382 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
[Nov. U, 1896. 
A TENDERFOOT IN COLORADO. 
This ia an attempt to describe an expedition after elk, 
deer and other game to the extreme northwest corner of 
Colorado. It is not intended as a manual for experi- 
enced sportsmen, nor to take the place of Van Dyke's 
" Still Hunter " or Roosevelt's graphic books, nor will the 
skilled Western hunter find in it any suggestions by 
which he may guide his future career. It is a record of 
the personal experience of a tenderfoot, who had shot 
some deer and caught some trout in less favored regions, 
and who writes with the earnest desire, which will doubt- 
less prove fruitless, to give his own kind of sportsmen 
some idea of the charm of the wild portion of the West- 
ern country, and of the pleasures which may still be 
found there. A portion of my experiences have been 
already published, " Impressions of a Tenderfoot," For- 
est AND Stream, December 8, 1894, but I hope that a 
more detailed account will not be uninteresting. Should 
it prove so, the fault will be in my lack of ability as a 
word painter and not in the real charm of the things I 
am trying to depict. 
It was in the faU of 1894, and I was invited to join a 
party already established in Routt county, Colorado, and 
reported to be camped on the eastern slope of "Anita" 
or " Bear's Ears " Peak in the Elkhead Mountains. My 
personal outfit, which proved entirely satisfactory, was 
about as follows : 
One Winchester repeater, model 1886, with Lyman sights. 
Two hundred cartridges, .45-90-300, solid ball. 
One stout jackknife. One compass. 
One suit heavy woolen clothing. 
One pair heavy woolen trousers, extra. 
Two pairs of heavy shoes, with soft hob-nails. 
Lot of heavy and medium weight flannels. 
Two heavy sweaters, much more useful than an overcoat. 
Heavy flannel shirts and worsted socks. 
Brown sloxich hat. 
One pair canvas leggings. 
Two pairs heavy dogskin gloves for riding. 
Camp mattress, with cover and straps to roll. 
Two pairs heavy blankets; one pan: made into a sleeping bag. 
One small feather pillow. 
Cigars, matches, eic. 
One canvas war bag, about 2ft. 6in. X 4tt. 6in. Catch all. 
One possible sack, 1ft. X 3ft., for small articles. 
There were to be three of us in the field and we had 
contracted with Mr. J. W. Baxter, of Glenwood Springs, 
Col., for the general outfit needed; this consisted of about 
the following, and was all furnished at a fixed and very 
reasonable price per day. 
Mr. Baxter himself as chief guide. 
Wallace Baxter, guide and horse-wrangler. 
Cale, cook — I do not know his last name. 
These men were admirable in their respective depart- 
ments, and were individually a fine lot of fellows. They 
were as free and equal as the Declaration of Independ- 
ence, Ready, able and willing to do the work they had 
contracted for, but not considering that they were in any 
way inferior to the other American citizens who formed 
the party of the second part (and they were exactly right), 
faithful, untiring, experienced, good-natured, quiet and 
soft-spoken, not one using liquor or tobacco, on the whole 
as good men as could have been found, if not better than 
any others. Cale is worthy of a chapter to himself. A 
big, burly fellow, with a great red mustache hanging 
over his mouth, white slouch hat on the back of his head , 
leather-fringed chapparejoa and Mexican spurs. When 
he bestrode a broncho, Swung a riata in his right hand, 
held the reins high in his left, cowboy fashion, and sent 
his bucking, squealing moimt over logs, brush ahd rocks, 
he looked more like a bandit than one of the peaceful pro- 
fession. But how he could cook! Shall I ever forget his 
blacktail steaks, his elk soup, and last, but not least, his 
flapjacks — just the size of the long-handled frying-pan, 
and turned over by a toss into the air. Nothing was ever 
better, if so good. 
Bat I have got away from the outfit, and m\ist come 
back to business again. 
Three tents, about lOxSft.; sheet iron cook stove, four 
folding chairs, two camp-stools, table (this consisted of 
only the top and cross pieces, the legs being cut anywhere 
and driven into the ground until level). Pots, pans, ket- 
tles, etc., packed in stove. Knives, forks, plates, cups, 
etc., for six. One hundred dollars worth of supplies, 
which we paid for. Pork, flour, potatoes, canned goods, 
jellies, spices, caviar, pickles, beef extract, etc. No 
whisky; you do not want it at that altitude, except for 
medicine. The beef extract is much better. 
Twenty-four bronchos, with saddles, pack-saddles, etc. 
Of this lot of horses six were constantly in use under sad- 
dle, fourteen carried packs and four were extra horses. 
