SOMETHING ABOUT DR. BYRD
It was well known how Mummy Cañon obtained its name. High up on the face
of a bluff was a large rock, almost human in shape, in wrappings like a
mummy. Mummy Cañon had not yet attracted the attention of sight-seers.
No railroad ran near it, and only a rattling stage-coach line carried
visitors between the nearest depot and the small settlement of
Jamestown, or "Jimtown," as it was popularly called, near which Dr. Byrd
had located his boys' school.
Dr. Byrd had served many years as a physician on English ships visiting
the Orient, and, by both inheritance and good fortune, had become
wealthy. When about fifty years old he found that the heat and dampness
of the tropical climate were undermining his health and that he must
heed the warnings of nature. So he returned home, but in London found
that his throat still troubled him, and he decided that he most move
elsewhere.
His children being grown and married, he and his wife sold part of their
personal effects and came to America. Then they traveled about a good
deal, trying to find a climate that would promote better health for the
doctor, but every place they visited proved unsatisfactory until they
reached Colorado.
The altitude of this state, second highest of all the states of the
Union, together with the atmospheric conditions, proved "just the
thing." But where should they make their home? Denver was delightful as
to climate, but the doctor was not contented there. He loved nature, to
be out of doors; he had no patience with clanging street cars, smoking
engines, and houses huddled together. So they began their search anew.
One day they stopped at Lake City and took a stage-coach ride over the
La Garita Mountains. The vehicle was only a rattling two-seated open
buggy, drawn by four horses that might have pulled a plow over any
American field, but it was dignified with the name stage-coach. The
driver was a young man who had a contract with the government for
transporting mail to and from various mining points along the way, and
he added to his profits by carrying passengers and all manner of light
freight.
Along the foot of the mountains they rode for several miles, then up a
grade and around a spur of a perpendicular hill, up, up, up, winding
here and there, overlooking deep gullies, dashing downgrade into a
ragged valley, with its noisy brook; then up again and on and around
they wound to where the pines stuck in the mountain sides like
toothpicks.
In the course of this journey they passed through Mummy Cañon. But this
gorge had not yet received its name, and when the imaginative Dr. Byrd
beheld the "swathed form" on the face of a lofty bluff, he called
attention to it.
"That's the mummy," said the driver in a matter-of-fact way.
"It looks just like an Egyptian mummy," declared the doctor. "Does
everybody call it that?"
"Everybody around here does."
"What's the name of this cañon?"
"'Tain't got none. I s'pose it'll get a name one o'these days when more
people settle 'round here."
"It's going to have one right now," announced the doctor. "Its name is
Mummy Cañon. I call you two as witnesses of the christening."
"You'll have to stay here a while and tell everybody or the name won't
stick," laughed Mrs. Byrd.
"And that's just what I'm going to do," was the surprising answer. "I'm
going to make my home right near here--with your permission, of course,
my dear. This is just the country I want to live in. It's good for my
health. It's good for my eyes; I like to look at it."
That settled it. Mrs. Byrd was amiable and happy to live in any place
where her husband's health could improve. Moreover, she, too, was
delighted with the scenery and praised it almost as much as did the
doctor.
But there were other features of special interest in the cañon. This
part of the state had once been inhabited by the cliff-dwellers,
prehistoric Pueblo Indians. Ruins of their early dwellings and defenses
were to be found here and there, although usually they were in such
dilapidated condition that it was difficult to make out their character
except at close range.
The "mummy bluff" stood out high on the side of a most remarkable
mountain, especially noticeable because of its shape. The sides looked
unscalable and the top appeared to have been cut off clean and level
with a monster knife, a few hundred feet lower than the neighboring
lofty peaks. Before leaving the cañon, Dr. Byrd gave a name also to this
mountain. He called it Flathead.
