DENVER CITY and Auraria are situated, the former below and the latter above the mouth of Cherry Creek, which is here only a dry, sandy channel all this season, though it affords running water further up.* They are, of course, rival cities. Each has about one hundred and fifty houses and shanties of different grade; generally of pine or cottonwood logs, earth-covered, and floorless, with a few respectable frame buildings. Denver is now taking the lead in improvements. A number of good buildings is being erected. Each has its hotel, store, groceries, mechanic shops, and liquor stands in abundance. The Pollock House, in Auraria, is kept in a comfortable and orderly manner by a gentlemanly proprietor. He has opened a large upper room for public worship. Each has its postoffice, claiming to be the only authorized United States postoffice in the country, while some deny the legality of both. Each does an immense business in receiving and forwarding letters, making its own extra charges for express carriage, posting written lists of letters, etc.

     Gambling is carried on on a large scale, and in various forms, in Denver, perhaps in Auraria also, though less openly. The towns constitute the places of arrival and departure, and consequently congregate the unemployed and vicious. There are many worthy and reliable residents, but the better part of the population is in the mines. Still,

the general state of society is orderly and quiet; no civil man need fear interruption. These places will probably continue to constitute the head-quarters for the mining region, though efforts are being made to draw emigration immediately to the base of the mountains, by the establishment of a free ferry below. Lots in Denver sell at from thirty to four hundred dollars.

     Montania, about six miles above Cherry Creek, consists of about twenty vacated cabins. This was the seat of some early mining operations, and considerable time and labor have been expended in prospecting, ditching, etc.; but the diggings upon the Platte and Cherry Creek are now almost entirely abandoned for those in the mountains. Douglas City is placed by the maps below some distance; but we have to return it non est inventus. Golden City, Arapahoe, and Rocky Mountain City, alias Golden Gate, are at the foot of the mountain, and consist mainly, as yet, of assemblages of booths, tents, and wagons, used indiscriminately for purposes of residence or of business. Bowlder City is at the base, some twenty miles lower down. Mountain City is at Gregory's diggings, with about one hundred cabins and innumerable structures of the lighter kind. The South Platte here does not exceed one hundred yards in width, and is easily fordable at low water. There are a good bridge and a good ferry, each with moderate charges. The first aspect of Denver and Auraria is unexpectedly pleasant to the weary Pike's Peaker, and the accommodations quite beyond expectation. Some six or eight small steam sawmills are at work at various points; hitherto, the lumber for building sluices, etc., has mostly been prepared by the whipsaw and broad-ax.

     The Fourth of July was an interesting day in Denver, the first Rocky Mountain celebration of our National Independence. A few days previous I was invited by my friend, Gen. Larimer, formerly of Pittsburg, and late of Nebraska Territory, to attend and participate. The exercises were opened with prayer; the Declaration was read, followed by

a chaste and appropriate oration; intervals were enlivened by music from a band; and all closed with the benediction. No drinking, swearing, carousing--all orderly and quiet.

     The mountain range here presents two separate and parallel ridges, say forty or fifty miles distant from each other; encircled between is what is called the "Middle Park," or "Old Park," in the form of a hollow square. Here is the source of Grand River, or Rio Colorado, which forms at its mouth the Gulf of California. Above and below are "South Park" and "North Park," similarly environed by the mountains. The summit of the eastern ridge is the recognized line between Utah on the west and Kansas and Nebraska east; These summits are regions of perpetual snow. The course of the Platte here is a little east of north, and that of the mountains bears slightly west of north; thus deviating somewhat from a parallel, and widening the intervening space as you go north. Taking Denver and Auraria as the starting-point, it is about fifteen miles to the mountain base. From this to the eastern summit is about forty miles. About half-way up are the principal mountain diggings now worked, ranging through a space of about forty miles from north to south; so that they are about twenty miles from the Utah line. The latitude of Cherry Creek--Denver and Auraria--is thirty-nine degrees, forty-three minutes, fifty-three seconds. The line dividing Kansas and Nebraska is the fortieth parallel. This would fix Denver and Auraria a little over one-fourth of a degree south of the Nebraska line, and embrace nearly or quite all the present diggings in Kansas. Bowlder diggings must be near the line. Some of the recent alleged discoveries are in Nebraska, and a vast field to be explored. The elevation at the base of the mountains is from six to seven thousand feet above tide water, or about five thousand above the country upon the more contiguous points of Missouri River, making an average descent of nearly nine feet per mile. The mining region is mainly watered by Vasquer's Fork, or

Clear Creek, with its small tributaries. It is a rocky, rapid, and almost unfordable mountain current of sixty to one hundred feet wide. It is bridged at several points. The country upon the Platte, for miles up and down, as well as at the base of the mountains, is literally lined with ranches, tents, and wagons, and peopled with human beings.

