July 25.
We cannot fancy ourselves in this elegant brick edifice; but it's
an ill wind that blows no one any good, and had we not been
nervous of driving sixteen miles in a raging thunderstorm last
night you would not have received a letter by this mail. The heat
is so great that I am afraid my ideas won't flow. It is a hot
thundery day, cloudy and close, the thermometer is at 109 degrees in
the shade, and everything one touches seems to be at melting point!
Unfortunately we have had all our cool things for our journey, and
they are too dirty to wear in a "live" town. These three last days
are the only days we have had to grumble at the heat; and, I
expect, if we bad been out at the farm, quietly doing our various
works, we should not have felt it so much; but a tent on a hot day
is like a stove-house, quite fearful.
We have had a very successful tour of seven days, sleeping five
nights on Mother Earth, which was mercilessly hard. Lived chiefly
on corned beef, tea, and marmalade, three times a day. Driven 173
miles, nearly the whole time in pretty, sparely inhabited, wooded,
and undulating country. Had another 300 miles to and fro in the
train, and arrived here last night hoping to get home to our own
beds, when we distressed at finding no buggy from the farm, though
we sent them a telegram early in the morning before leaving Flat
Creek, which we conclude they haven't received.
Just as we were starting, and before our small packets could be
fetched from the station, a fearful thunder-storm, preceded by a
dust-storm, came on; and we had to take refuge in an hotel, which,
contrary to our expectations, was not only clean, but comfortable.
The climax to all our troubles has been that the man from the
livery-stable was unable to get our hand-bags, so that we actually
had to go to bed last night and get up this morning without a
sponge, comb, toothbrush, or any blessed thing. We were nearly
sprinkling ashes on our heads and rending our garments when the
fact was broken to us; but, considering we had no other clothes to
fall back upon, we suppressed our feelings (and drowned our tears)
in sleep, putting in nearly twelve hours, as it was 9.15 when we
woke this morning, and it was not very late when we retired. We
had neither of us slept well the night before, and it had been a
hot, suffocating day for travelling, so that we were very tired
when we got in. What useful things hair-pins are! I have always
found them excellent bodkins, button-hooks, wedges for misfitting
windows, &c., but until to-day had never realized what a capital
comb they would make, held tightly.
I don't know that we have had any very amusing adventure; but the
whole expedition has been an adventure, and therefore, as it
proved the business of the day, it was taken seriously--I mean, we
hardly laughed when we all shared the same drop of water in a
bucket to wash our face in turns, and then hands, drying ourselves
with the same towel, which was not always of the cleanest, and
when we shared the same tin cup to drink out of. Of course we
managed to get in a very fair amount of chaff. I used often to
drive, and it was said that if ever there was a hole or stone on
the trail I used to bump, bump over it, shooting the others almost
out of the carriage, so that there were cries of "danger ahead,"
when they declared they had to hang on to each other for safety.
We had to leave A---- behind us yesterday at Flat Creek with the
carriages and horses, to follow us in a freight train, and he has
just turned up, very hot and weary and out of temper with the
railway authorities, as they make so many unnecessary difficulties
in unloading. Instead of following us directly yesterday, as he
was told he would do when he first put the horses on the train,
they did not start until late in the afternoon, and have been
travelling all night, A---- sleeping very peaceably in the
horsebox.
We are to go out to the farm as soon as the horses have been fed
and we can reclaim our lost baggage of last night.
I am thankful to say that we never came across any snakes during
our expedition, though they are said to abound by Brandon and
further west. The only one we saw was when the conductor on our
train brought us a parcel and showed one coiled up inside. It was
a trial to our feelings, but I believe it was dead. There are none
around Winnipeg, not even a worm.
* * * * *
C---- FARM, July 30th.
