While we know our northern friends may not feel it, in the South, Spring is
here. So we thought we'd share a few of our gardening sites appropriate
for this time of the year. Along with gardening, there's grilling, and getting
ready to diet so that you can fit back into that bathing suit this summer!
Ruxton frequently mentions the Ute Pass, and
states that it was the principal line of
travel to and from the South Park for all
the Indian tribes of this region at the time
of his arrival, as well as previous thereto.
There was another much-used trail into the
South Park which entered the mountains near
the present town of Canon City. It led in a
north-westerly direction from the latter
place, and reached the South Park proper
near Hartsell Hot Springs. This route was
used by the Indians occupying the country
along the Arkansas River and to the south of
it. In addition to the two principal trails,
there were others of lesser note, as, for
example, that over the north end of Cheyenne
Mountain, and one west of the present town
of Monument; but these were difficult and
were not used to any great extent.
In 1806, Lieutenant Pike attempted to lead
his exploring expedition over the Canon City
trail, but evidently had a very poor guide,
and, as a result, lost his way very soon
after leaving the Arkansas River. They
wandered about through the low mountains
west of the present mining camp of Cripple
Creek, and finally reached the Platte near
the west end of Eleven-Mile Canon where the
river emerges from the South Park. He
mentions having found near that point a
recently abandoned Indian camp which he
estimates must have been occupied by at
least three thousand Indians.
Thomas J. Farnham, on his way to Oregon in
1839, passed through the South Park,
reaching it from the Arkansas River by the
trail already described. He tells of his
trip, in a rudely bound little book of
minutely fine print, published in 1843. In
recounting his journey from the Arkansas
River to the South Park, he frequently
mentions James Peak as being to the east of
the route he was traveling. Previously, when
encamped on the Arkansas River, below the
mouth of the Fontaine qui Bouille, he speaks
of the latter stream as heading in James
Peak, eighty miles to the northwest; he also
states that one of the branches of the
Huerfano originates in Pike's Peak, seventy
to eighty miles to the south. This brings to
mind the fact that previous to about 1840
the peak that we now know as Pike's Peak was
known as James Peak. Major S. H. Long, who
was in command of the expedition that
explored the Pike's Peak region in 1820,
gave it this name in honor of Dr. James, who
is supposed to have been the first white man
to ascend it. After about 1840, this name
was gradually dropped and Pike's Peak was
substituted.
Farnham was very much pleased with, the
South Park, and says of it, after describing
its streams, valleys, and rocky ridges:
This is a bird's-eye view of
Bayou Salado, so named from the
circumstance that native rock
salt is found in some parts of
it. We were in the central
portion of it. To the north and
south and west its isolated
plains rise one above another,
always beautiful and covered
with verdure during the months
of spring and summer. A sweet
spot this, for the romance of
the future as well as of the
present and past. The buffalo
have for ages resorted here
about the last days of July from
the and plains of the Arkansas
and the Platte; and hither the
Ute, Cheyenne and Arapaho, Black
Feet, Crows and Sioux of the
north, have for ages met and
hunted and fought and loved, and
when their battles and hunts
were interrupted by the chills
and snows of November, they
separated for their several
winter resorts.
How wild and beautiful the past,
as it comes up fledged with the
rich plumage of the imagination
! These vales, studded with a
thousand villages of conical
skin wigwams, with their
thousands of fires blazing on
the starry brow of night ! I see
the dusky forms crouching around
the glowing piles of ignited
logs, in family groups,
whispering the dreams of their
rude love, or gathered around
the stalwart form of some noble
chief at the hour of midnight,
listening to the harangue of
vengeance or the whoop of war
that is to cast the deadly arrow
with the first gleam of morning
light.
Or, may we not see them
gathered, a circle of old
braves, around an aged tree,
surrounded each by the musty
trophies of half a century's
daring deeds. The eldest and
richest in scalps rises from the
center of the ring and advances
to the tree. Hear him!