     Soon after our arrival, news was received of the murder of two men in the mountains by the Utah Indians--Mr. Kennedy, of our neighboring town of Plattesmouth, N. T., and Dr. Shank, late of Council Bluffs. I have since, in the mountains, had a detail of the circumstances from Mr. Slaughter, who was with them, and himself narrowly escaped with life. His statement is before the public. An expedition was hastily gotten up of miners, with the aid of a band of Arapahoes, to go out and chastise them; but it was ill-planned, ill-provisioned, ill-manned, and ended in a general carousal on or near the Snowy Ridge. Several explanations are given. Some say that the Utes are armed and instigated by the Mormons. Others believe that the whole thing was a mere ruse of the Arapahoes, to embroil the whites with the Utes, and thereby secure aid against their deadly enemies; that the offending Indians were really Arapahoes and not Utes. Certain it is, that the two tribes are exceedingly hostile to each other. The Utes--a mean and treacherous tribe--are the superiors in numbers, horsemanship, and knowledge of the mountain passes, where all the fighting is done, and always come off best. Efforts have been made before to enlist the whites against them. But all this is a conjecture.* The Sioux, Cheyennes, and Arapahoes are decidedly a better class of Indians, and exhibit more of competence and comfort than the indigenous tribes nearer the State lines. From long intercourse with most of our Western tribes, I am able to communicate by words and signs with an Indian of almost any tribe.

     ARRIVED at Denver and Auraria, we soon found ourselves recognized and surrounded by acquaintances, with eager inquiries for friends at home, and on the way; ours being the latest and speediest arrival from the States. And, indeed, these scenes of recognition have been repeated every-where, by friends and not friends; those of good and of evil report, whom we had known elsewhere. But it has long been a settled rule with me to regard and treat every man in the character he bears in the community where he now resides, and not in that previously borne. Let bygones be by-gones. If a man is trying to assume a better character, encourage him, unless in the few cases where duty requires an exposure. I must in justice say, however, that the great body of Rocky Mountain miners and settlers are intelligent and worthy men.

     Our first object was to find sustenance for our jaded animals. For this we were compelled to go some four miles up the Platte. Here we encamped with the design of resting. But our resting spell was taken up in repairs, overhauling baggage, attention to team, and sundry camp duties, correspondence, etc.; at intervals, spending what time we could in the towns, gathering items, forming acquaintances, and preparations for our further work. The first Sabbath after our arrival we had notices out for preaching in the towns, morning and afternoon, and an interest seemed to be felt in the matter. But no one was sufficiently interested to make a business of circulating them; and our exceeding modesty, as strangers, had led us, for this time, to commit the arrangement to others.

As the hour approached, finding our congregation likely to be rather slim, I went around to the crowds, however engaged, personally invited them in, and at length succeeded in obtaining a tolerable assemblage. Allen Wiley once said in my hearing, "Methodist preachers are in a pushing world, and they must push too." This applies peculiarly to frontier work, and ever after I practiced upon it. Whenever necessary--for at some points, even here, it is not--I have posted written notices, then mounted a mule and rode around the evening previous to ranches, houses, booths, tents, wagons, liquor stands, and card-tables, and from all these places have invited them out. But one of the most effectual means, after all, is to sing them up; and in this I have a most efficient aid in the fine musical powers of brother Adriance. There is a power in song; and perhaps no where else more felt and seen than here among those so long absent from religions associations. We never failed to collect a group in a short time. At G----- I preached in a large cloth pavilion, called "the round tent," known as a leading gambling establishment. One inquired of me, while I was employed circulating notices, "Will they stop gaming long enough?" They did, but claimed the hour succeeding for their own purposes. I treated them kindly, and they, in return, listened respectfully, and allowed me, without offense, to preach home truths to them in all plainness and fidelity. Right here I made a partial organization of a society. They treated me courteously, and agreed to let me preach there again. Thus, I still keep to the motto, "Homo sum," etc. By the way, I have preached in nearly all the early hotels in Kansas and Nebraska, and not unfrequently in the bar-rooms.

