USA > Colorado > San Juan County > Pioneering in the San Juan; personal reminiscences of work done in southwestern Colorado during the "great San Juan excitement," > Part 4
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It was a weird and strangely solemn funeral. Both bodies were placed side by side in the little log cabin where Mr. Gregory's family lived, near "timber line." A babe at the mother's breast and seven other children like steps (so near of an age),
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all gathered around the remains of their father. (Lytle was a bachelor.) Brave men wept as they looked down on the faces of their departed brother miners, and into the face of that widow, and those of her children. You may depend upon it that neither the distance up the mountain side to that cabin home, now desolate, nor the long winter caused those hardy men to forget the needs of the bereaved family.
Having been gone from home two days, and hav- ing seen enough to touch a man's heart to its lowest depths, my own home and the loved ones seemed doubly dear. While the men who went to the front as home missionaries, in the early days of church work amid the rugged mountains of Colorado, saw much that touched their hearts and tried their nerves, they also saw things which convinced them that the hearts of true men often beat under a rough exterior. If you want to know a man through and through, put him where he will have to face the music or show the white feather.
It is wonderful how strong the attachments become between men of opposite tastes, different habits and education-differing as widely as is conceivable-when their danger is one, and all realize, and face it like men.
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CHAPTER XII
AN OLD LADY'S PRAYERS
"There is a peculiar beauty about godly old age-the beauty of holiness." -Alexander Smith.
While calling to mind past experiences, when dangers have gathered around us, we sometimes wonder how we escaped with our lives. We may say that God's everlasting arms were underneath and around us; yet after all we are convinced that there is a hidden mystery about it. Many could in truth trace their escape from death to the "effectual fervent prayers" of some "righteous man" or woman.
In all my varied experience I never had my heart so touched as it was by the recital (one year after that terrible trip to Silverton with "Gus" Talbot, the mail-carrier) of an old lady concerning her deep anxiety and all-night and all-day prayer for my safety. She was a quiet, unassuming, God-fearing woman, not easily approached, said little to any one and seldom went anywhere except to church.
I was making pastoral calls and had been in her
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home but a short time, when tears came to her eyes as, with quivering lips, she asked: "Do you remem- ber the terrible snow-storm that swept over this San Juan country about a year ago?" I replied I had good reasons for remembering it. "So have I," said she. "You know you gave notice in church that you would be absent the next Sabbath; that you were going to Silverton to preach and intended to organize a church. I saw you ride by and knew you expected to go as far as Burrows Park with your horse and then snow-shoe it over the range. You know I was the first white woman in all this region and, having lived several years among these moun- tains, I can tell by the way the clouds hang round the high peaks when there is going to be one of those terrible storms; and I knew by the way the clouds were gathering that before you reached Silverton the storm would overtake you. I knew your disposition so well, and from what I have often heard about you, I knew you would either get to Silverton or die on the range. So when night came on, and, with the darkness, that terrible storm, I prayed for you all that night and all the next day; for the storm still raged, and I knew you were in it somewhere on the range."
So soon as I could control my feelings sufficiently
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to speak without showing what some men call weak- ness-but I do not, for the man above all men "wept"-I said: "Now I know why I lived through that fearful storm."
The summit of the lofty ranges is where the "Storm King" gathers his strength that he may sweep down the rugged mountain sides; and woe betide the traveler who is caught in his arms when the darkness of night as well as the fury of the storm is doubled! No wonder the trees at timber line are twisted and their limbs bent, while they hug the rocks almost like a living thing.
Every severe storm in which I have been has made a lasting impression on my mind; and when muscular rheumatism gets hold of me, I am con- vinced that those storms have left a deep and lasting impression on my body. It also reminds me of the fact that frontier work, like other kinds of work, has its price. You do the labor and take your pay. Yet, after all, lives there a minister who, looking back and recalling his struggles and hardships on the frontier in the Master's cause, regrets one hour of suffering, one hardship, one danger, or one dollar given to the work? Verily no! Their only sorrow is that they were not able to do more and give more for Him who gave all and suffered more than
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tongue can tell, that they might live eternally with Him.
