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 5
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CHAPTER XVIII
CROSSING SWOLLEN MOUNTAIN STREAMS
"It is remarkable with what Christian fortitude and resigna- tion we can bear the sufferings of other folks."-Dean Swift.
It is a good thing to look up, and very necessary when crossing a swollen stream.
It matters not how strong a swimmer your horse may be, you must not forget your danger and the folly of looking into the stream. Swiftly running water will make most men dizzy and cause them to fall out of the saddle unless they look up.
In June, '77, in company with H. C. James, M.D., I started from Ouray to cross the Ute Indian Reservation, a distance of one hundred and twenty- five miles. The weather being pleasant and our horses fresh, we thought that by taking the old "Cimarron Cut-off Trail," we could ride through in two days, if we went without blankets or extra load. One night out without blankets would do no hurt; and although cool in the mountains at night we could build a fire and be quite comfortable. Some business matters detained my companion, so we did not leave Ouray until 2 p. m. We hoped to reach
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CROSSING MOUNTAIN STREAMS
the home of the head chief of the Utes that night; failing to travel that distance we would stop with the agent. On reaching Cow Creek, about sundown, we found that we had more than we bargained for. The stream was high and rushing onward with all the strength and fury the melting snows could give it, so broad and deep that it made a river. The doctor had a fine American horse. I had a "bronco"; he was wiry, but light-weight.
We would not go back and we hardly dared go forward; but, having only a lunch in our pockets, we must decide. Finally we resolved to cross the stream. The doctor was an experienced hand at the business, and the preacher had tried it often enough to know that there was nothing particularly pleasing about it. The doctor kept his horse's head turned up stream until the swiftest water was reached and so crossed without great difficulty; but I fared differently owing to the lightness of my horse. He struggled hard, but his head turned down stream and we were swept back to the bank whence we started. After resting, the second attempt was made with like result and the third and fourth were also failures. By this time my horse was tired and the doctor was urging me not to try it again. But being wet, and night coming on, I was determined
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to risk crossing once more. After another breath- ing-spell I concluded to try higher up, where the stream was narrower and deeper, hoping to be able to get past the center before the head of the horse would be turned down stream. My hopes were realized. I was truly thankful when safe across. We knew that the Uncompahgre River would be impassable, so did not attempt to reach the agency. We made the best of it for the night and were on the trail by four o'clock next morning.
About noon we came to a branch of the Cimarron River. In crossing the doctor almost lost his life by looking into the water. He was nearly out of the saddle, hanging to the horn and the horse's mane. I saw his danger and called, "Look up!" which he did, and soon reached his place in the saddle.
One who has not been carried down a swift moun- tain stream can scarcely imagine how the water affects the head. You feel as though you were going at a terrific rate, although your horse may be holding his own to a wonderful degree.
It was but a few miles to the other branch of the Cimarron, which was wider, deeper and swifter. That same month a young man and his mule were drowned while trying to cross this branch. By the
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time we reached it we were tired and our stomachs were empty. But we must cross, though it was dangerous. We breathed easier when over, and, having let our horses graze for an hour, struck the trail and made Indian Creek that night at ten o'clock. We had ridden some sixty miles since 4 a. m. Next day we arrived at Lake City, glad to get home.
In February, 1890, I rode in a palace car over part of that country and found prosperous towns where, in '77, the Ute Indians and wild animals had full possession. I could hardly realize that such a change had taken place and did not regret that I had preached the first sermon in all the Uncom- pahgre region.
A Presbyterian minister carried the Gospel to the "regions beyond" in that country and, be it said to the credit of our Board of Home Missions, they showed their appreciation by a generous response to all my requests, as did the Board of Church Erec- tion.
On one hard trip, after crossing the Uncompahgre River, I found the camp of two trappers-"Oregon Bill" and "Happy Jack." The latter was the most dime-novel-dressed trapper I ever met. His entire suit was made of "red tan" buckskin, fringed with
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enough Indian trappings to suit the blackest-eyed dusky maiden in the Ute tribe.