     Time came at length for the removal of our head-quarters; we pulled up stakes and were off for the mountains. A day's drive brought us to the base. Grass was scarce, wood entirely wanting. Withal, we wished to locate our camp as near the diggings, the principal scene of action, as practicable; so we resolved to enter the gulch, or cannon, which
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constitutes the inlet, and proceed as far as we could, knowing that wood and water would be abundant, and hoping to find pasture on the mountain sides. Boldly we advanced, but a very little experience convinced us that courage would avail us nothing; a few jolts and tumbles with our load over the crags and cliffs, a sudden stand-still of our donkey team upon a rocky ascent, simply because they couldn't get up, with a few hundred yards of "prospecting" at the advance scenery, soon convinced us that it was "no go." So, making a virtue of necessity, we summarily backed down, and, with considerable ado, got our wagon headed round, got a drink of water from a clear spring, took in wood for the night, passed out of the gulch at the same door by which we had entered, as bravely as "the King of France with forty thousand men," and sought a spot for repose at the base, putting our animals upon short allowance after a hard day's travel. Since that, we have not undertaken to make our team haul a loaded wagon up the steeps of the Rocky Mountains. Many lessons in mountain traveling have been taken since. On the next day a convenient spot was sought for forage, and found a few miles distant, just at the entrance of a beautiful valley which leads up into the main gulches. There we planted ourselves as our headquarters during our mountain explorations. The site was selected, the wagon drawn up in proper direction, the tent pitched, the mules picketed out, and all arrangements made for a home to which we might go in and out till time should come to strike tent and return to the banks of the Platte. There, patriarchally, I "digged a well," as in primitive nomadic times, yea, several of them, as my weary limbs would now testify. From this spot, still occupied, the present sketch is penned.

      Our temporary residence adjusted, our ranche man left in charge, we--brother A. and myself--the succeeding morning set off for the mountain diggings, he upon his saddle horse, I upon the back of my faithful mule, Bob, a noble steed, over fifteen hands high, safe and sure, but, like others

of his species, somewhat self-willed; each packed to the full measure of comfort, and a little beyond, with provisions, blankets, light camp utensils, and sundry et cœtera (sic) requisite for the trip. At an early hour in the day we re-entered the gulch, memorable as the scene of our former defeat, but in better plight to meet its obstacles, brother A., as is his wont, patiently taking a steady, uniform gait, and I, according to my impulses, rather urging on, and unconsciously--I had almost said instinctively--bringing the spur to bear upon the side of my steed, as crag after crag presented itself and was overcome. Pope's line came forcibly up--

     The first ten miles of the road is up the gulch, crossing and recrossing a little mountain stream perhaps one hundred times, with its rough, steep acclivities and declivities. The mountain spurs on either hand are always "rocky," sometimes bare, generally thinly clad with a growth of small pine, rarely reaching eighteen inches in diameter. Balsam fir is abundant. The timbered lands all the way are said to be already "claimed up." Extensive fires in the mountains have been lately destructive of timber and grass, and several human lives have fallen victims. Here, also, mica or isinglass-stone is found in great quantities, glistening in the dust of the road, and giving it a glossy, velvet-like appearance. Every thing here smacks of gold. Even the bottom of my well "raised the color" to my unpracticed eye. Leaving the gulch, we cross several high spurs difficult in ascent and descent. Here I fell in with a traveling preacher from one of our Conferences, on foot, bearing his pack of some forty or fifty pounds weight heroically and uncomplainingly up the mountain steeps--a new phase of itinerancy. Kindly remembering the injunction, "Bear ye one another's burdens," I took his pack for a time, and added it to my already unwieldy load.

     Soon after, we entered a small, narrow valley, affording for a time an easier ascent and freer breathing. Here the

scenery became magnificent. Masses of rock on either hand rise to an almost bewildering hight (sic) , now in naked grandeur, then crowned with lofty evergreens. I have traversed and admired the Ozarks and the Alleghanies, but never before have I seen any thing to compare with this truly-Alpine scenery. Silently I recurred to the exclamation of the departed Bascom, on taking his first view of the Niagara cataract, " God of grandeur, what a scene!"

     The road presents one continued stream of travel; wagons, carts, footmen, going, returning; horses, mules, oxen, cows, men, packed to the utmost stretch of capacity; breeching to the body of every animal capable of wearing such harness, even sometimes to the riding saddles; the road filled with dust, coal-blackened by the late mountain fires, and visages so begrimed that every downward passenger might well be taken for a collier just emerging from his subterranean cavern. It is computed that five hundred persons pass over this road daily. And this is the "new road," the improved road, the older being almost entirely abandoned because of its still greater difficulty. So passed our first day in the mountains. Weary and jaded, we sought a small secluded vale, picketed our animals, built our fire, took our frugal meal, joined in praise and prayer, and laid ourselves down to rest, our pedestrian itinerant and his comrades being now of our company.