"Fifty winters ago when the
seventh moon's first horn hung
over the green forests of the
Ute hills, myself and five
others erected a lodge for the
Great Spirit on the snows of the
White Butte and carried there
our wampum and skins, and the
hide of a white buffalo. We hung
them in the Great Spirit's lodge
and seated ourselves in silence
till the moon had descended the
western mountain, and thought of
the blood of our fathers that
the Comanche had killed when the
moon was round and lay on the
eastern plains. My own father
was scalped, and the fathers of
five others were scalped, and
their bloody heads were gnawed
by the wolf. We could not live
while our father's lodges were
empty and the scalps of their
murderers were not in the lodges
of our mothers. Our hearts told
us to make these offerings to
the Great Spirit who had
fostered them on the mountains,
and when the moon was down and
the shadows of the White Butte
were as dark as the hair of a
bear, we said to the Great
Spirit: 'No man can war with the
arrows from the quiver of thy
storms. No man's word can be
heard when thy voice is among
the clouds. No man's hand is
strong when thy hand lets loose
the wind. The wolf gnaws the
heads of our fathers and the
scalps of their murderers hang
not in the lodges of our
mothers. Great Father Spirit,
send not thine anger out. Hold
in thy hand the winds. Let not
thy great voice drown the death
yell while we hunt the murderers
of our fathers.' I and the five
others then built in the middle
of the lodge a fire, and in its
bright light the Great Spirit
saw the wampum and the skins and
the white buffalo hide. Five
days and nights I and five
others danced and smoked the
medicine and beat the board with
sticks and chanted away the
powers of the great Medicine
Men, that they might not be evil
to us and bring sickness into
our bones. Then when the stars
were shining in the clear sky,
we swore (I must not tell what,
for it was in the ear of the
Great Spirit), and went out of
the lodge with our bosoms full
of anger against the murderers
of our fathers whose bones were
in the jaws of the wolf and went
for their scalps, to hang them
in the lodges of our mothers."
See him strike the aged tree
with his war-club; again, again,
nine times. "So many Comanche
did I slay, the murderers of my
father, before the moon was
round again and lay upon the
eastern plains."
Farnham, continuing, says:
This is not merely an
imaginary scene of former times
in the Bayou Salado. AR the
essential incidents related
happened yearly in that and
other hunting-grounds, whenever
the old braves assembled to
celebrate valorous deeds of
their younger days. When these
exciting relations were
finished, the young men of the
tribe who had not yet
distinguished themselves were
exhorted to seek glory in a
similar way; and woe to him who
passed his manhood without
ornamenting the door of his
lodge with the scalps of his
enemies.
This valley is still frequented
by these Indians as a summer
haunt, when the heat of the
plains renders them
uncomfortable. The Ute were
scouring it when we passed. Our
guide informed us that the Ute
reside on both sides of the
mountains, that they are
continually migrating from one
side to the other, that they
speak the Spanish language, that
some few half-breeds have
embraced the Catholic faith,
that the remainder yet hold the
simple and sublime faith of
their forefathers, in the
existence of one great,
creating, and sustaining Cause,
mingled with the belief in the
ghostly visitations of their
deceased Medicine Men, or
Diviners; that they number one
thousand families.
He also stated that the Cheyenne
were less brave and more
thievish than any of the other
tribes living on the plains.
Farnham's description of the incantations
practiced by the Ute is in the main probably
true; the information on which it was based
was doubtless obtained from his guide.
Ruxton tells of the use of the trail west of
the present town of Monument by a war-party
of Arapaho on their way to the South Park to
fight the Ute. In the night the band had
surprised a small company of trappers on the
head of Bijou Creek, killing four of them
and capturing all of their horses. The
following morning two of the trappers, one
of whom was slightly wounded, started in
pursuit of the Indians, intending if
possible to recover their animals. They
followed the trail of the Indians to a point
in the neighborhood of the present town of
Monument where they found that the band had
divided, the larger party, judging from the
direction taken, evidently intending to
enter the mountains by way of Ute Pass. The
other party, having all the loose animals,
started across the mountains by the pass to
the west of Monument, probably hoping to get
the better of the Ute by coming in from two
different directions. The trappers followed
the latter party across the first mountains
where they found their stolen animals in
charge of three Indians. The trappers
surprised and killed all three of them,
recaptured their animals, and then hurried
on to the Ute, giving such timely warning as
enabled them to defeat the Arapaho in a very
decisive manner.