The doctor was well pleased with "Jimtown." In fact, he was pleased with
everything now. The mining settlement was booming when he and Mrs. Byrd
arrived. It was located close to the side of a mountain; a few of the
houses, in fact, stood a short distance up on the steep slope. The place
was so busy that nobody seemed to have time to notice the arrival of so
humble a pair as a London physician and his wife, and they selected a
site and built a home without attracting any particular attention.
The site was located near a pretty mountain-spring lake that fed a
tributary of the Rio Grande. It was about three miles from Mummy Cañon.
The scenery of course was beautiful, as it is in all of mountainous
Colorado. The lake was clear and cold. It rested in a pocket more than a
hundred feet above a delightful valley and behind it was a range of
tall, steep, snow-capped mountains. The outlet was down several natural
terraces that converted the little river into a succession of dashing
cascades before it reached the valley.
This place was several miles from "Jimtown," the nearest settlement. Dr.
Byrd engaged servants and began the cultivation of a considerable farm.
The beauty of the spot and the personality of the settlers soon
attracted attention, and several others moved there and began the
cultivation of farms. Before long a post office branch was opened and
the stage-coach line ran two miles out of its way to deliver mail,
groceries and general supplies.
Meanwhile the doctor made acquaintances rapidly. He was a most
entertaining person to meet. He had traveled extensively and seemed to
know the world. He had an excellent library and a magnificent collection
of curios from many countries. Moreover, he had a delightful
personality, tall, straight, athletic figure, kindly intelligent face,
and a shock of curly iron-gray hair that commanded the admiration of all
who saw it.
But the doctor's best friends were boys. And there was a reason for
this. The boys whom he met always found in him a best friend. He knew
all about them, their likes and dislikes, their sports and their
hardships. He had a vivid recollection of his own boyhood days, and he
could reel off yarns by the hour. Just put him into a company of
youngsters and let him begin: "When I was a boy," and everybody was all
attention in an instant. Of course there were not many boys living in
the neighborhood of the new mountain home, but there were a good many in
Jimtown, where the doctor soon became a familiar figure. And there was
always company at "Lakefarm," as he had named the place, and the
"company" always was urged to bring the boys along. Frequently they
would remain at Lakefarm after the grown-ups had departed, and every
summer the place became "a regular boy ranch," as one visitor called it.
Finally the doctor got so interested in "boy-ology" that he resolved to
open a boys' school. Manual training had become quite the fashion in the
making of young men all over the country and this appealed to the owner
of Lakefarm. So he let his ideas become known and was astonished as well
as pleased at the indorsement they received.
Five years after settling at Lakefarm Dr. Byrd built a schoolhouse and a
shop and a dormitory on his farm, engaged instructors and servants, and
then announced that he was ready to receive pupils. It was surprising
how rapidly the school was filled. In two weeks Dr. Byrd announced that
he could receive no more, and the registry list was closed.
Most of the boys were of either wealthy or well-to-do parents. Naturally
this was an almost necessary condition, as the tuition and living
expenses at an institution of this kind were not the lowest. But to
offset this, the doctor made arrangements for receiving a few pupils on
nominal payments or free of charge. One of these poor boys was Hal
Kenyon, whom Dr. Byrd found selling newspapers on a street corner in
Denver. Hal proved to be such a bright lad that the owner of Lakefarm
decided at once to do something for him. Hal's parents were willing and
he went to school in the mountains.
Three successful and happy years had passed since the opening of the
school on Lakefarm. Meanwhile the settlement around the school grew
until the census enumerator reported fifty families. Previously the town
had been known as Byrd's Place, or just Byrd's, but now the subject of a
permanent name arose and a meeting was called to settle the matter.
Flathead was the name selected. After this the name of the school was
changed in the popular mind. Officially it bore the title of Lakefarm
Institute, but soon it was spoken of frequently as Flathead School,
while some humorously played on the idea suggested in the name and
styled it the "School for Level-headed Boys."
This latter pleased Dr. Byrd very well, for it expressed his purpose in
a few words, to develop in his pupils a liberal supply of common sense.