H 



JULY 20, FRIDAY. 



Accompanied by Osborn, we left in the morning, and re- 

 traced our way to Granite. Leaving after dinner we fol- 

 lowed the Hayden trail straight over the mountains. After 

 a very rough ride, in which we came near losing our way 

 from the scarcity of trail-marks, we finally emerged into the 

 trail leading over the Weston Pass. Following this down the 

 mountain, we soon were out on the level tract of South Park 

 on our way for Fairplay. We reached there at 9 P.M., and, 

 much to our surprise, found that our afternoon ride had been 

 thirty-eight miles instead of eighteen, as we had expected. 



JULY 21, SATURDAY. 



We travelled over the now familiar road between Fairplay 

 and Alma, and just before we came to Hoosier Pass we were 

 overtaken by a worn-out and dilapidated-looking individual 

 who entertained us by his interesting reminiscences of fron- 

 tier life. He led us over Fremont's trail of 1853, instead of 

 the regular pass road, and made the trip to Breckenridge 

 very pleasant by his company. Here we discovered that 

 our fellow-traveller was the celebrated " Dick Allen," of the 

 Fairplay Sentinel. After leaving the summit of the pass we 

 descended into the valley of the Blue River, which we fol- 

 lowed to the little town of Breckenridge, twenty-six miles from 

 Fairplay. The first thing we saw was the grim face of Gen. 

 Logan on the piazza, where he was surrounded by a crowd 

 of admirers. Judge Silverthorn, who was the owner of this 

 hotel, said that the house was full, but if we could sleep in 

 the " corral" we might stay. We examined it and accepted 

 the offer. It was in the upper story of the establishment, 

 under the roof. While we were ridding ourselves of our 

 numerous packages, the Judge disappeared. We found on 

 going down that a drunken fellow had been behaving un- 

 seemly in the street, and that our little shrivelled-up judicial 

 authority had made out a warrant, served it himself, and seiz- 

 ing the prisoner by the back of the neck, had kicked him up 

 the side of a hill to the calaboose, although he had complained 

 of being very ill a few minutes before. This little affair gave 

 rise to a trial, which of course we attended. Judge Rieland 

 read from a large and formidable-looking document, " Gibbs, 