I carried a small flask of whisky to use in case of an emergency. So, after sitting a while at the camp-fire, I drew said flask and began rubbing my swollen limbs. Both men looked on, and soon "Happy Jack" said: "That is the greatest waste of good whisky I ever saw; why don't you drink the whisky and rub your limbs with the flask?" For four days and three nights my clothes had been soaking wet and part of the time frozen, so that the hospitality of the trappers was appreciated.
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CHAPTER XIX
A HOME MISSION PROBLEM
"Henry, if each time you do as well as you can, your efforts will average about right."
-Dr. Lyman Beecher to his son Henry.
Home missionaries who did the hard work on the frontier, before the "steam horse" cut the price on freights-they who were paying ten dollars per hun- dred for flour, thirteen cents a pound for potatoes, one dollar a pound for butter and seventy-five cents per dozen for eggs-will enjoy the following:
Under "Rule Three" (in the commissions used years ago), for congregations applying for aid to the Board of Home Missions, we read: "Congregations should steadily aim at self-support as soon as pos- sible." Five years are placed as a reasonable time in which to accomplish this.
It reads well and looks plausible. But let us figure on the five-year system as it has worked on a great many mission fields; or probably we should say, as it has tried the missionaries who have occu- pied them.
First year, a church is organized; name, "First
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Presbyterian Church." Nine-tenths of its members bring their letters from other denominations. But few of them are deeply interested in the future pros- perity of the church. Before the church-building is completed one shows a disposition to pull one way, another another way. Yet dedication day comes. The money to pay the remaining indebtedness is pledged. Soon after an article appears in one of our church papers: "Church Dedicated Free of Debt"-"Blue Banner of Presbyterianism Foremost in the Fight, Carrying the Gospel to the Regions Beyond." Oh, yes! Sounds well. Those who have subscribed are called upon. One says, "I will pay," but does not; another says, "I thought so and so when I subscribed;" another leaves for parts unknown.
The missionary has dedicated a church with a debt, which makes him feel very uncomfortable; but since there is a kindly feeling existing between the people and himself, he says: "No reason to feel discouraged." With zeal for the Lord's cause, and "If God be for us, who can be against us?" for his motto, he goes to work manfully, with a firm determination not to growl, but to right things. Application is made to the Home Board for assist- ance; but the Board is unable to grant what is
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asked. The members of his church are unable to keep their part of the contract. The missionary, or else his wife, has a little money on hand and decides to use it rather than leave the field, saying : "All will be well in the end; prospect is good; pull through this year, and all will be lovely." He pulls through; feels happy, sends in an encouraging report to the Home Board, and asks for less the second year than he did the first.
Possibly the Home Board takes it for granted that, since the missionary managed to survive last year on less than Presbytery voted him, he can do so again. His commission is made out for less than is asked, and for less than is necessary to live. He receives his commission and, with a heavy heart, takes his troubles "to the Lord in prayer"; then gets out his expense book. The missionary and his wife figure a while, talk matters over and conclude that the Lord will provide. The next morning the missionary calls on his grocer and tries his level best to convince him that everything will be all right in time.
With a little cough and a kindly smile, the gentle- man at the store expresses his sincere desire to see the church prosper-but, ah !- yes-just so. Prob- ably some other missionary has gone home saying:
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"The faith of man is very weak." To make a long story short, he begins trading at another place and, when he reads, "Owe no man anything," wonders if that refers to the man who is "carrying the Gospel to the regions beyond."
The missionary tries to keep cheerful and chooses for his text Sabbath morning: "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." He preaches his sermon with all the earnestness with which his debts have inspired him. At the close of the service some good brother takes him by the hand, saying: "How your sermon comforted me!" And, as a matter of course, the preacher adds a few more words of comfort. Yet, in spite of his determination to be brave, he becomes pale and nervous. Some sympathizing friend remarks: "You are overworking yourself; if I were you I would take a trip to -," naming some place that would take more money to reach than the mis- sionary would accumulate in a year, should he live on scenery and light air during that time and save his salary for the trip.