No feed is carried. At night the horses are simply un- 
packed or unsaddled and turned loose. They find their 
own food and rest. One of them carries a bell, and the 
bunch can generally be trusted to stay pretty close to- 
gether and not to stray very far away. This trust, in the 
latter particular, is not always deserved, and then the 
guides have a big job on hand and traveling must be sus- 
pended until the drove is found and driven back into the 
corral. These horses are half wild and will rarely submit 
to be caught singly ; so the first job after going into camp, 
when the tents have been pitched and the fire lighted, is 
i;o build an inclosure of brush, limbs, ropes and other ob- 
stacles, into wuich the herd may be driven wh^n wanted. 
The pack horses when traveling carry about 150 lbs. each, 
sometimes more, and string out into a long line in Indian 
\t the head of the procession goes the chief guide, 
■ way, with a keen eye for known landmarks 
•lilities of wood, water and grass. After 
v train, each horse following in the 
iy,^ -^ding, and making the same turns 
and tv, '/mes the horse- wrangler, driv- 
ing up the - looking out for accidents, and 
only too apt to ounded by a blue and glittering 
cloud of strong languw je, which would seem censurable 
to a novice, but is soon realized to be the almost necessary 
accompaniment of the position, human and horse nature 
being such as they are. At varying positions in the line 
are the "cook and the crew of the captain's gig," helping 
over difficult places, galloping ahead after game or delayed 
in its pursuit, but never very far from the main body. 
The tram goes at a walk, and makes no detours for hills 
or valleys, but crosses everything as it comes. It will 
travel about twenty-five mUes a day over rough and track- 
less country, and do but little more. on a road, if it ever 
gets to one, which it does not often do, for there are no 
roads in this country except along certain main lines of 
communication and very far apart. It ia an absolutely 
wild region, in which the only paths are those made by 
the game in their journeyings for centuries. So over 
every divide and along every stream and valley you gen- 
erally see a well-trodden and distinct path, often beaten 
down some inches below the surface of the ground, and 
this follows the easiest course there is to be found. Per- 
haps there is no easy course at all, but the trail can be de- 
pended upon to take the best there is to be had. 
But this has been a tremendously long preface, and I 
fear the personal adventures will be a small tail to so big 
a kite; stall perhaps the preface may be useful while the 
main work will be neither useful nor ornamental; in any 
event let me come back to my story. 
From Colorado Springs we, my brother Wolcott and 
myself, took the evening train West on the Denver & 
Rio Grande, and early next morning landed at Wolcott, 
in the canon of the Eagle River, and on the western side 
of the Continental Divide. Having some hours to wait 
for the stage, we got out our fly-rods and succeeded in 
extracting a few trout from the beautiful river; these I 
dressed and the obliging landlady cooked them for our 
dinner. This was my first introduction to the black- 
spotted Rooky Mountain trout {Salmo purpuratus, Goode) 
— and he is a fine fellow and worth knowing. Quite dif- 
ferent in his habits from the Fontinalis, at least in my 
small experience, both in the parts of the stream he ia 
found in and the character of his rise to the fly; but a 
dashing and vigorous fighter and very good on the table. 
We got nothing of any size here, but afterward, in the 
Cafion of the Yampa below Steamboat Springs, took 
plenty of them up to 21bs. in weight, and were sure that 
longer effort than we could give would have developed 
of black points on the sky-line of a ridge a mile or two 
off, which the glass showed to be a band of some dozen 
antelope. It was hopeless to get near them in that com- 
manding situation, so we did not try it. The country 
along our entire journey was decidedly arid, having few 
trees except close to the stream, and the low hills being 
boulder-strewn and as little cultivable as an ash pit; but 
the river was beautiful, the odd buttes of trap rock were 
striking, and now and then we caught a view of rugged 
and distant mountains to the westward, which were 
grand. The air was glorious, the sunshine superb, and 
the little bronchos behaved pretty well for bronchos, so 
the day's ride was a pleasure, and never tedious. 
Steamboat Springs, which we reached about 6 o'clock, 
lies just west of the main divide of the Rockies, and we 
could see the trail along and over the mountains to the 
eastward by which North Park is reached. We were 
too tired to try the famous hot baths of natural spring 
water, and a rather poor supper and very hard beds were 
most welcome. A very large and fine elk head hung in 
the hotel office, but the horns did not look just right in 
color, and, after some inquiry, I found that they had 
been picked up in the woods, stained to about the proper 
color, and fitted to the scalp of a cow elk ; and was told 
that preparing heads for sale in this manner was a regu- 
lar and profitable business, especially since elk with fine 
heads were so much more rarely shot of late years. 
At Steamboat Springs Baxter met us, bringing saddle 
horses for ourselves and a couple of pack horses for the 
luggage, and we started at 6 o'clock the next morning on 
our forty-mile ride to camp. That ride is one of the most 
pleasant and one of the mos*; painful of my memories. 
Until toward noon we occasionally followed what might 
by extreme courtesy be called a road, and might in places 
BUCKHOR!^ GA.MB. 
mighty ones from the magnificent pools of that glorious 
trout stream. 