     The night passed well but for the extreme cold, for which our packed bed-robe was insufficient. Aroused by its severity, we would rise, pile on fresh fuel from the fallen pines, light up the whole glen with the blaze, warm ourselves, and lie down again till compelled to repeat the operation; the same scene had to be repeated again and again during our mountain stay. With such "surroundings," a morning lounge has nothing very inviting. It is no boast of superior industry to say that coffee was taken early--this morning I made it myself--and we were again packed and in the saddle --I will not say with the sun, for "sunrise" is a vague term in these mountain recesses. And now again

up and down, over high, rugged spurs for miles. By and by we came to a descent of greater length and difficulty. Slowly and cautiously A. leads his steady horse, while I, less careful or less competent, pertinaciously adhere to the saddle, from a conviction that a mule is not altogether "a vain thing for safety." The descent made, we are at Gregory Diggings.

     NOT contemplating a personal connection with the mining region, my attention had not been particularly turned to its history; and since entering upon the miner's life--for, while here, I claim to be a miner, too, in my department--time has not allowed me. The first knowledge I have of operations is the arrival of the Messrs. Russel and their company, from Georgia, with others from different sections, at Cherry Creek, in June of last year, 1858. Altogether, the number then here was over one hundred; but the number was soon greatly reduced by the return of a large majority. Those who remained, however, were energetic, persevering men, who understood their business. They "prospected" the country bordering on the South Platte, and still on southward, till they reached the borders of New Mexico. Gold was found in various places, especially along the Platte and in the region of Cherry Creek; and this, though in few instances remunerative in amount, sufficed as the foundation of the exaggerated statements that had gained credence in the States, and allured such vast multitudes away from their homes and industrial pursuits. But the problem in the minds of thinking men and experienced miners still remained unsolved: "Whence has this gold drifted?" To them it was evident that richer deposits were somewhere imbedded in more elevated positions. They had prospected in vain southwardly; and now Winter set in and closed their operations. The little band, nothing daunted, spent the Winter at the mouth of Cherry Creek and vicinity. The snows had not fully passed off from the mountain

slopes till these hardy adventurers were again out prospecting. Mr. Gregory, also of Georgia, and others, had been added to their number. And, by the way, the Georgians are decidedly the most successful prospecters and miners in the country. The mines here are said in character very closely to resemble those of Georgia, while they are wholly unlike those of California; and hence a Georgia schooling is of immense advantage, while California experience is of little value, and often positively misleads. In May last Gregory discovered the diggings that bear his name, and have so well remunerated his personal enterprise and perseverance. But these facts are already spread before the public in the report of Mr. Greeley. About the same time, or soon after, the Russels made their discoveries in what is now called Russel's Gulch; the most uniformly remunerative, I think, of any yet found; owing, in part, doubtless, to the fact that they are the best worked. Since that, discovery after discovery has been made; diggings after diggings, bearing different names, and many without name.

     Immediately in the diggings, the whole space is taken up for miles in "claims" of one hundred feet by fifty, these are duly recorded by an appointed officer; while on every gulch, and ravine, and branch are seen tents, mines, sluices, at greater or smaller intervals, and the mountain sides literally dug into holes, searching for quartz leads. Sluices, long-toms, and rockers are well manned, and along the brooks are seen prospecters with their single panfuls of gravel, or decomposed quartz, washing, sifting, examining for the precious metal. I was forcibly reminded of Dr. Clarke's comment upon "Epeuvâte tas ypagas." John v, 39. Machinery is greatly needed and will soon be supplied. A large number of quatz-mills have been sent for. Then the material and the water have to be brought together. Slides bring the quartz down the mountain sides to the water; it is hauled in wagons and carts; it is packed on mules, oxen, and the shoulders of men. Ditches, often of considerable length, depth, and cost, convey the water to the sluices

dams are constructed, and the channels of streams turned; water-wheels are used where there is a sufficient stream, and the water elevated in buckets; blasting is required in the leads; tunneling under rocks is sometimes necessary in ditching. The labor is immense and of the severest character; it is one continued scene of bustle and activity. Miners complain that they easily "get out of breath" in walking or laboring; they can not perform as much labor as elsewhere. This is easily accounted for by the rarefied condition of the atmosphere at this elevation. I thought I experienced the same thing in speaking, but I do not learn that it has any bad influence upon health.