We found the most lovely batch of letters, almost worth being away
from home for ten days, on our arrival here at 12 o'clock P.M. on
Tuesday, which completely revived our drooping spirits; we were
feeling rather limp and tired after a long day in Winnipeg, and
losing our way across the prairie coming home. It was very dark,
and the only guide we had was when the vivid flashes of lightning
reflected the farm-buildings; as it was, we drove through the big
marsh, the mosquitoes nearly eating us up; and A---- so worried by
them that he couldn't think of the trail, and trusted to the
horses finding their way. The joy of coming upon our own fence is
better imagined than described. I pictured to myself that we
should be like one of our labourers, who, having gone into town
just before we started up west, lost his way coming out,
unharnessed his horses and picketed them, and sat down quietly,
waiting for daylight before he ventured on. It is marvellous that
anyone finds their way on the prairie. There are numberless trails
made during the hay-harvest, which may mislead; and in a country
which has been surveyed, some time back, the section-posts have
almost entirely disappeared, the cattle either knocking them down
or they having been struck by lightning.
We found our bedroom very full of mosquitoes, so that our sleep
was much disturbed, in fact we never slept properly till after the
sun rose; but our letters cheered us up and were far more
refreshing than ten hours' sleep.
The netting over our windows had got torn from the tacks, so that
the mosquitoes had come in by shoals just to show how they
appreciated the attention of having things made easy for them.
Otherwise, we are not generally much bothered with them in the
house, netting being over every door and window.
The cat sometimes thwarts our protection by jumping through them in
the morning, and no thumpings seem to impress her with respect for the
said net.
We are told the mosquitoes will be gone in a fortnight; certainly
the big yellow ones have lived their time and are, not so
plentiful, but they have been succeeded by a small black species
which is quite as venomous, and not so easy to kill.
We went to Church yesterday at Headingley: quite a red letter day.
It was only the second time we have been able to manage it in the
ten weeks we have been here; and though it was very hot in Church
we were ashamed to take our gloves off, on account of the scars.
The Church is quite a nice little building, and the service
delightful after so many weeks of not hearing it. We had to take
our horse out, tie it to the churchyard paling, and put the dog,
in the buggy to take care of our goods and chattels.
We are getting quite low at the thoughts of leaving this in ten
days' time; being rather like cats, attached to any place where
one has heaps of occupation, and where one is kindly treated and
well fed, however ugly that place may be.
We have been very busy haymaking since we got home, and a grand
stack is in the course of erection nearly opposite the dining-room
window. You never saw anything so astonishing as the way the oats,
potatoes, etc., have shot up in our absence. Even the puppy, which
we left a fluffy ball, seems to have grown inches. Then, all my
chickens are hatched, and are an endless pleasure and anxiety. I
am supposed to spend hours over them.
We have received four sheets of official paper from Mr. W----,
full, of directions about our journey to Colorado, describing his
home, etc., even to the nickel-plated tap we shall find in his
kitchen, which is to supply us with an unlimited amount of water.
He tells us we need bring nothing but a saddle and a
toothbrush,--he will find all the rest; and that we are to make it
a note that it is one of the strictest rules of mining camps that
guests are never allowed to pay for anything. As we hope he is
making a fortune by his mines, we shall not have so much
compunction of accepting these terms. We are to sight-see, climb
I mountains, go into the mines, fish for trout, and do nothing the
live-long day but amuse ourselves.
I am afraid A---- will miss us terribly, dear old soul! He is very
fond of having us here, and is always bemoaning our departure. I
think it will make a great difference to him and to his humdrum
hard-working life, as we are always cheery and have never had a
difficulty or annoyance of any sort.
* * * * *
August 6th.
We are rejoicing now that we have settled to go to the Rocky
Mountains, as the hot weather we speculated on avoiding has come
in with a rush, and for a whole week the thermometer has been at
80 to 85 degrees. One morning before a thunder-storm, when it fell
forty degrees in a few hours, it was up to 90 degrees. We have had
some rain, but not the heavy if storms we have seen wandering round
which generally follow the course of the Assiniboine--a relief to our
minds, as our hay is still out.
It has been cut nearly all round the property outside the fence,
in spite of the risk one runs of having it subsequently claimed by
the owner of the section, who is generally a half-breed, a loss
only to be avoided by leading it home at once, which we are doing.
This has happened to our neighbour, with whom, I am afraid, we do
not sympathise very keenly, as he had taken up the marsh which our
men cut last year, and had the full intention of doing again this
year, so they looked upon it in the light of their special
property.