The battles in the South Park and on the
plains between the contending tribes were
seldom of a very sanguinary nature. If the
attacking Indians happened to find their
enemies on level ground, they would circle
around them just out of gunshot at first,
gradually coming closer, all the time lying
on the outside and shooting from under the
necks of their ponies. These ponies were
generally the best that the tribe afforded
and were not often used except for purposes
of war. While engaged in battle, the Indians
seldom used saddles, and in place of bridles
had merely a piece of plaited buffalo-hide
rope, tied around the under jaw of the pony.
If the defending party was located in a
fairly good defensive position, the battle
consisted of groups of the attacking party
dashing in, firing, and then dashing out
again.
This was kept up until a few warriors had
been killed or wounded and a few scalps had
been taken; then the battle was over, one
side or the other retreating. With an
Indian, it was a waste of time to kill an
enemy unless his scalp was taken, as that
was the evidence necessary to prove the
prowess of the warrior. Engagements of the
kind I have mentioned have occurred in
almost every valley in and around the South
Park at some time during the hundreds of
years of warfare that was carried on in that
region.
Fremont, on his return trip from California,
during his second exploring expedition,
crossed the Rocky Mountains by way of Middle
Park, then across South Park, reaching the
Arkansas River near the present town of
Canon City. On his way through the South
Park he witnessed one of these battles, in
describing which he says:
In the evening a band of
buffalo furnished a little
excitement by charging through
our camp. On the following day
we descended the stream by an
excellent buffalo trail along
the open grassy bottom of the
river. On our right, the Bayou
was bordered by a mountainous
range crested with rocky and
naked peaks, and below it had a
beautiful park like character of
pretty, level prairies,
interspersed among low spurs,
wooded openly with pine and
quaking asps, contrasting well
with the denser pines which
swept around on the mountainous
sides.
Descending always the valley of
the stream, towards noon we
descried a mounted party
descending the point of a spur,
and judging them to be Arapaho
who, defeated or victorious,
were equally dangerous to us,
and with whom a fight would be
inevitable, we hurried to post
ourselves as strongly as
possible on some willow islands
in the river. We had scarcely
halted when they arrived,
proving to be a party of Ute
women, who told us that on the
other side of the ridge their
village was fighting with the
Arapaho. As soon as they had
given us this information, they
filled the air with cries and
lamentations, which made us
understand that some of their
chiefs had been killed.
Extending along the river
directly ahead of us was a low
piney ridge, leaving between it
and the stream a small open
bottom on which the Ute had very
injudiciously placed their
village, which, according to the
women, numbered about three
hundred warriors. Advancing in
the cover of the pines, the
Arapaho, about daylight, charged
into the village, driving off a
great number of their horses,
and killing four men, among them
the principal chief of the
village. They drove the horses
perhaps a mile beyond the
village to the end of a hollow
where they had previously forted
at the edge of the pines. Here
the Ute had instantly attacked
them in turn, and, according to
the report of the women, were
getting rather the best of the
day. The women pressed us
eagerly to join with their
people, and would immediately
have provided us with the best
horses at the village, but it
was not for us to interfere in
such a conflict. Neither party
were our friends or under our
protection, and each was ready
to prey upon us that could. But
we could not help feeling an
unusual excitement at being
within a few hundred yards of a
fight in which five hundred men
were closely engaged, and
hearing the sharp cracks of
their rifles. We were in a bad
position and subject to be
attacked in it. Either party
which we might meet, victorious
or defeated, was certain to fall
upon us, and gearing up
immediately, we kept close along
the pines of the ridge, having
it between us and the village,
and keeping the scouts on the
summit to give us notice of the
approach of the Indians. As we
passed by the village which was
immediately below us, horsemen
were galloping to and fro, and
groups of people were gathered
around those who were wounded
and dead and who were being
brought in from the field.
We continued to press on, and
crossing another fork which came
in from the right, after having
made fifteen miles from the
village, fortified ourselves
strongly in the pines a short
distance from the river.
During the afternoon Pike's Peak
had been plainly in view before
us and from our encampment bore
north 87° east by compass. This
was a familiar object, and it
had for us the face of an old
friend. At its foot were the
springs where we had spent a
pleasant day in coming out.