     It is difficult to be secreted, and almost absolutely impossible to be lost long, oven in the mountain recesses, till some one will find you. Of this we had proof. Endeavoring to follow directions one day to a point we wished to reach, some eight or ten miles distant, we missed our way ascended with great difficulty, through a thick undergrowth of pine, an elevated mountain summit. The prospect was grand. Hard by, and almost upon an apparent level with our own position were seen the "eternal snows;" while below yawned immense labyrinths, revealing, here and there, the smoke of some miner's tent, miles in the distance beneath. Surely, thought we, here is a spot where " our right there is none to dispute;" we shall not see the face of man here. I had almost involuntarily imitated the soldier who, having strayed from camp, and gained a commanding eminence, transported with the prospect cried out: "ATTENTION THE UNIVERSE--BY KINGDOMS ON THE RIGHT WHEEL--MARCH." Bewildered as we were, and unknowing when or where we should find ourselves, we deliberately loosed our fatigued and almost famished animals, and turned them out to graze upon a rich spot of food, while we enjoyed the prospect. Soon our reverie was broken by a noise. "What's that?" said A. "A fellow whistling," I replied. "O, no," said he, "it is some animal!" Just then a company of prospecters came up, and the point was settled.

The roads and trails around the mountains are deceptive in course and distance, as we more than once found to our cost; not unlike the streets of the good city of Boston. Take one that seems to lead in the right direction, and it is very uncertain when or where you will come out.

     Some days were agreeably spent here and in the vicinity, visiting different localities, and enjoying the camp hospitality of friends known and cherished elsewhere. Some abatement, however, was found in the unpleasant necessity of retiring at night some miles to find a scanty subsistence for our animals, and lying by them in the cold mountain air, fresh from regions of snow. Severe as it was, it did not affect our health.

     Of our Sabbath services I have already spoken, through another channel. Our arrival, just when we did, seemed to be Heaven-directed. Here is the great mining center, and by far the largest population. Among them are many Church members; Methodists of all types known in the country; Baptists, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, with a number of preachers--miners--of the different persuasions, serving them alternately. Preachers were expected from our Conference, but as yet in vain. The people were clamorous for organization, but no one felt authorized to go forward, at least as far as Methodism was concerned. A day was at length announced for organizing "a Church;" but there seemed no definite understanding as to what denominational form it should assume, and all appeared diffident in taking the lead. On the Friday preceding the appointed Sabbath we arrived. Almost my first step was to wait upon several of the ministers. Rev. Mr. P., of the Methodist Episcopal Church South, a Georgian, highly esteemed here as a minister, was to preach in the morning. He courteously invited me to take his place. All welcomed us cordially. No question was raised as to the character of the organization. All assented, the very large majority being members of our Church. We went forward in the duties of the day. The morning preaching was in the
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crowded, dusty street, to a large and orderly congregation the afternoon experience meeting in a retired spot upon the rocky seats of a mountain spur; the vows of reconsecration, the weepings, the rejoicings, will not be forgotten in time. There are probably one hundred members of our Church at this point. Of this number nearly one half united at once, with some probationers. The organization is imperfect, and is left in charge of the preacher having charge of the " Rocky Mountain mission," the name assigned to that part of the work. I carefully took down the names and late residences of all the applicants for membership, and left a copy for record. In taking the name and residence of an interesting young man, I was deeply affected to find the son of one of my best and dearest friends of bygone years, brother B. T. of Jefferson county, Indiana, a devoted man of God, who passed from earth to heaven during the past year, while a number of others had been in my charges in various places, some in official standing. But for the arrival of an authorized person there would, perhaps, have been a temporary fusion of the different shades of Methodism, as has since been the case with some other Churches there. On Monday morning a quarterly meeting conference was organized. Truly "the fields are white unto harvest."

     By common consent the question of slavery is not raised; the antislavery position of the population being taken pro confesso.