The following is a sample of what I find recorded in my "Pastor's Register," under the head of "Regis- ter of Funerals": "Donald Robertson, age thirty- five; residence, Capitol, Colorado; place of burial, Lake City; date of burial, November 24, 1879. Lost on the range at the head of Henson Creek; caught in a storm at night; fell about twenty-five feet; froze to death." What intense mental suffer- ing that man endured! What longings for the morn- ing dawn! What weary wanderings hour after hour! Only those who have been on the summit of some lofty range of mountains in a storm at night will ever know.
Like the grand old ocean, when a calm is on her face, she looks so harmless, so quiet-yea, restful-so do our grand old mountains look beautiful, bold and harmless. But when the "Storm King" strikes them, their faces change and they are the opposite of restful. They fill the hearts of men with terror.
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CHAPTER XIII
AN IRREPRESSIBLE BOY
"Many a splendid genius was the despair of a good father when young. But all of a sudden he awoke and went into action like a soldier into battle, and made a name that will live forever." -Rev. Day K. Lee.
Next to the boy who teased the bald-headed man until he gave him twenty-five cents to keep still, and then called it his "bald-headed quarter," Lake City could boast of having the hardest. He was about seven years old. A man who kept a saloon at the "upper crossing" of the old "Slumgullion" stage road, on the Lake Fork of the Gunnison River, died, and I was asked to officiate at his funeral.
The procession was rather short for a mining- camp. If the religion of a certain class of miners ever shows itself, it is at funerals; not, however, for the same reason given by a stingy man-that "the sermon be just as solemn and there is no collec- tion taken"-but to show sympathy.
There were only two wagons-one with the coffin, the widow and driver (the pall-bearers walked); the other a light spring wagon with a 83
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driver and the preacher. When passing through camp this irrepressible boy decided to join the pro- cession. After walking a short distance he asked to ride.
All went well until we arrived at the cemetery. A miscalculation had been made as to the time required to do the work of digging the grave. On account of the stones more time was lost than the grave-digger had made allowance for. When we reached the cemetery the grave was about half dug. While talking to the widow the irrepressible boy stepped up to me and asked: "When are you going to put that man in the hole?" Knowing the perse- verance of the boy, I invited him to take a walk around the place to see where a "washee man" was buried. At the Chinaman's grave the boy pulled his hand out of mine and left me. Soon he began throwing pieces of dirt at the men who were at work. A man who had walked to the cemetery (not a pall-bearer) slapped the boy, which caused con- siderable excitement, for one of the pall-bearers, a friend of the boy's father, proposed to "take it up."
When I returned to the little group at the grave the boy was crying bitterly. He being the cause of the trouble, I took hold of his hand, and said: "Come with me"; then he yelled, "Say, when are
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you going to put that man in the hole?" The little rascal was determined to see that man "put in the hole."
WHO'S NEXT ?
It was evident that some of the men in our camp were determined to be bad; others were reckless while seeking the gold that perisheth with the using, yet all seemed sympathetic. I never saw the time when it was difficult to get pall-bearers for "one of the boys" in a "live" mining-camp. It was consid- ered a post of honor. But realizing as I did that unless a higher value was placed on human life some of the "gangs" living in our camp would soon be "gone over the range" for the last time, I made up my mind that if there was any scare in the "boys" I would bring it out. Being asked to preach a funeral sermon (no ten-minute talk would satisfy that crowd), I was forcibly reminded of the fact that one "gang" would soon need a new set of pall-bearers. By referring to my "Pastor's Register," I saw this was the fourth out of the six original stand-bys for that crowd. The one just killed was particularly well-liked by his associates, and a young man in whom I had been greatly interested.
When about the middle of my sermon, after giv- ing dates of the death of each, and showing that
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they were unpleasantly near together, and having mentioned the fact that but two of the original six were left, I stopped for a moment, stepped toward the pall-bearers, and shouted, "Who's next?" Afterwards one of the men said, "It made me think for a while, for it startled me."
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CHAPTER XIV
GOOD IMPRESSIONS MADE BY WALKING THROUGH DEEP SNOW
"A Christian is like a locomotive. A fire must be kindled in the heart of the thing before it will go."
-M. W. Jacobus, D. D.
Before a minister can be made instrumental in reaching godless men they must first be convinced that he is in earnest, not only in what he says, but in all he does. All men place a value on earnest- ness; the majority consider eloquence, unaccom- panied by sincerity, below par.