We have only two waggons working here, as nearly all the men and
horses are gone over to Boyd's; and as our hay is a mile and a
half away, we don't get much more than five loads a day, so that
the stack does not grow very fast.
Our excitement this week has been a cricket match with Boyle's
Farm; four of their men we challenged. It really was too amusing.
They had a bat and ball, stumps, but no bales, and played on the
prairie, which was so fearfully rough that it was almost
dangerous, the ball shot in such various directions after hitting
the tufts of grass. Everybody fielded, but a ball going into the
wheat-field behind the wickets was not counted as a lost ball. The
total score of the two innings was only ten, and in one our
opponents went out without a single run; so you may fancy the
howls of either applause or derision at every ball.
* * * * *
August 17th.
The Farm with all its toils and pleasures is a thing of the past;
we were both very low when we turned our backs upon it and its
inhabitants just a week ago. We have been in such robust health
the whole of our three months, hardly a headache or finger-ache.
Our maid-of-all-work life has suited us, and we have acquired such
an immense deal of practical knowledge that for those reasons
alone, we might be gratified and pleased we came. Since then we
have been staying with Mike in Minnesota, where we were either
riding or driving (anything to do with horses) all day long.
Driving four miles, jumping the horses over a pole, taking them
down to water, having a mule race (which was truly amusing as the
course was just in front of the house and several bolted home),
and driving, a gang plough, were a few of the "diversions" found
for us. Our host was most kind and anxious to make us comfortable;
he worked heaven and earth to get his house ready, the contractors
having taken so much more time than they said; anyhow, he turned
the carpenters out of the house the day previous to our arrival,
carried in the furniture, nailed up mosquito blinds, and did many
things himself, so that everything should be in spick and span
order.
As these men, Mike having two partners, are farming thirteen
thousand acres, they are on a much larger scale as regards
buildings, numbers of horses, etc., to anything we have seen
before. Their living-houses are about double the size of C----
Farm; they have also huge stables, which A---- fancies will be cold
in winter, but have a most imposing appearance, as have also their
implement house, sheds, etc. The land seemed much the same as
ours, a rich black loam, but very much wetter, marshes everywhere.
They have broken two thousand acres since the beginning of June,
and were busy, whilst we were there, cutting hay, Mike hoping he
had already got over five hundred ton up!
We drove one day to see a neighbouring farm which is said to be
the "boss" one in all the country, belonging to a man who has been
out five years. He was just starting to cut his two square miles
of wheat, and we watched the seven self-binding machines with
great interest. They seem as light as a reaper, and the machinery
comparatively not intricate.
We were driven through some standing corn, which was rather
agonizing to our British ideas, but he thought nothing of it. The
straw was four and a half feet high, and he hopes to get forty-two
bushels to the acre. His farm being on the Snake River, and having
many creeks running through as drainage, is a great advantage. His
vats were pronounced no better, if so good, as ours at C---- Farm.
We remained at Warren a day longer than we had intended, as we got
to the station just in time to see our train move off. We accused
Mike's Irish groom, who is quite a character, of bringing round
the carriage too late on purpose. If he did, I think all the party
forgave him; we were very happy, it gave us another night of
A----'s society. Mike was low at our going. Poor man! one cannot
be much surprised at his liking to keep us, as, besides the
fascinations of ladies' society, he has no neighbours whatsoever,
and, excepting the two men he has in the house, there is not a
gentleman nearer than Winnipeg. He offered me seventy-two dollars
a month to be his housekeeper. E---- was to have two dollars a
week as parlour-maid, which she considers an insult; or she might
have seventy-five cents a day if she would drive the ploughs.
Servants and labourers get higher wages there than in Manitoba,
all the men were averaging thirty-five to forty dollars a month
and their keep. They were all Swedes and Germans, of whom there is
an enormous colony in the state.
We are now trying to spend our day at Council Bluff, a large
junction of the Grand Pacific Railway, having come in here at 8
o'clock this morning, and our train to Denver not leaving till 7
o'clock this evening. The hotel is right on the station. The
weather is so hot, that as yesterday, at St. Paul's, where we also
had to spend a whole day, we have never summoned up courage to go
beyond the door. It was suggested we might take the tram and go up
into the City; but E---- has a notion that one city is much like
another, particularly on a hot day.
