Two Valuable Rifles And A Sharp's Revolver Hung On The
Wall, And The Sash And Badge Of A Scout.
I could not help
looking at "Jim" as he stood talking to me.
He goes mad with
drink at times, swears fearfully, has an ungovernable temper. He
has formerly led a desperate life, and is at times even now
undoubtedly a ruffian. There is hardly a fireside in Colorado
where fearful stories of him as an Indian fighter are not told;
mothers frighten their naughty children by telling them that
"Mountain Jim" will get them, and doubtless his faults are
glaring, but he is undoubtedly fascinating, and enjoys a
popularity or notoriety which no other person has. He offered to
be my guide to the Plains when I go away. Lyman asked me if I
should not be afraid of being murdered, but one could not be
safer than with him I have often been told.
The cold was truly awful. I had caught a chill in the morning
from putting on my clothes before they were dry, and the warmth
of the smoky den was most agreeable; but we had a fearful ride
back in the dusk, a gale nearly blowing us off our horses,
drifting snow nearly blinding us, and the mercury below zero. I
felt as if I were going to be laid up with a severe cold, but the
men suggested a trapper's remedy - a tumbler of hot water, with a
pinch of cayenne pepper in it - which proved a very rapid cure.
They kindly say that if the snow detains me here they also will
remain. They tell me that they were horrified when I arrived, as
they thought that they could not make me comfortable, and that I
had never been used to do anything for myself, and then we
complimented each other all round. To-morrow, weather
permitting, I set off for a ride of 100 miles, and my next letter
will be my last from the Rocky Mountains.
I. L. B.
Letter XVI
A harmonious home - Intense cold - A purple sun - A grim jest - A
perilous ride - Frozen eyelids - Longmount - The pathless
prairie - Hardships of emigrant life - A trapper's advice - The
Little Thompson - Evans and "Jim."
DR. HUGHES'S, LOWER CANYON, COLORADO, December 4.
Once again here, in refined and cultured society, with harmonious
voices about me, and dear, sweet, loving children whose winning
ways make this cabin a true English home. "England, with all thy
faults, I love thee still!" I can truly say,
Where'er I roam, whatever realms I see.
My heart, untraveled, fondly turns to thee.
If it swerved a little in the Sandwich Islands, it is true to the
Pole now! Surely one advantage of traveling is that, while it
removes much prejudice against foreigners and their customs, it
intensifies tenfold one's appreciation of the good at home, and,
above all, of the quietness and purity of English domestic life.
These reflections are forced upon me by the sweet child-voices
about me, and by the exquisite consideration and tenderness which
are the atmosphere (some would call it the hothouse atmosphere)
of this house.
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