But since every cloud has its "silver lining," and the darkest day is supposed to have an end, the mis- sionary plucks up courage and is purposed never to say die. He says: "My debts are many and badly
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A HOME MISSION PROBLEM
scattered; this is distressing. How can I remedy the evil?" After consulting his wife-that great bless- ing to missionaries, for a greater help than a faith- ful, uncomplaining wife cannot be found-he decides to owe but one man. The banker will in all probability loan the money at two per cent a month (that was the lowest rate of interest in the San Juan; I have paid twice as much). He borrows the money and comes within one of owing no man any- thing. He is in better spirits; the dark clouds appear to be passing away; his year is nearly out and everyone says the prospects for the future are good. A church meeting is called. The missionary, true to his trust, tells the people that it is their duty to do all they can to make the church self-support- ing. He says: "The Home Board is in debt. Let us try to raise more money this year than we did last."
More is pledged (some of the subscriptions would be considered by those who take nothing but "gilt- edged" paper for security as rather scaly). The application for aid is made, sent to the Presbytery, voted on, goes to the Home Board-and lo! the same shearing process takes place again; not from any lack of sympathy on the part of the Board, but from necessity, because the church at large fails to
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PIONEERING IN THE SAN JUAN
furnish the money required to pay living salaries to her missionaries. Commission comes to the mis- sionary for less than he expects; the ghost of a note is due at the bank; a kindly, gentlemanly Christian request comes from the superintendent of missions to take up another outpost and carry the work for- ward. All, like an armed force, meet the home missionary; and in blank despair he says: "What shall I do?"
If some good soul, who has the time, will please figure how a missionary, under these circumstances, can make a church, where his congregation is con- tinually changing, self-supporting in five years, he will greatly oblige many home missionaries. The process looks to me a good deal like Paddy's experi- ence with his horse-"one straw less each day," but when the horse got down to one straw a day it died.
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CHAPTER XX
MINERS AND PROSPECTORS
"God has put something noble and good into every heart which his hand has created." -Mark Twain.
There is a vast difference between the miner and the prospector. Many think these names synony- mous, but they are not. They represent two dis- tinct classes of men, whose dispositions and lives are as varied as it is possible to imagine. A miner is one who works in the mines, has a home and labors for wages. You are liable to find him in the same place month after month. The prospector is one who will not work in a mine any longer than it takes to earn a "grub stake," or else he gets some one to "stake" him. He seldom has a home, but he does possess a burro, a prospector's pick and shovel, some cooking utensils for camp-life, a few blankets and hope and faith enough to supply an ordinary church-if it were only hope and faith in heavenly things.
Had I the ability to paint a picture of these two graces it would be altogether different from any- thing I have ever seen painted to represent them.
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PIONEERING IN THE SAN JUAN
The picture would be the prospector starting out with his burro packed, headed for some "new find." Job said: "Surely there is a vein for the silver, and a place for the gold where they fine it." A pros- pector once corrected me on this passage of Scrip- ture by arguing that the word "fine" should be "find." A prospector always hopes to find the "hidden treasure." He talks of it by day and dreams of it by night; the one all-absorbing ques- tion that possesses his mind is: "Where can I strike it rich?"
In the seventies there was not much finery nor a great attempt at show in dress throughout the San Juan; but there was enough sympathy, good will, kind deeds and big-hearted hospitality to fill a state and bless the human race. During these years the few ministers who went to the front found no palace cars in which to ride and seldom a horse to mount. Walking was reasonably good and fashionable. Miner, prospector, merchant and preacher were privileged to walk.
Often while preaching in the camps where the men were mostly prospectors, I have said: "Friends, while you are trying to 'strike it rich' on earth, remember that there is a richer 'lode' in heaven than can be found here. All who 'prospect' for
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PROSPECTOR ON HIS WAY TO A NEW GOLD FIELD.
PROSPECTOR RETURNING "BUSTED."
MINERS AND PROSPECTORS
it, find it; and in addition to finding the 'lode' they have great joy in their hearts; and while that realized now will not build you a fine mansion here, all who find shall at last see that they have built a mansion in heaven so grand and fair that the man- sions of earth sink into insignificance when com- pared to it.