It is curious how Americans live in hotels; there are several
families in this, and if my letter is not very intelligible you
must forgive me, as I am writing in the grand corridor to try and
catch the slight draughts of air blowing through, at the same time
that half a dozen children are playing up and down.
The scenery yesterday from St. Paul's all along the banks of the
Missouri was very pretty. We both of us sat outside the Pullman as
long as daylight lasted, feasting our eyes oh the water, trees,
etc. The height and luxuriance of the latter seemed quite
incomprehensible after the total absence of forest scenery for so
many months. It is pretty round here; and by the time we get to
the Rocky Mountains we shall have got beyond the stage of thinking
a hillock a mountain, and fairish-sized trees not so wonderful
after all; but at the present moment we are in that pleasing
state, ready to admire anything and everything. We hope to get to
Denver on Saturday night, and rest there Sunday and part of
Monday, and we also hope to get to Church there. Mike offered to
drive us into Warren last Sunday; but as the service was a Swedish
Presbyterian, we didn't think we should be much edified.
* * * * *
DENVER, August 2lst.
We arrived here Saturday evening, very tired and not at all sorry
to exchange the Pullman for a comfortable room and bed, which we
had telegraphed for, and therefore not, like so many of our
fellow-passengers, obliged to seek shelter elsewhere. The
Pullman's are most comfortable, and for a long journey like ours
nothing could be so good; but I am glad that in England we don't
have either these or the ordinary American car in general use. The
publicity is so odious, and one does get bored by the passengers
constantly wandering up and down the train, and the boys who pass
and repass every ten minutes selling books, newspapers, cigars,
candy, and the unripest of fruit, which they are always pressing
you to buy; to say nothing of chewing, spitting Americans one has
to countenance all day long. The last four-and-twenty hours of our
journey have been very tiring. The scenery has been so monotonous;
endless long undulating plains like the waves of the sea, covered
with grass quite dried up, a few flowers, and a bee-shaped cactus.
The heat was very oppressive, a hot sirocco, wind blowing which;
obliged us to keep our windows shut on account of the fine
alkaline dust. E---- had her window open last night, and awoke this
morning to find herself in a layer of ashes.
We skirted the South Platte River most of the time; it was only a
bed of shingles, wide and shallow, with not a drop of water in it.
These plains, extending for thousands of miles in all directions,
are the great "ranching," or cattle-farming districts, formerly
the favourite breeding-grounds and pastures of the buffalo, which,
alas! have all disappeared. We only saw a few tame ones amongst
the herds of cattle; they have been killed in the most ruthless,
indiscriminate way for their furs, and will soon be "things of the
past."
We wondered much, with the river and every visible stream so dry,
how the large herds of cattle and horses were watered; but have
since been told that water is so near the surface the herdsmen
have no great depth to dig to procure any quantity. We thought we
could have made a good pick or two amongst the horses, but we
didn't care for long-legged ugly big-horned cattle brutes. Here
and there was a herdsman mounted on a small Indian pony with a
high Mexican saddle, enormous spurs, and a long lasso, galloping
and dexterously turning his animals.
Our train had to pull up several times and whistle loudly to turn
the animals off the track, there being, as usual, no rail or
protection; but pulling up for them was not half as exciting as on
Thursday night, when we stopped repeatedly to turn a man off the
train who, not having paid his fare, nor apparently intending to
do so, had swung himself in some marvellous way under the cars,
hanging on by the break. Whenever we slackened speed he jumped
off, walking quite unconcernedly alongside; but the moment we
moved on he got on again. We never knew how far he continued his
perilous ride, I fancy that even the officials gave up
remonstrating; anyhow, as long as daylight lasted and we could
watch the men, no efforts on their part seemed to make the
smallest impression.