     OUR time allotted for stay at the Gregory Diggings being expired, we took up the line of march for the more southerly portions of the mining district--those more recently discovered. First came the Central Diggings; next we entered Russel's, of which I have before spoken. Here I found another member of an Annual Conference, a stout Hibernian, in a pit, wielding the shovel most manfully--since gone to California. At this place I spent some time; purchased some dust and a small nugget as specimens; procured a specimen of lead quartz, also of burnt quartz, and of rose or blossom quartz; the last two being mere surface indications by which prospecters are guided in their researches. Passing these, we laid our course for the diggings on Clear Creek, which we had failed to reach the week previous, by missing our way, as stated before. This time we took the beaten trail down a gulch, over almost impracticable spurs and crags, so steep that, when we stopped to corelle at noon, we could scarcely find a spot where our baggage would lie without roiling to the bottom. The practice is to take the wagon or cart in with the team as far as possible, then unload, and pack through on the backs of beasts, or the shoulders of men, to the places otherwise inaccessible, leaving the wagon, if need be, cabled to a pine-tree by a log-chain, lest it should incontinently rush to the bottom by the power of gravitation. While coralling in this narrow defile we were passed by a large train of Mexicans, packing flour from New Mexico. Large quantities are brought in by them. The flour is coarse, but

sound and sweet, and sells several dollars lower per hundred than that from the States. It is packed mostly upon very small jacks, each bearing a sack of about two hundred pounds, with one driver to every five or six animals. My mule was so taken up with his relatives on the long-eared side, that he lost his appetite for dinner. He evinces great affection for his kindred of the full blood on either side, but very little regard for his own class, the hybrid race. In this, perhaps, he is not peculiar.

     While passing down the tedious, winding way, we encountered a thunder-storm, with a brisk shower of rain, lasting about an hour. Rain seldom falls in or near these mountains, though the clouds gather almost daily, with frequent thunder and lightning. From our position at the base, since our return, we have seen the rain falling in the mountains almost daily. It was unexpected, and found the miners in a very exposed condition. For a few days severe disease--flux--prevailed with considerable fatality, but soon abated. We had light showers at the base.

     I have mentioned Clear Creek as a rapid mountain stream, carrying a large body of water, but rolling it off so impetuously over the rocks and bowlders, that it is compressed to a width of some sixty feet--a dangerous stream to ford. On its banks and its smaller tributaries, for many miles up and down, the miners are thickly strewed. Most of these works are in an incipient stage, not fully tested. The uppermost are Spanish Diggings, with a line extending some six miles up, on both sides of the stream. Here are some Spaniards at work--from whom the name--with many Americans. Here I found a court in session, and a trial going on. Below this, crossing to the south side, we come to Jackson's Diggings, at the mouth of Chicago Creek; these also extending quite a distance up the latter stream. Crossing Chicago Creek, we ascend a high mountain, and take our course down into the Clear Creek gulch again, passing for miles through a succession of new diggings without name; over almost impracticable trails on

the mountain sides, but still clinging closely to the back of my donkey, rather than trust myself to pedestrian safety. In this deep ravine we spent one night, within striking distance of the claim of some friends whom we were seeking; but night closing in, and the way, as we learned, precipitous and dangerous, we were forced to halt; brother A. kindling a fire and lying by the animals, and myself seeking a shelter in the camp of a hospitable Missourian. Off early in the morning, we found the way as described. A short, rough ride brought us to Buckeye Diggings, a name significant of the occupants, where we found our friends, with whom we rested a season. This is a new place; miners just getting to work.

     Great differences exist in the modus operandi of the miners. Our Missouri host of last night was discouraged, doing little; water in his pit, and tools lying neglected in the water. Soon after leaving him my attention was arrested by superior-looking machinery. A wheel was revolving in the rapid current; a shaft extending to the pit; another wheel attached with band and buckets, upon the principle of the chain-pump, bailing the water out, and a lone Yankee seated hard by, and watching the process with all imaginable sang froid. Other fixtures about the sluices gave evidence of genius and of enterprise. Approaching and saluting him, I inquired: "From what point do the miners in these diggings hail?" "Different States," was the brisk reply; "some from Wisconsin, some from Missouri; I am from Connecticut." I could but stop and relate to him the anecdote of M. De Tocqueville, winding up with his remark: "Dat Con-nec-ti-coot von great place." Others picking, panning, pumping, spading, bailing; losing half of their time, and much of their dust; he makes the current and his machinery do a large proportion of his labor.

     Passing on further, saw a man, apparently seventy or eighty years of age, leaning upon his staff. Strange! "What," thought I, "has brought him here?" Who knows? Perhaps the strong workings of parental affec-

tion. Now and then a tent or booth is passed, where superior order and neatness reign. A cowbell tinkles; the crow and cackle of Shanghais are heard. Soon all is explained. A neatly-attired lady appears as the presiding genius of the institution, moving gracefully about her domestic avocations; a more comfortable phase of mining life. And this is right. If men will go, their wives should accompany them. Left by themselves, men degenerate rapidly; become rough, harsh, slovenly--almost brutish. Every frontier-man knows this. Society of this kind is next to intolerable. Men need the restraining, elevating influence of female society. Women bear up under the hardships of frontier life as well or better than men. There are more females here than I should have supposed, especially in the towns.

