Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Reminiscences of a trip to Pike’s Peak and down the Rio Grande in the year 1859, at the time of the Pikes Peak gold craze (Peter Westerlund)
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not already, reclaim these lands, which are very
productive, wherever water can be obtained for
irrigation.
Well, as I was saying, we were at Sweet Water
River, but found not the least trace of what we were
looking for. Even our old Californian acknowledged
that lie made a mistake in advising us to come here.
What to do and where to go now was the next
question, Here we camped for over one week, consulting
our guide-book and maps and figuring how far we
were from Pike’s Peak.
After a few days of rest, three or four of us
decided to walk to an elevation we saw clue south of
our camp, We thought it was three or four miles
off and so started in the morning expecting to be
back by noon. We walked till it was away past
noon and then were were not more than halfway.
We decided not to go farther, but sat down to rest.
Andrew shot a sage hen which we prepared and
fried for our dinner. I mention this incident to show
how deceiving the distances are in the mountains.
One night our cattle tools a notion to start back
for home. It happened this way: It was a
moonlight night and about two o’clock the guard called
me to take his place. J dressed and came out.
Looking around, I was not sure that I saw the cattle. I
saw the mules, which were staked with long ropes,
but where were the cattle? “They are over there,
don’t you see they are lying down,” said the guard,
ir ’lr f kJ f
pointing to some sage bushes about 4(1 rods off. “All
right,” I said, but I was not satisfied. I went to see
and sure enough it was sage bushes he had been
guarding. It had rained in the evening and as I was
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