In 1859, a battle between the Ute on the
one side, and the Cheyenne, Arapaho, and
Sioux on the other, was fought six miles
north of Colorado City, in the valley now
occupied by the Modern Woodmen's Home. There
were several hundred warriors on each side
and the battle was of unusual duration,
continuing for almost an entire day. The Ute
were finally victorious and drove their
enemies back to the plains.
Until 1864, every spring after the white
settlers came into this region, war-parties
of Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Sioux would come
trailing in from the plains, pass through
Colorado City, stopping long enough to beg
food from the families living near the line
of their march and then go on to the soda
springs; here they would tarry long enough
to make an offering to the Great Spirit who
was supposed to be manifest in the bubbling
waters, and then follow, in single file, up
the Ute Pass trail into the South Park,
where they would scout around until they had
found a band of Ute. If they succeeded in
surprising the latter, they would probably
come back with a lot of extra ponies and
sometimes with captured squaws and children,
in which case they would exhibit a jubilant
air; but at other times on their return,
they would present such a dejected
appearance that one could readily surmise
that they had suffered defeat. These annual
visits were discontinued after the tribes
became involved in warfare with the whites.
Referring again to the mineral springs at
Manitou, I quote from Col. R. B. Marcy, of
the United States Army, who, with his
command, camped there during the whole of
the month of April, 1858. He tells not only
of the springs and the game of that
neighborhood, but of a frightful snowstorm
that delayed them, near Eastonville in El
Paso County, for several days at the
beginning of the following month. He says:
Having accomplished the
objects of my mission to New
Mexico, by procuring animals and
other supplies sufficient to
enable the troops at Fort
Bridger to make an early march
into Salt Lake Valley, I, on the
15th day of March, left Fort
Union on my return for Utah,
intending to pass around the
eastern base of the mountains
near Pike's Peak and the
headwaters of the Arkansas and
Platte rivers, following the
Cherokee trail from the Cache la
Poudre. The command was well
organized, and we made rapid
progress for about two hundred
and fifty miles, when, on the
27th of March, I received an
order from the General in
Command in New Mexico, to halt
and await reinforcements. I was
obliged to obey the order and
went into camp upon the
headwaters of a small tributary
of the Arkansas, called Fontaine
qui Bouille, directly at the
foot of Pike's Peak and near a
very peculiar spring which gives
the name to the stream.
This beautiful fountain issues
from the center of a basin, or
rather bowl, about six feet in
diameter, and throws out a
column of water near the size of
a man's arm. The receptacle,
which is constantly filled but
never runs over, seems to have
been formed by the deposit of
salts from the water, and is as
perfectly symmetrical and round
as if it had been cut out with a
chisel. As the fountain is
constantly playing and never
overflows, it of course has a
subterranean outlet. The most
remarkable feature, however, in
the Fontaine qui Bouille, is the
peculiar taste of the water. It
is pungent and sparkling and
somewhat similar in taste to the
water from the Congress spring
at Saratoga, but sweeter, and to
my palate pleasanter. We drank
it every day in large quantities
without perceiving any ill
effect from it, and the men made
use of it instead of yeast in
raising their bread, which
induced the belief that it
contained soda or some other
alkali.
The Indians believe it to
possess some mysterious powers,
the purport of which I could not
learn, but there were a great
many arrows, pieces of cloth,
and other articles that they had
deposited in the spring,
probably as an offering to the
Big Medicine Genius that
presided over it. We remained at
this place a month, during which
time we amused ourselves in
hunting elk, mountain sheep, and
black tail deer, all of which
were very abundant in the
surrounding country, and our
larder was constantly supplied
with the most delicious game.
I remember that one morning just
at daybreak, I was awakened by
my servant, who told me there
was a large herd of elk in close
proximity to the camp. I ran out
as soon as possible and saw at
least five hundred of these
magnificent animals, drawn up in
line like a troop of cavalry
horses, with their heads all
turned in the same direction,
and from the crest of a high
projecting cliff, looking in
apparent wonder and bewilderment
directly down upon us. It was to
me a most novel and interesting
spectacle. The noise made in the
camp soon frightened them,
however, and they started for
the mountains. They were pursued
for some distance by our
hunters, who succeeded in
killing six before they escaped.