     I have already spoken of the large number of intelligent, well-informed men in the country. Whoever comes here expecting to find an ignorant community in which to play his part, will be sadly mistaken. A spirit of active enterprise and adventure is a leading characteristic. Some, doubtless, were happy and prosperous at home; but, could the secret promptings of each heart be read, there would probably be revealed, in a large number of cases, as the moving cause of the separation from home and friends, disappointments, embarrassments, domestic griefs, and unhappiness in various forms; many are, doubtless, the sons of misfortune. Often I think I read it in the countenance. But this fact, if known to be true, would only increase the interest felt in their behalf by a benevolent and sympathizing heart; and I feel assured that it renders them more accessible to kind and well-directed religious appeals.

     The legal profession is largely represented, with quite a respectable proportion of the clergy of different Churches, who, though engaged in secular pursuits, are generally respected as ministers. But the doctors beat them all. Signs of "Dr." stick out from cabins, shanties, tents, and wagons, and the title is heard in almost every company in

the diggings. A wag at Cherry Creek said that he called out "Doc." in the street, and eighteen men turned round in response.

     In the published report of Mr. Greeley, Indianians figure largely among the successful early adventurers. While at Gregory's, and elsewhere, I sought and found many fellow-Hoosiers, but could not find the lucky ones. I suppose they had "made their pile," and left. Illinois leads in numbers, Missouri in stampeders, Georgia in successful prospecters and miners; Iowa, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Michigan, Kansas, and Nebraska are fairly represented, with a "smart sprinkling" from other States, Middle, North, and East. There are a great many Mexicans coming and going, generally quiet and well-behaved. A very large proportion of the population are men in middle life, with quite a number of men of fifty and sixty years of age. Gray hairs and furrowed cheeks are common. No schools are established yet; but they are contemplated soon.

     FROM isolated facts it is sometimes hazardous to draw general conclusions. So from the known and signal success of a few miners, it will not do to infer positively the future fate of the vast multitudes who may hereafter be allured from their homes, to engage in the doubtful enterprise. Doubtful and precarious it always is. The history of the mining enterprise, so far as I have studied it, has been any thing else but gratifying in its results to the great mass of those personally engaged in it; especially in the incipient stages of an undertaking. Mr. Greeley, in his very impartial and cautious report given to the public, has presented some instances of early, marked success. I might add others of more recent occurrence; but I shall not. For, to balance these, I know not how many hundreds or thousands of cases of disappointment and loss, of personal and domestic suffering, and even desperation, there are that will never meet the public eye. What further and richer fields yet remain unrevealed, or when the enterprise may be checked up by sudden and unexpected failures, I can not divine. Miners and others will form their judgments. The problem will be solved. The exploration will be made, at whatever expense of money, or labor, or life; embracing probably hundreds of miles of the mountain range, and occupying years to come. Should the stores of hidden ore be found extensive and permanently productive, a mighty tide of emigration will set in; these mountain ranges, hitherto dreaded and shunned, as only a barrier to social and commercial intercourse, will teem with hardy and enter-

prising inhabitants; a State Government, and perhaps several, will be found midway the Mississippi and the Pacific; railway facilities will be demanded with an urgency that will compel their construction, despite the tardiness of mercenary legislation; and the great break between the now disjointed portions of our continent be filled up; not with an agricultural people, for the country will not admit of this, but with capitalists, who will draw their needed supplies from the agricultural regions most contiguous, creating a counter-market, enhancing the value of lands, and thus contributing to advance the general prosperity. The proceeds of the sales of public lands, hitherto deemed worthless, will pay again and again for constructing all the railroads needed. The mining business will assume a more regular, systematic form, and be attended with more uniform if with less brilliant results. If, on the contrary, the golden deposits should prove limited and unremunerative, or to be lodged at such depths and screened by such obstructions as to elude the keen search of the gold-hunter, the enterprise must in process of time be given over, and these Alpine wastes be again consigned to the roving savage and the beast of prey.

     As yet, a very large share of those in the mines have realized nothing. The work is in its incipiency. Nine-tenths of the miners are just commencing, and have not yet tested the fruitfulness of their claims nor their own capacity to manage them. The many are stimulated by the success of the few; and so long as they can "raise the color" they do not despond. "The gold is here," say they, and each one sees no reason why himself should not be the lucky finder. With few exceptions, all seem in good spirits; all speak hopefully of their claims. Meanwhile their private stocks of provision are growing less and less daily. Many have no money; and upon their success it depends, whether they shall have means to return home or to Winter here, or whether they shall be unable to do the one or the other.