"Sinner, whether you are a mining sinner or a prospecting sinner, do you wish to be 'staked in' on this 'lode,' and have your name recorded in the Book that our Creator keeps, in which are written the names of all who are interested in it? If so, go to Christ; tell him you have thus far sought the gold and silver that perisheth with the using-the 'veins' of silver and gold-but now you desire an interest in the imperishable riches, and in the fine gold of God's mercy, love and goodness; and, above all, an interest in the atoning blood of Christ.
"Will you do this? Will you mine deep in the love of God or will you be satisfied with what the earth offers, and reject what is offered you by a loving Savior-'the pearl of great price,' 'the one thing needful'?"
Then, as now, it was but one step from the serious to the ridiculous. I remember meeting a prospector, with whom I was well acquainted, just after he had
PIONEERING IN THE SAN JUAN
"made a sale." The amount he had received was not large, but to a man who had been "rustling for a grub stake" for four or five years it was good. Having congratulated him on his success, I said: "I hope you are not forgetting the one thing needful." "One thing needful?" said he slowly, then asked: "What's that, grub?"
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CHAPTER XXI
BUCKSKIN LEGGINGS
"With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firm- ness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work we have begun." -Lincoln.
"Were you the man who left a pair of buckskin leggings at my cabin on the old Uncompahgre trail about twelve years ago?" was the question asked by a miner after I had preached the dedicatory sermon of the new Presbyterian church at Ouray, on the 23d of February, 1890. I replied that I left a pair of buckskin leggings, "red tan," in some cabin on that trail the last trip I made over the range from Ouray to Lake City. He replied: "It was in my cabin that you left them." Some one standing by asked : "Have you the leggings now?"
This conversation was short, but it reminded me of a hard trip. Friends had begged me not to attempt to cross Engineer Mountain that day-at least not without snow-shoes. It was snowing hard in Ouray, and all knew that at an altitude of more than thir- teen thousand feet above sea-level the snow would be several feet deep. When the "Storm King"
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PIONEERING IN THE SAN JUAN
awoke he always made it lively for anyone who tried to visit him in his home on the high ranges or to pass his door. A man looking back over the past can see where he made mistakes. By the time I had walked eight miles up the trail toward the sum- mit of the range, and had reached an altitude of ten thousand feet, it was past noon (had started at 5 a. m.). Coming to a lone cabin, and seeing smoke arising from what was intended for a chimney, I went to the place of entrance and was invited in. Being hungry, after walking through snow that was almost waist-deep-for the storm kept increasing, and the higher I climbed the deeper became the snow -- I entered the cabin and gratefully accepted an invitation to "have something to eat." My leg- gings were wet, so I untied them and placed them before the fireplace to dry.
Dinner over, I started away rather hurriedly, because I was aware that the rest of the trip, or at least to "Rose's Cabin"-below timber line on the Lake City side of the range-would be a hard one, and that no time was to be lost; for if overtaken by night and the range not crossed, it would be terrible.
As I stepped into the snow at the cabin door I went in so deep at the first step that I did not miss my leggings. Nor did I notice that they were gone
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POST OFFICE
FOUR UTE CHIEFS, AGENT AND INTERPRETER.
RESTAURANT
THE FAMOUS ROSE'S CABIN ON ROAD TO SUMMIT OF UNCOMPAHGRE RANGE.
BUCKSKIN LEGGINGS
until my legs began to grow cold; then I was too far away to turn back. In that cabin I left one of the best pair of buckskin leggings ever owned by red or white man in the old Rockies.
The wind had increased. The snow was so much deeper above timber line, that all I could do was to push my way through. A man almost up to his arm-pits in snow, climbing up the side of a moun- tain with the snow clouds enveloping him, doesn't do much walking; it is more push than walk. At times it seemed as though I would never reach the top. I could see but a very short distance and that only by holding my hands to my face. Yet I knew the thing to do was to climb. By pushing ahead with- out getting excited, and by frequent rests, the sum- mit was gained just as the darkness of night began to add to the darkness of the snow-clouds that hung even lower than timber line.
