A GLIMPSE OF THE ROCKIES--THE PATH OF THE PROSPECTOR, LIKE THAT OF
THE POET, LIES IN A STONY WAY.
Mr. Creede’s success is due largely to his lasting love for the
mountains, which was love at first sight. It was in 1862 that the
scouts were ordered to Dakota; and it was then he saw for the first
time the grand old Rockies. They were nearing the Big Horn Range, and
the sight of snow in August was something the Indians of the plains
could not understand. In fact, they insisted that it was not snow, but
white earth, and offered to stake their savings on the proposition.
Some of them were foolish enough to bet their ponies that there was
no snow on the ground in summer time. Late that evening they camped
at the foot of the range, and on the following morning, four men were
sent up to investigate and decide the bets. The result was a change of
horses, in which the Indians got the worst of the bargain. For nearly
a week they lingered in the shadows of the cooling mountains and were
loth to leave them.
[Illustration]
When, some years later, the scouts were mustered out of service, Creede
returned to his old home in Iowa. But he soon tired of the dull, prosy
life they led there; and, remembering the scent of wild flowers and the
balmy breeze that blew down the cool cañons of the Big Horn Mountains,
he determined to return to the region of the Rockies. Already he had
seen his share of service, it would seem. For more than a dozen years
he had slept where night had found him, with no place he could call his
home; and yet there are still a dozen years of doubt and danger through
which he must pass. For him the trail that leads to fortune and fame,
is a long one; and many camps must be made between his pallet on the
plains and his mansion by the sea. The path of the prospector, like
that of the poet, lies in a stony way, and nothing is truer than the
declaration that:
The road is rough and rocky,--
The road that leads to fame;
The way is strewn with skeletons
Of those who have grown lame
And have fallen by the wayside.
The world will pass you by,
Nor pause to read your manuscript
Till you go off and die.