Three hours before getting into Denver we had our first glimpse of
the Rockies, and although they were then only in the blue distance
we were quite excited about them; and at Greely Station (much
impressed on our minds by having read Miss Bird's book just before
coming here), we came in full view of Long's Peak,--almost wishing
"Mountain Jim" might still be alive to ascend it with us,--and
the whole of the gorgeous range; and quite one of the loveliest
sights I ever saw was watching two thunder-storms on either side
of the Peak break and disperse, whilst the reflections from the
sunset-glow lit up the rest of the heavens. The railway and Denver
City itself is about thirty miles distant from the mountains, but
the atmosphere is so clear that they look as if quite within an
easy gallop.
It is difficult to understand why the town has been built so far
from the mountains, situated as it is on a sandy, treeless plain.
It is growing, like most of the western towns, at a tremendous
pace, and we are lodging in a luxurious hotel, our room on the
fourth floor numbers 454. We found the avenues of trees lining
every street an immense boon this morning in going to church at
the cathedral.
The heat, though great, is not so oppressive as either at St.
Paul's or Omaha, but then we are at the height of 5,000 feet; and
this afternoon the air has been cleared by a thunderstorm preceded
by a great sand-storm, which we watched from our windows
encircling the town, so thick that mountains and all view was
obliterated for the time being.
Denver is a great resort for invalids, chiefly those suffering
with asthma.
* * * * *
August 22.
Before leaving Denver we went to a gunsmith and invested in a
fishing-rod and numberless flies, with which we intend to do great
execution. We also went to the exhibition, opened a month ago and
still unfinished; one of the leading men, to whom we had a letter
of introduction, showed us everything. It is chiefly interesting
to miners, as the display of minerals from Western America is
unrivalled. There seemed, in the specimens, enough gold and silver
to make us rich for ever; unfortunately our ignorance on the
subject of ore is too great to thoroughly appreciate it.
* * * * *
OURAY, August 24.
It is not easy to sit down and write after forty-eight hours
travelling, as we have been doing since leaving Denver on Monday night
at 7 o'clock; but in such scenery and air so exhilarating we do not
feel as tired as we expected. You should have seen the omnibus,
stage-coach, charridon, or any other name you please to give the
lumbering vehicle in which we performed our last twelve hours' drive;
it looked truly frightening when it drove up to Cimarron depot, one
tent, last night, to pick us up, intended for twenty passengers and
any amount of luggage, and swung on great straps. It was wonderfully
well horsed, and we changed our teams every ten miles; but only then
came at the rate of five miles an hour. We both of us started for our
sixty-four miles' drive on the box-seat with the driver, who happened
to be an extremely nice man and an experienced whip; in former days he
had driven the stage-coaches across from Omaha to San Francisco, a
journey of three weeks. But he took up much room on the seat, and
every time he had to pull up his horses his left elbow ran into me,
until "he guessed my ribs would be pretty-well bruised."
About midnight, when our only other fellow-passenger turned out
from the inside of the coach, I entered it, though I expected
nearly every moment would be my last, the bumping was so fearful.
I managed to get a few winks of sleep towards morning. E---- sat
outside all night, finding it very difficult not to drop off the
coach from drowsiness. The early hours of the morning, after the
moon went down until dawn, were truly wretched, what between the
outer darkness, the flickering of our lamps, the unevenness of the
road, and the clouds of dust, and one almost began to wonder if
the journey was worth so much trouble.
But with daylight we quite altered our opinions; as really I do
not think, if you searched the whole world over, you would find
anything more beautiful than the Uncompahgre valley and park
looked in the morning light.
Mr. W---- met us at 5 o'clock A.M. at the "Hot Springs," so called
from the boiling water that gushes out of the ground, and which is
said to give the name of "Uncompahgre" to the district, that being
the Indian word for hot water. He brought us out hot coffee and
food to refresh us, and drove us the last nine miles up the
valley. We came slowly, thoroughly enjoying the scenery. On either
side of the road are well-cultivated farms. Within two miles of
Ouray the park narrows into a magnificent gorge, bounded on each
side by precipitous cliffs of red sandstone, covered with pines
and quaking aspen, the whole crowned by arid peaks. From this
gorge you suddenly come upon the town, situated in an amphitheatre
of grand gray, trachyte rocks.
Our house is in Main Street. The ground floor is an office; our
four rooms are on the first floor, to which we ascend by a wooden
staircase outside.