On the 30th day of April, our
reinforcements having joined us,
we gladly resumed our march for
Utah, and at about one o'clock
encamped upon the ridge that
divides the Arkansas from the
Platte rivers. The day was
bright, cheerful, and pleasant,
the atmosphere soft, balmy, and
delightful. The fresh grass was
about six inches high. The trees
had put forth their new leaves
and all nature conspired in
giving evidence that the somber
garb of winter had been cast
aside for the more verdant and
smiling attire of spring. Our
large herds of animals were
turned out to graze upon the
tender and nutritious grass that
everywhere abounded. Our men
were enjoying their social jokes
and pastimes after the fatigues
of the day's march and
everything indicated contentment
and happiness. This pleasant
state of things lasted until
near sunset, when the wind
suddenly changed into the north.
It turned cold and soon
commenced snowing violently, and
continued to increase until it
became a frightful winter
tempest, filling the atmosphere
with a dense cloud of driving
snow, against which it. was
utterly impossible to ride or
walk. Soon after the storm set
in, one of our herds of three
hundred horses and mules broke
furiously away from the herdsmen
who were guarding them, and in
spite of their utmost efforts,
ran at full speed directly with
the wind for fifty miles before
they stopped. Three of the
herdsmen followed them as far as
they were able, but soon became
exhausted, bewildered, and lost
on the prairie. One of them
succeeded in finding his way
back to camp in a state of great
prostration and suffering. One
of the others was found frozen
to death in the snow, and the
third was discovered crawling
about upon his hands and knees
in a state of temporary
delirium, after the tempest
subsided. This terrific storm
exceeded in violence and
duration anything of the kind
our eldest mountaineer had ever
beheld. It continued with
uninterrupted fury for sixty
consecutive hours and during
this time it was impossible to
move for any distance facing the
wind and snow. One of our
employees who went out about two
hundred yards from the camp, set
out to return, but was unable to
do so and perished in the
attempt. Several antelope were
found frozen upon the prairie
after the storm.... At the
termination of this frightful
tempest, there was about three
feet of snow upon the ground,
but the warm rays of the sun
soon melted it, and after
collecting together our
stampeded animals, we again set
forward for Utah and on the
third day following, struck the
South Platte at its confluence
with Cherry Creek. There was at
that time but one white man
living within one hundred and
fifty miles of the place, and he
was an Indian trader named Jack
Audeby, on the Arkansas.
A year later, after the
Pike's Peak mining excitement had
started, Marcy issued a handbook for
overland expeditions, in which he says,
referring to a point at the mouth of
Monument Creek, which he calls the forks
of the Fontaine qui Bouille:
The road to Cherry Creek here leaves the
Fontaine qui Bouille and bears to the
right. There is a large Indian trail
which crosses the main creek and takes a
northwesterly course towards Pike's
Peak. By going up this trail about two
miles, a mineral spring will be found
which gives the stream its name of "The
Fountain that Boils." This spring, or
rather these springs, for there are two,
both of which boil up out of the solid
rock, are among the greatest natural
curiosities that I have ever seen. The
water is strongly impregnated with
salts, but is delightful to the taste
and somewhat similar to the Congress
water. It will well compensate one for
the trouble of visiting it.
Marcy claims that while waiting at the
mouth of Cherry Creek for a ferry-boat
to be constructed to take them over the
Platte River, which was very high at the
time, one of his employees washed a
small amount of gold dust from the sands
of Cherry Creek. This employee was
discharged soon after and went direct to
St. Louis, where he told of his
discovery, and Marcy claims that this
was the beginning of the mining
excitement in the Pike's Peak region.
This is different from other versions of
the event, the most probable of which is
that the discovery of gold was first
made by the semi-civilized Cherokee
Indians on their way to California.
What was known as the old Cherokee trail
came up the Arkansas River to a point
about twelve miles below the mouth of
the Fontaine qui Bouille. From that
place it ran in a north-westerly
direction across the hills, striking
that creek about eight or ten miles
above its mouth; thence up the valley of
the Fontaine to a point near the present
town of Fountain; turning northerly by
the way of Jimmy's Camp to the head of
Cherry Creek, and down Cherry Creek to
its mouth, where Denver now stands. From
this place, after running northerly
along the base of the mountains for a
considerable distance, it struck across
the mountains through Bridger's Pass,
and then turned westerly along the usual
traveled road to California. This trail
was used by the first gold-seeking
parties which came to the present State
of Colorado in 1858. The first of these
parties arrived at Cherry Creek only
about two months after Marcy left. The
second party followed a week or two
later, and the third party, of which
Anthony Bott, of Colorado City, was a
member, was close behind it. Members of
this third party explored the region
around where Colorado City now stands,
and later, with some others, returned
and laid out the town.
