no live stock in
that locality and that wild game rarely abounded there, he sent several
shots in the direction of the moving underbrush. The motion soon ceased,
and he galloped onward, unharmed.

A few days later, two United States soldiers, while traveling to join
their command, were ambushed and murdered in the same thicket.

This was about the time when Major Ormsby's command was massacred by the
Utes in the disaster at Pyramid Lake[27], and the Indians everywhere in
Nevada were unusually aggressive and dangerous. There were seldom more
than three or four men in the little station and it is remarkable that
Kelley and his companions were not all killed.