And
so they went on. At last they partially agreed on a route - "the
worst road in the Rocky Mountains," the old hunter said, with two
feet of snow upon it, but a hunter had hauled an elk over part of
it, at any rate. The upshot of the whole you shall have in my
next letter.
I. L. B.
Letter XI
Tarryall Creek - The Red Range - Excelsior - Importunate
pedlars - Snow and heat - A bison calf - Deep drifts - South
Park - The Great Divide - Comanche Bill - Difficulties - Hall's
Gulch - A Lord Dundreary - Ridiculous fears.
HALL'S GULCH, COLORADO, November 6.
It was another cloudless morning, one of the many here on which
one awakes early, refreshed, and ready to enjoy the fatigues of
another day. In our sunless, misty climate you do not know the
influence which persistent fine weather exercises on the spirits.
I have been ten months in almost perpetual sunshine, and now a
single cloudy day makes me feel quite depressed. I did not leave
till 9:30, because of the slipperiness, and shortly after
starting turned off into the wilderness on a very dim trail.
Soon seeing a man riding a mile ahead, I rode on and overtook
him, and we rode eight miles together, which was convenient to
me, as without him I should several times have lost the trail
altogether.
