But the truth of the
proverbial saying, "There is no God west of the Missouri" is
everywhere manifest.
The "almighty dollar" is the true divinity,
and its worship is universal. "Smartness" is the quality thought
most of. The boy who "gets on" by cheating at his lessons is
praised for being a "smart boy," and his satisfied parents
foretell that he will make a "smart man." A man who overreaches
his neighbor, but who does it so cleverly that the law cannot
take hold of him, wins an envied reputation as a "smart man," and
stories of this species of smartness are told admiringly round
every stove. Smartness is but the initial stage of swindling,
and the clever swindler who evades or defines the weak and often
corruptly administered laws of the States excites unmeasured
admiration among the masses.[20]
[20] May, 1878. - I am copying this letter in the city of San
Francisco, and regretfully add a strong emphasis to what I have
written above. The best and most thoughtful among Americans
would endorse these remarks with shame and pain. - I. L. B.
I left Deer Valley at ten the next morning on a glorious day,
with rich atmospheric coloring, had to spend three hours sitting
on a barrel in a forge after I had ridden twelve miles, waiting
while twenty-four oxen were shod, and then rode on twenty-three
miles through streams and canyons of great beauty till I reached
a grocery store, where I had to share a room with a large family
and three teamsters; and being almost suffocated by the curtain
partition, got up at four, before any one was stirring, saddled
Birdie, and rode away in the darkness, leaving my money on the
table! It was a short eighteen miles' ride to Denver down the
Turkey Creek Canyon, which contains some magnificent scenery, and
then the road ascends and hangs on the ledge of a precipice 600
feet in depth, such a narrow road that on meeting a wagon I had
to dismount for fear of hurting my feet with the wheels. From
thence there was a wonderful view through the rolling Foot Hills
and over the gray-brown plains to Denver. Not a tree or shrub
was to be seen, everything was rioting in summer heat and
drought, while behind lay the last grand canyon of the mountains,
dark with pines and cool with snow. I left the track and took a
short cut over the prairie to Denver, passing through an
encampment of the Ute Indians about 500 strong, a disorderly and
dirty huddle of lodges, ponies, men, squaws, children, skins,
bones, and raw meat.
The Americans will never solve the Indian problem till the Indian
is extinct. They have treated them after a fashion which has
intensified their treachery and "devilry" as enemies, and as
friends reduces them to a degraded pauperism, devoid of the very
first elements of civilization. The only difference between the
savage and the civilized Indian is that the latter carries
firearms and gets drunk on whisky. The Indian Agency has been a
sink of fraud and corruption; it is said that barely thirty per
cent of the allowance ever reaches those for whom it is voted;
and the complaints of shoddy blankets, damaged flour, and
worthless firearms are universal. "To get rid of the Injuns" is
the phrase used everywhere. Even their "reservations" do not
escape seizure practically; for if gold "breaks out" on them they
are "rushed," and their possessors are either compelled to accept
land farther west or are shot off and driven off. One of the
surest agents in their destruction is vitriolized whisky. An
attempt has recently been made to cleanse the Augean stable of
the Indian Department, but it has met with signal failure, the
usual result in America of every effort to purify the official
atmosphere. Americans specially love superlatives. The phrases
"biggest in the world," "finest in the world," are on all lips.
Unless President Hayes is a strong man they will soon come to
boast that their government is composed of the "biggest
scoundrels" in the world.
As I rode into Denver and away from the mountains the view became
glorious, as range above range crowned with snow came into sight.
I was sure that three glistening peaks seventy miles north were
the peerless shapeliness of Long's Peak, the king of the Rocky
Mountains, and the "mountain fever" returned so severely that I
grudged every hour spent on the dry, hot plains. The Range
looked lovelier and sublimer than when I first saw it from
Greeley, all spiritualized in the wonderful atmosphere. I went
direct to Evans's house, where I found a hearty welcome, as they
had been anxious about my safety, and Evans almost at once
arrived from Estes Park with three elk, one grizzly, and one
bighorn in his wagon. Regarding a place and life one likes (in
spite of all lessons) one is sure to think, "To-morrow shall be
as this day, and much more abundant"; and all through my tour I
had thought of returning to Estes Park and finding everything
just as it was. Evans brought the unwelcome news that the goodly
fellowship was broken up. The Dewys and Mr. Waller were in
Denver, and the house was dismantled, Mr. and Mrs. Edwards alone
remaining, who were, however, expecting me back. Saturday,
though like a blazing summer day, was wonderful in its beauty,
and after sunset the afterglow was richer and redder than I have
ever seen it, but the heavy crimson betokened severe heat, which
came on yesterday, and was hardly bearable.
I attended service twice at the Episcopal church, where the
service was beautifully read and sung; but in a city in which men
preponderate the congregation was mainly composed of women, who
fluttered their fans in a truly distracting way. Except for the
church-going there were few perceptible signs of Sunday in
Denver, which was full of rowdies from the mountain mining camps.
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