     Not every man--not every industrious, enterprising

man--I might as well say at once, not one man in twenty is fit to be a miner; for to all the qualities of mind and body requisite for success in other business pursuits must be added the invincible perseverance, the almost reckless spirit of adventure, the desperate, hang-on determination to hazard the last die and strain his luck to the utmost--I had almost said, of the gamester; not, however, confounding moral aspects. Were I a miner, I would stay and work for life. Were I in the enjoyment of a peaceful and quiet home, or in the road to its attainment, I would stay there and take the surer, safer road to competence. Not a few have fallen. A grave, now and then, by the way-side, with simple stake and pencil inscription, marks the last resting-place of some departed husband, father, brother, friend.

     A tribute is especially due the morals of the Rocky Mountain miners in one particular. "Our 'Creek' runs 'Clear' on the Sabbath," said one to me. alluding to Clear Creek, which, with its tributaries, supplies the sluices and washes the products of the mines. Turbid and dark, unfit for use during the six working days, on the Sabbath its pure and invigorating current, fresh from the mountain snows, flows bright and silvery. The thousands of laborers above have suspended their toil and are enjoying a season of rest on God's holy day; like the Iron City standing proudly at the head of the noble Ohio, six days and nights belching forth its flames, and with its dark columns of smoke enveloping the whole city and enshrouding its laborious inhabitants in gloom at midday, but on the dawn of the Lord's day all these clouds swept away, and the sun shining brightly on the day of Sabbath rest; thus, as I have said to them, giving them one reason to love and cherish this institution of God above their fellow-men elsewhere.

      Whatever may be said of other aspects of the case, the Church has a great work to do here. That point is settled. "A great door and effectual is opened "--"and there are" few "adversaries"suddenly, mysteriously opened, and it were faithlessness to Christ's cause to neglect it. Thousands

are here. Thousands more are coming, whether we advise it or not. They all have souls, all are the purchase of Christ's blood, all traveling to the bar of God. Many of them are our brethren, Christians, Methodists; some are humble seekers of religion, as we have cause to know; some are, even there, struggling to break away from habits of dissipation and rise to a better life. They are accessible as other men, nay, in some respects more so, from the peculiar circumstances thrown around them, if rightly approached. They want the Word of Life. They must have it. Let none stand at a distance, coldly calculate the cost, and, like the miner standing on his claim, ask, "Will it pay?" "That's none of your business," said Wellington to a young divine who asked his opinion as to the probable success of the British missions in India; "your business is to obey orders, and your orders are to 'go into all the world and preach the Gospel.'" But it will pay, it is now paying, feeble as is the beginning, in the spiritual edification, improvement, and perseverance of our people here, in saving youth, the children of the Church, from destruction, in leavening this rising community with a healthful moral and religious influence. And it will pay eventually, should success attend, in remunerative contributions to the fund that has aided them in the hour of their struggle, for miners are proverbially liberal. More men, too, will be wanted for the work. Let none dread the distance nor the privations; there are some truly, but what of that, even though mountains of difficulty were in the way of the salvation of souls? I find, however, upon a near approach, that, the journey once over, the actual privations are fewer, and outward comforts and privileges greater than I have found in any one of my previous fields of frontier labor when first entered upon. Get ready, then, for an appointment, and let your name be recorded on the journal of the first session of "Rocky Mountain Annual Conference."

     From Buckeye Diggings another stretch along a narrow defile, overhanging precipices above, deep gulch of the

stream beneath, and we leave the diggings and ascend a high rocky summit; am almost un-muled in the ascent; back off, try it again and succeed. Up and down again, now once more apparently almost in reach of the "eternal snows;" the clouds to which we are wont to look up are seen resting beneath the mountain brow; then descending into a deep, dark ravine, we at length enter a pleasant valley, the only one worth the name that I have seen in the mountains. Another reach, and the noble Platte with its embryo cities heaves in view. Down, down, down, and still down, down, further, steeper, more sidelong, fragments of wrecks by luckless teamsters, yet again down, down, we are in Platte Valley. A pleasant ride of a few miles brings us into camp, weary and jaded, minus some mule flesh and some needful articles of personal equipage, plus some lessons in mountain traveling. But other duties press; unfinished as the "Trip to the Mountains" is, the pen must be laid aside, perchance not again to be resumed on this theme.

© 2003 for the NEGenWeb Project by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller.