to decide the question of precedence.
Pike subsequently indulged quite heavily in a kind of appropriation peculiar to the West, called “land-grab¬ bing.” He crossed the Sangre de Cristo Range into the
A RETROSPECT. 23
San Luis Valley, and built a fort on the Rio Grande del Norte, claiming the land in the name of the United States, for which he was taken prisoner by the Spanish soldiers,
but afterwards released. It is
the Indians with howitzers
strapped on the backs of don-
keys. When the fire was
touched to them and the pow-
der began to fizz, the donkeys
whirled ’round and ’round
like a mammoth Japanese
pin wheel, while the men hugged
mother earth so closely as to
leave a deep imprint of their
forms, which can be seen to
this day, by the aid of a dou¬
ble, back-action microscope of
extraordinary power. This
is supposed to be true, be¬
cause you can generally tell where one has been lying.
And then the ebbing wave of time threw a mist over the country for fourteen years more. In 1820, Col. Long was sent out to explore. He discovered Long’s Peak, which was named for him. At least this is the historical supposition, but a Colorado barnacle tells me that this peak is so called “ because it takes long to climb it.”
The curtain went down, and was rung up again in 1843, when General John C. Fremont passed through on his way to the Pacific. Soon after the great migration to California commenced, and Colorado became the gateway to the land of gold, her own treasure still sleeping, to startle the continent when its morning should come.
24 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS.
In 1858, gold was discovered near the present site of Denver, and with the discovery began the first chapter in the history of Colorado.
__________
CHAPTER III.
DENVER IN ’59.
From records and statistics of the past twenty-five years, and conversations with the pioneers, I gathered the fol¬ lowing stories :
In 1859, immigration rolled into the country with al¬ most unexampled rapidity. Stretching far out over the plains, was an apparently interminable procession of white- topped wagons, moving, it seemed, at a snail’s pace, many bearing the inscription, “Lightning Express,” “Pike’s Peak or Bust,” “Root Hog or Die,” “From Pike County to Pike’s Peak,” etc. Strange vehicles of all sorts crawled on the trail to the golden shrine. One pushed a wheelbarrow laden with supplies, and, it is said, took a boarder to help defray expenses. Another packed an ox with tools and provisions, and when weary and foot-sore from walking, swung himself to the creature’s tail as an aid to locomotion. Many made the journey in pairs, with handcarts, alternately pushing and riding.
Denver seemed a second Babel. The arrival of teams, the loud cracking of whips, shouting of voices, and the sound of the builder’s hammer, made “confusion worse confounded ” of tongues and matter. Dwellings and bus¬ iness blocks—shanties—rose with marvelous rapidity.
DENVER IN ’ 59. 25
The prevailing style has been graphically pictured by the pioneer poet, Greenleaf:
“Inspect we this, built ‘fifty-eight,’ by one of bluest blood;
The logs are all square-hewn, and chinked and plastered o’er with mud;
The roof of poles, o’erspread with brush and what you’d call dirt-shingles;
Its chimney square—stones, sticks and mud artistically mingles.
The earth had been well hardened down to constitute a floor;
They hadn’t got to windows yet—’twas lighted from the door.
’Twas furnished in Auraria style, and that the very best,
Comprising four three-legged stools, a table and a chest;
The dishes—the prevailing style—were tin ; when meals were o’er
What cared he for hot water? ’twas a step beside the door,
To scoop of dirt a handful, and to pluck a wisp of grass,
Some skillful passes, lo! each plate would shame a looking-glass!
That’s how he washed the dishes; next he seized each knife and fork,
And found the ground a substitute for rotten-stone and cork.
When, late at night, he stretched himself on skins of buffaloes,
No couch of down held tenant yet who suffered such repose! ”
Entertainments of various kinds were given, and, though in primitive style, were thoroughly enjoyed. Mr. Fred. Salomon’s dinners, as related, '‘took the shine off of everything.” He was considered the most punctiliously polite man in the settlement, a reputation fairly won and well preserved, as the following story will attest. His was a bachelor’s home, with a bona fide ground floor, and furnished with pine table and three-legged stools. On one occasion he gave a dinner to his lady friends, and it was a meal that would have delighted the most fastidious epicure.
After the repast, the ladies, thinking it time to take their leave, requested Mr. Salomon to bring their wraps. Instead of protesting against the brevity of their stay, he instantly complied with their request, saying, “Certainly,
26 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS.
ladies, certainly; I will with the greastest of pleasure.” When the force of his speech dawned upon him he hastened to apologize, at the same time nervously searching for his handkerchief to mop his perspiring brow. It was long before he heard the last of his after-dinner politeness.
I remember hearing him say that the bachelors of ’59 used newspapers for window shades, and as soon as one became a Benedict, the papers were replaced by curtains. If that is the rule to-day, Mr. Salomon still has newspaper window shades.
“There are stranger things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than