At noon we climbed into the stage which was to take 
us to Steamboat Springs, about eighty miles due north, 
and to consume a day and a half in doing it. The vehicle 
was what is called a mud wagon — seats for six, a cotton 
top, the bottom filled with mail bags and our own traps, 
until places for feet were hard to find, and harnessed to 
two bronchos. Following a small creek valley, we slowly 
climbed for hours until the divide between the Eagle and 
Grand rivers was surmounted, and then rattled down to 
the Grand Valley at a speed and over roads which seemed 
to me anything but safe. Realizing my greenness, I had 
self-control enough to hang on and keep my mouth shut, 
while the driver whirled us down the grade and around 
curves with a clear drop of 100ft. (and it looked like 
1 000) on the outer side of the road and within a few 
inches of the wheels. I am pretty sure that fellow knew 
he had a tenderfoot on board, and wanted to extract an 
appeal for more care; if so, he did not do it, mainly be- 
cause I realized that we must all go together, if anybody 
went, and that he was probably no more anxious to be 
smashed than I wa3. We crossed the Grand River 
at the end of this trying grade, and then followed its 
course downward for several miles, over a succession 
of ups and downs, as we crossed little valleys at right angles 
to the stream, finally bringing up about 6 o'clock at a 
little hotel on a small lateral creek. I hurried to get my 
rod together, and, walking some distance up the stream, 
managed to get four nice mountain trout before dark, 
though the last one was taken after the stars were well 
out. These made a capital breakfast next morning, and 
were a good preparation for the long and slow climb to 
the top of the divide between the Grand and Yampa (or 
Bear) river valleys. Oace over this summit, we followed 
the Yampa from almost its first b sginn in gs until at Steam- 
boat Springs it makes a great bend to the west, being then 
a full-grown river. We were constantly tempted along 
its course by glimpses of most entrancing trout holes, 
growing finer as the stream grew larger; but had self- 
control enough to resist temptation and keep on. This 
was a great mistake, and I here want to lay down the 
general principle that when a trout fisherman finds good 
trout water his highest duty is at once to fish that water, 
" Any other course will bring only sorrow and unavailing 
remorse to his declining years, and, like Kipling's "Mug- 
ger of the Ghaut," he will be always haunted by visions 
of the prey that escaped him. 
Somewhere about noon, as we were traveling through 
Egeria Park, came our first sight of big game — a series 
be traveled by wheeled vehicles without extreme danger; 
then we took to the woods, to game trails, to fallen tim- 
ber, to precipitous hillsides covered with boulders, logs 
and brush, and to all sorts of places which, to my igno- 
rance, were absolutely impassable to horses. Riding, as I 
had understood it, was out of the question, the only 
things to do were to let your reins loose, hang to the high 
pommel, balance as well as possible and pray. All these 
I did, as well aa several other things. But no ground 
seemed to make any difference to our bronchos. They 
climbed, jumped and slid with perfect success and appar- 
ent unconcern, doing as many impossible things and as 
easily as a trick bicycle rider. All this could not be done 
without fatigue to the rider, especially if, as in my 
own case, he had not touched a saddle for two 
years, and about the middle of the afternoon I was 
ready to sit down (no, I had had sitting enough and to 
spare), to lie down and rest. But there was no hotel in 
that wilderness, the only supper and bed to be had were 
at the camp, and I had to bear it, though past grinning. 
Now the region was really mountainous, the higher ridges 
clothed with timber and the stream valleys luxuriantly 
green, even the lower ridges were covered with scrub 
oak, and we frequently saw deer. About 4 we came out 
into California Park, an open, sagebrush-covered oval, 
about ten miles by five, through which the Elkhead 
Creek flows. Here antelope were abundant, and we 
must have seen a hundred while crossing the park. On 
its northerly side we came to a wall of timber, abruptly 
bordering the desert plain, and beyond it could see the 
double summit of the peak to which we were bound. I 
have not any very definite recollection of that last six 
miles through the trees. They were rough, tangled and 
tedious, and I was too tired to talk or think. When at 
last the welcome tents showed white through the trees 
and the journey was over I was almost too tired to know 
that rest was possible. If any man thinks me a weak- 
ling, let him try thirteen hours in the saddle and forty 
miles over mountains, and then send me his revised 
opinion. 
CampBuckhorn, as we named it, was pitched on the edge 
of a glade aboutSOOyds. in diameter and of irregular shape!, 
traversed by a tiny mountain brook and surrounded 
by magnificent red spruces, some of them 3 ft. through 
and over lOOft. high, To the west the ground rose on a 
rapid slope for a mile or so, from which there soared the 
twin summits of "Bear's Ears," a precipitous mass of pur- 
ple brown trap, with only a few cedars clinging to its 
crevices. The peak is supposed to be 10,500ft. in altitude, 
and our camp w^s spiBewhere near l,5Q0ft. below the top, 