In 1859, occurred the memorable visit of Horace Greeley to the
Pike's Peak region. He arrived in Denver, June 16th, having come by the Smoky
Hill route. Writing from Denver, he says, among other things:
I have been
passing, meeting, observing,
and trying to converse with
Indians, almost ever since I
crossed the Missouri River.
Eastern Kansas is checkered
with their reservations,
Delaware, Kaw, Ottawa,
Osage, Kickapoo,
Potawatomie, while the
buffalo range and all this
side belong to, and are
parceled among the Cheyenne,
the Arapaho, and the
Apaches, or perhaps among
the two former only, as
Indian boundaries are not
well defined. At all events,
we have met or passed bands
of these three tribes, with
occasional visitors from the
Sioux on the north, and the
Comanche on the south, all
these tribes having for the
present a good
understanding. The Ute who
inhabit the mountains are
stronger and braver than any
one of the three tribes
first named, though hardly a
match for them all, are at
war with them. The Arapahoe
Chief, Left Hand, assures me
that his people were always
at war with the Ute; at
least he has no
recollection, no tradition,
of a time when they were at
peace. Some two or three
hundred lodges of Arapaho
are encamped in and about
this log city, calculating
that the presence of the
whites will afford some
protection to their wives
and children against a Ute
onslaught, while the braves
are off on any of their
fighting-that is
Stealing-expeditions. An
equal or larger body of Ute
are camped in the mountains
some forty or fifty miles
west, and the Arapahoe
warriors recently returned
in triumph from a war party
on which they managed to
steal about one hundred
horses from the Ute, but
were obliged to kill most of
them in their rapid flight
so that they only brought
home forty more than they
took away. They are going
out again in a day or two,
and have been for some days
practicing secret in
cantations and public
observances with reference
thereto. Last midnight they
were to have had a great war
dance and to have left on
the warpath to-day, but
their men sent out after
their horses reported that
they saw three Ute on the
plain, which was regarded as
premonitory of an attack,
and the braves stood to
their arms all night and
were very anxious for white
aid in case of the Ute foray
on their lodges here in
Denver. Such an attack seems
very improbable and I
presume the three Ute who
caused all this uproar were
simply scouts or spies on
the watch for just such
marauding surprise parties
as our Arapahoe neighbors
are constantly meditating. I
do not see why they need to
take even this trouble.
There are points on the
mountain range west of this
city, where a watchman with
sharp eyes and a good glass
could command the entire
plain for fifty miles north,
south, and east of him, and
might hence give
intelligence of any Arapahoe
raid at least a day before a
brave entered the mountains;
for though it is true that
Indians on the warpath
travel or ride mainly by
night, I find that the
Arapaho do this only after
they have entered on. what
they consider disputed or
dangerous ground; that they
start from their lodges in
open day and only advance
under cover of darkness
after they are within the
shadows of the mountains.
Hence the Ute, who are
confessedly the stronger,
might ambush and destroy any
Arapahoe force that should
venture into their Rocky
Mountain recesses, by the
help of a good spy-glass and
a little "white forecast";
but the Indians are
children. Their arts, wars,
treaties, alliances,
habitations, crafts,
properties, commerce,
comforts, all be-long to the
very lowest and rudest ages
of human existence. Any band
of schoolboys from ten to
fifteen years of age are
quite as capable of ruling
their appetites, devising
and upholding a public
policy, constituting and
conducting a state or
community, as the average
Indian tribe.
I have learned to
appreciate better than hitherto, and to
make more allowance for the dislike,
aversion, and contempt wherewith Indians
are usually regarded by their white
neighbors, and have been since the days
of the Puritans. It needs but little
familiarity with the actual, palpable
aborigines, to convince anyone that the
poetical Indian-the Indian of Cooper and
Longfellow-is only visible to the poet's
eye.
