Their Pale Faces Told That
They Were "Tenderfeet," And One Could See There Was A Sad Lacking Of
Brains All Around.
The road comes across a valley the first ten or twelve miles, and then
runs into a magnificent canon that is sixteen miles long, called
Prickly-Pear Canon.
As I wrote some time ago, everything is brought up
to this country by enormous ox trains, some coming from the railroad
at Corinne, and some that come from Fort Benton during the Summer,
having been brought up by boat on the Missouri River. In the canons
these trains are things to be dreaded. The roads are very narrow and
the grades often long and steep, with immense boulders above and
below.
We met one of those trains soon after we entered the canon, and at the
top of a grade where the road was scarcely wider than the stage itself
and seemed to be cut into a wall of solid rock. Just how we were to
pass those huge wagons I did not see. But the driver stopped his
horses and two of the men got out, the third stopping on the step and
holding on to the stage so it was impossible for me to get out, unless
I went out the other door and stood on the edge of an awful precipice.
The driver looked back, and not seeing me, bawled out, "Where is the
lady?" "Get the lady out!" The man on the step jumped down then, but
the driver did not put his reins down, or move from his seat until he
had seen me safely on the ground and had directed me where to stand.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 218 of 410
Words from 58495 to 58774
of 110651