For several months I had been preaching every Sabbath afternoon at one of the great mines four miles from camp. One Sabbath morning warm friends and careful officers said: "Mr. Darley, we hope you won't walk to the mine to-day." Over eighteen inches of snow had fallen, and the wind was blowing. I replied: "I must not miss my appointment." After a hearty dinner I changed my pulpit suit for one adapted to mountain trips and put on boots to match.
It took nearly three hours to walk to the mine.
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The road was up grade all the way and in many places the snow was waist-deep. Only one man was in the large room where services were held. He looked surprised, and said: "We did not expect you to-day." He started to the "bunk houses," and soon the men came wallowing through the snow. Although tired, it was a treat for me to see the earnest look of inquiry on those stern, weather- beaten, manly faces.
Afterwards the superintendent told me my walk- ing to the mine that Sabbath did great good. The men said: "That preacher must be in earnest, or he would not have walked up here after such a storm."
Rev. Charles Simeon kept the picture of Henry Martyn in his study. Move where he would through the apartment, it seemed to keep its eyes upon him and ever say to him: "Be earnest, be earnest, don't trifle." The great Simeon would gently bow to the picture and, with a smile, reply: "Yes, I will be earnest, I will, I will be in earnest, I will not trifle, for souls are perishing and Jesus is to be glorified." Oh, Christian! look away to Martyn's Master, to Simeon's Savior, to the Omniscient One, and be in earnest.
Earnest men may make mistakes by being a little too enthusiastic; but their good work will far more
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DR. DARLEY CARRYING THE GOSPEL TO THE REGIONS BEYOND.
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than overbalance their mistakes. While the man lacking in earnestness may be cautious, he will come as near being useless as it is possible for a human being to be.
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CHAPTER XV
ROUGH EXPERIENCE OF A MISSIONARY'S WIFE AND CHILDREN
"His warm but simple home, where he enjoys with her who shares his pleasure and his heart, sweet converse."-Cowper.
"When Mr. Disraeli retired from the Premiership, he was offered a place among the hereditary aristocracy with the title of Earl. He declined it with the intimation that, if there was any reward thought to be deserved, he wished it to be con- ferred upon his wife, to whom he attributed all his success."
The snow fell to an unusual depth all through the San Juan country early in the fall of 1879. All who were unable to cross the range and spend the winter in "God's Country," or the "United States," as the outside world was called, knew that the fall, winter and spring months would drag heavily; but having made up our minds to face the difficulty, every one seemed hopeful, and all were determined to make the best of our surroundings and enjoy life to the fullest. Those who danced, danced to their heart's content. Those who were especially fond of playing cards whiled away many long hours at the card table; while others enjoyed themselves coasting and snow- shoeing. When Sabbath came the majority went to
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church. The greater part of the winter we did without luxuries, and at times the things necessary to be reasonably comfortable were scarce; yet no one suffered. While pastor of "The First Avenue Presbyterian Church," in Denver, Mr. Spaulding, who kept a store in the camp in '79, told me that in the winter he sold every pound of apples or fruit of any kind he could get at sixty cents a pound. Every- thing else that was eatable brought a high price.
Mrs. Darley thought it would be wise, if it became possible, to get out of the camp with the children- two boys, one eight years of age, the other seven, and a daughter one year old. When March came it was considered safe to go with a sleigh by what was known as the "Indian Creek and Cochetopa Pass route." The distance to the end of the railroad was greater than that of the other stage routes, but it was the only way to get out of the San Juan, the other routes being impassable. We knew that something like one hundred and seventy-five miles through the heart of the Rocky Mountains, the greater part of the distance in an open sleigh, at that season of the year, was not a pleasant under- taking for a woman with three young children, especially when the snow was deep on the ranges.