Every nook and corner is filled with some curiosity or mineral
specimen. Our host being a great sportsman, there are various
trophies of the chase--a mountain lion, wild sheeps' heads, bears,
cranes, even to a stuffed donkey's head; there are also cabinets
of fossils, specimens of ore, etc., and great blocks of the same
piled on the floor.
Our family consists of our two hosts, Messrs. W---- and B----, two
Indian ponies, a mule, two setters, and two prairie dogs, which
are reddish-buff marmots. We are only to remain here one night,
and, if thoroughly rested after our journey, go up to the log
cabin in the Imogene Basin, 3,000 feet higher. We are both looking
forward to it immensely. It is right in the heart of the
mountains, 10,600 feet, and with no one near us, as all the mines
surrounding the cabin belong to a company which had to suspend its
works last month for want of funds, so that they are not being
worked. The air is glorious, and we feel already perfectly
restored to our usual health, though we are warned that strangers
cannot walk much at first, the air is so rarefied, that one is
soon out of breath. Anyhow the atmosphere has been so clear that
it much added to our enjoyment in seeing the ever varying beauties
and distant mountain view all along our journey from Denver here.
We unfortunately came through the "Grand Canyon" at night. Had it
been clear the porter on the car was to awake us to see it; we
could quite picture to ourselves its beauties by the scenery in
the Black Canyon we came through yesterday by daylight. The
engineering all along the line is marvellous, the way we rose
nearly 7,000 feet by a zigzag over the Marshall Pass, or the Great
Divide, going down nearly as many feet on the other side and then
through these canyons, which are only narrow gorges for a raging
torrent to rush through on its headlong career.
Our train was a very narrow gauge with bogie wheels, and we
twisted so, in and out of the bends of the river, that the engine
often looked as if it might easily come into contact with our
carriage which happened to be the last. It is the great advantage
of the Pullmans they are always on last to the train when passing
through any pretty country, and when there are no other carriages
of the same, so that one can sit on the rear platform and see all
the scenery.
We entered into conversation with two Germans, and were amused by
one of them surreptitiously bringing us two pink trout from his
luncheon at the wayside hotel, we having remained in the carriage
for our frugal meal; and though we had got to the "Sweets" stage
felt hound to begin again, and much enjoyed our fish. The food
provided at these wayside inns is generally so bad and dear, a
dollar a head charged for sixteen to eighteen dishes, of almost
uneatable messes, that we prefer the tinned meats and fruits we
have, in our luncheon basket; and for drinks we have beautifully
iced water in all the carriages, the ice being replenished at
every big station.
The last forty miles of our railroad journey was over a line only
opened ten days ago, by which, I am thankful to say, we avoided
twelve hours more of the stage-coach and a night in a Colorado
inn, which, we are told, is anything but pleasant, there always
being many more bed fellows than what one bargains for; and we
should not have seen the Black Canyon and its thirteen miles of
grandeur and sublimity. The railway track is cut out of the sides
of the over-hanging rocks, and in places is built on a bed of
stones in the creek itself.
The rocks at times almost seemed to meet overhead, then widened,
we crossing and re-crossing the torrent by wooden bridges which
shortly are to be replaced by iron ones. The colouring was so
beautiful, the chasm being generally in shade with the mountains
above standing out in glorious sunshine, covered as they were in
many places, even as far down as the water's edge, with pines.
Nature is marvellous in its productions, but the ingenuity of man
is also wonderful, and we quite came to the conclusion that the
scenery of that canyon was worth coming all these thousands of
miles to see.
* * * * *
OURAY, August 27th.
The name of Ouray, given to this town, is from the last chief of
the Utes, who, with his tribe, lived to within a couple of years
on a reserve down in the Park. The first stake is said to have
been struck by white men in 1865, but no cabin was built until
1874, and from that time the town has been growing rapidly, having
now about 1,000 inhabitants. In the south-west portion of the
basin in which it stands, and where the waters of Canyon Creek
flow into those of the Uncompaghre, there are some lovely canyons
and picturesque gorges, and here, in places where the hot springs
overflow the banks of the main stream, the rocks are covered with
maiden-hair and other ferns. These hot springs serve to keep the
river unfrozen even in the severest weather.
* * * * *