The storm came from the Uncompahgre side of the range; therefore I was able to make my way down the Henson Creek side of the range quite rapidly. By nine o'clock that night I entered a cabin and received the congratulations of what my wife called "some of Mr. Darley's peculiar friends." At noon the next day I reached home with swollen limbs and without my leggings. But the second
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church ever built in Colorado, west of the Sierra Madre range of mountains, was completed; and the next spring a minister was engaged to work in the camp. The Presbyterians built the first and second churches, on the Pacific slope, in Colorado.
Mrs. Darley said she had never seen me look so haggard and weary, although the year before I had walked one hundred and twenty-five miles in five days and four nights and had suffered all that one man could suffer in that long walk and severe storm while crossing the Indian country to preach the Gospel in the "regions beyond."
That eastern readers may know what it meant to cross high ranges when they were covered with deep snow, I copy the following, sent from Ouray to a Denver paper. The paper is dated February 5, 1891: "News has just reached here from Mount Sneffles of the death of four of the Virginius miners, who perished in a snow-slide. They started out from the mine last evening to help bring in Billy Maher, who had been blown up in his cabin about a mile distant. At a point on the mountain, and at an altitude of about thirteen thousand feet, a heavy load of snow was detached and Tom Byron, S. Phillips, Allen McIntyre and John Sanderlin were hurled down the mountain and buried fifty feet beneath the
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BUCKSKIN LEGGINGS
mass, which packed above their bodies as solid as ice. This occurred about ten o'clock last night and the bodies were not recovered until this afternoon. Men worked all night and day with all their power, but could not reach them sooner."
One evening during the seventies, while sitting at table with a number of invited guests, the conversa- tion turned on what had happened the day before. Two prospectors were carried down a mountain side by a snow-slide and buried from five to ten feet; but immediately another slide followed from a greater height, uncovered the men and rolled them out on top of the snow before they were suffocated. They recovered consciousness and reached a cabin where they were cared for. One of the guests said : "No doubt Mr. Darley calls this special provi- dence." Knowing that it was my opportunity for a short talk on special providence, I took advantage of it.
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CHAPTER XXII
GRAND SCENERY
"Nature's bulwarks, built by Time, 'Gainst Eternity to stand, Mountains terribly sublime, Girt the camp on either hand."
-Montgomery.
"Who hath measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, and meted out heaven with the span, and comprehended the dust of the earth in a measure, and weighed the mountains in scales, and the hills in a balance?" -Isaiah 40:12.
"The scenery is awfully grand and it looks as though the devil reigned over all." These words fell from the lips of one of the wealthiest mine own- ers in the San Juan country. More than twenty years have passed since they were repeated to me, as I stood on the steps of the office talking to the superintendent of the mine, who said them in a way that showed their repetition had set him to thinking. I was impressed with the awful grandeur of the scenery and the fact that an intelligent man could see no traces of his Maker in the "awfully grand scenery" that was before him.
At that time, and since then, the words of the Psalmist have seemed to me peculiarly strong:
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CELEBRATED MEARS TOLL ROAD, PROMONTORY POINT.
GRAND SCENERY
"Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
"If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
"If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me."
If a man cannot see the footprints of his Creator in those 'awfully grand," lofty and imposing moun- tains, where on Nature's face can he see them? They, like grand old Ocean, speak in thunder-tones, saying: "Thy God reigneth." True, the devil reigns in the hearts of many dwellers among the mountains in Colorado, but he does not reign over all. God is among our mountains, ruling the same as in other regions. Man cannot find a place upon all God's footstool where God does not reign.
To me it is a precious truth that none can hide from God. Nor are his children, while in the path of duty, ever beyond our gracious heavenly Father's outstretched arms. Those arms are ever around and underneath us as we look for Him. The harder the work and the less encouragement His laborers receive from without, the nearer the blessed Savior comes and the sweeter the communion we hold with Him. My own experience has been that the
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PIONEERING IN THE SAN JUAN
longer the journey, the severer the storm, the less the likelihood of my ever looking again into the faces of the loved ones at home, the closer my Savior seemed to be and the warmer grew my heart, as step by step I worked my way through the deep snow or breasted the mountain stream. If God should lose sight of one of His children for a moment, it will be when His loving heart has changed, His strong arms become weak and His all-seeing eye grown dim.
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