But the pioneers of the San Juan took chances
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and traveled when and where they would not now care to travel in an open sleigh. After several con- sultations with the stage agent and drivers, it was decided that if the prospects for clear weather con- tinued the attempt would be made to get out. The morning Mrs. Darley and the children started was clear, but cold. All went well during the day and the different stations were made on time. At one of them a man was taken aboard who had a flask of whisky with which to keep warm. The driver drank a little now and then. In the evening both of them were feeling jolly. As night came on the party began the ascent of the pass. The snow was deep and in places the road was dangerous. The horses, however, were used to the route and kept their feet, though in portions of the road there was much ice. Mrs. Darley felt that the best thing to do was to keep the children well wrapped in robes and blankets. About the hour of midnight the top of the pass was reached and, by this time, the driver and the man in the boot with him were sound asleep. The horses were keeping the road them- selves without any assistance from the driver. Finally a sidling place was reached, and being icy the horses selected the best of the road and allowed the sleigh to run to one side. The result was an
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upset, at which the horses ran away. All the party had been thrown down the mountain side. The driver had his right foot badly cut, but started after the horses. Mrs. Darley, mother-like, had clasped her babe in her arms still closer when thrown. Unfortunately, she struck her face and left shoulder against a projecting rock, cutting her face in several places, causing the blood to flow freely, and severely bruising her left shoulder. Soon she discovered that she was the only one injured. But the younger boy was nowhere to be found, and the thought came that he was still in the bottom of the sleigh. He was found, however, sound asleep on the moun- tain side, rolled up in a lot of blankets. The dis- turbance had not bothered him in the least. The man who was with the driver being too drunk to render any help, the boys began digging in the snow with their hands and feet near some scrub pines (it being at timber line), hoping to find some dry branches with which to make a fire. They suc- ceeded in getting a few, but the man with them was unable to produce a match. The situation was serious. The snow was too deep for walking, and the nearest station was three miles away. The party would have suffered greatly had it not been for soldiers of the regular army. They had a post
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about one mile from the summit of the pass. As the horses. ran by it a guard saw them and awoke the captain in command, who, with a number of soldiers, started to see what was the trouble. Soon they saw baby clothes in the snow, which caused them to quicken their steps. The trunk had been carried some distance by the horses before they broke away from the sleigh. Finally the soldiers found Mrs. Darley and the children and offered to take them to a place of shelter. One of the soldiers took the babe in his arms and started. Mrs. Darley discovered that some of the troops were colored men, and asked who they were, and where they were tak- ing her and the children. Then the captain raised the lantern he was carrying and showed his shoulder straps, at the same time remarking that he was an officer in the regular army. Mrs. Darley knew that she and the children were safe with United States troops. When camp was reached they washed the blood from Mrs. Darley's face and did all they could to make her and the children comfortable. Mrs. Darley thinks the name of the captain was Allen. The next day the party were taken to Saguache, and the even- ing of the following day reached Del Norte on the Rio Grande River; then staged it thirty miles to Alamosa, the terminus of the Denver & Rio Grande Railroad.
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CHAPTER XVI
MOUNTAIN-CLIMBING
"One of the inhabitants of the rock-bound and sea-girt isle of St. Kilda, visiting the outside world, was asked if he had ever heard of God in St. Kilda. "Oh!" was the reply; "you in your fertile home may forget God; but a St. Kilda man never can. Elevated on his rock, suspended over a precipice, tossed on the wild ocean, he never can forget his God; he hangs continually on his arm." -Selected.
The following poem was written by Rev. Philip Bevan, D. D., after hearing of the hard trip made across Engineer Mountain in 1877 by Rev. Sheldon Jackson, D. D., and the author of this book. While at the General Assembly, in 1897, Dr. Jackson told me he would write this trip up and have it illus- trated :
"Stranger:
'Up the rugged hills ascending, Whither are those pilgrims wending? Through the horrid gulches steering, In the caverns disappearing, Farther, higher, still they climb- Will they scale that peak sublime? Hurrying 'mid the waste of snows, Will they court unbidden woes? Would they mark the sun arise
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Beaming through unclouded skies? Surely these some vow would pay Reverent to the orb of day, Or they trace the eagle's flight As he sweeps from height to height. Ah, they fall! they downward glide, On the avalanche they ride, By the icy monster borne Through the rocks and forests torn. Prostrate in the canyon deep Are they buried? Do they sleep? Craving gold with latest breath, Have they found, but grasped in death? No! they rise and shout aloud, Answering through the snowy cloud.'
"Herald:
'Stranger! Not with lust of gold Have we scaled these ranges bold; Not to rob the eagle's nest Have we crossed yon snowy crest; Not to hail the glowing sun We the icy peaks have won; Not to delve in glittering ore We this wilderness explore; Not to'gain earth's wealth, but show Richer mines than mortal know. Higher than the eagle's height, Teach we man a heavenward flight; Bring the lamp of life divine
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O'er his darkened soul to shine; Teach his tongue to pay his vows Anthemed in God's holy house; Make the rugged waste afford Praise and gladness to our Lord; While each sheltered vale shall rise Like a blooming paradise.'"
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CHAPTER XVII
COMICAL SCENES IN CHURCH
"Men are usually tempted by the devil, but an idle man pos- itively tempts the devil." -Spanish Proverb.
We had one lazy citizen, who lived near "Hell's Acre," whom I did not love; but after he fell and broke his neck then I wished I had loved his soul and done my full duty toward reclaiming him. He owned what he called an "express wagon"-others called it by various names; the horse and harness looked as much like that for which they were intended as did the wagon-and with this "outfit" he did hauling. A member of our choir employed said expressman to haul him a load of sawdust. The sawdust was to have been hauled on Saturday (at least, so said the man in the choir); but the expressman did not so understand. He sent his boy into the church for the purpose of asking Mr. Pay- ton "where he wanted that sawdust put." I was reading the Scriptures when I heard an unusual noise; looking up, I saw the boy coming down the aisle. What a sight! Man's boots on, clothes that fitted him like the darky's shirt-"did not touch him
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anywhere"-hair on end, and as dirty as boys generally get. When near the pulpit he yelled at me as though I were deaf: "Say! is Payton in here?" I turned my eyes toward "choir corner," and the boy's eyes soon rested on the man who had ordered the sawdust. Then he cried: "Say, Payton! father wants to know where you want that sawdust put." I kept on reading, but the urchin was the center of attraction. Elder D. A. McConnell, who sat near the boy, touched his arm and said: "Keep still, you are in church." The urchin answered, "Hey?" The boy's supreme innocence was more than the congregation could stand; his reply caused the pas- tor and people to lose their dignity for a moment.
We had some of the most dignified men in that church I have ever known; men whose sense of propriety was very keen. Anything savoring of impropriety was frowned upon, particularly by an officer from New Jersey. His whole life was pre- cise, and with his preciseness was mingled a kindly charity for others and a generosity that was refreshing. But terrier dogs and tomcats have but little dignity, and occasionally just as little sense of what is proper in the sanctuary. On a Sabbath evening one of each kind visited the church and, for some unaccountable reason, both walked into "choir
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corner." Very soon the truth of those familiar words, "'Tis dogs' delight to bark and bite," were forcibly brought to mind, for the terrier dog and the tomcat were soon at it. Such a racket was never before heard in "choir corner." Down the aisle came a faithful elder and our proper New Jersey man after the combatants. Both men quickly realized that they had a job on their hands, but, being Presbyterians and believing in the persever- ance of the saints, they captured dog and cat; yet not until services had been suspended. It was amusing to see the dignified way in which our proper man carried that cat and what a determined walk the elder had. The cat was held by the nape of the neck, the dog in arms. I was told that the cat was thrown across the street. Thus ended the row in "choir corner." Since then I have often wished that all rows in "choir corner" might be ended in as short order, if not in the same way. Choirs are a great blessing when they are what they ought to be-a help in every good work; but if they become what they were never intended to be-a cause of disturbance in the church-then thrice happy is that church where no choir is.
A black-tailed deer in church is something unusual, even in a "live" mining-camp. Men who
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have had much experience with deer know they are easily tamed and, if permitted, will follow their owners. In the early days of the San Juan excite- ment deer were plentiful, and still are in portions of the same country, although the "steam horse" has taken the place of the freight-wagon and burro pack train. A man living in camp had shot a doe and captured the fawn belonging to her. He kept the deer until it had grown quite large and let it run about the town. No dog could get the best of it. A big buck deer with great horns is not easily handled. Finally the deer went away and no one knew what had become of it. Many expressed themselves as being pleased that it had gone, for they were afraid of the animal. The deer was inclined to be ugly. One Sabbath evening, after the congregation had gathered and I was sitting behind the pulpit waiting for the ringing of the second bell, this large deer walked into the church and half-way down the aisle, seemingly pleased with the lights and the fright he was giving the ladies. He turned round, walked out, and went back to the hills with- out waiting for collection or sermon.
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