Ocean to Ocean on Horseback Part 30

About July first of that year, a Mr. Post bought two lots in Cheyenne for six hundred dollars. He then went to Denver on business, stopped to stake out his claim in a coal mine, and returned to find that city real estate had become so inflated in his absence that he was enabled to sell a fractional part of his six hundred dollar lots for five thousand six hundred dollars.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CATTLE RANCHE IN NEBRASKA.]

About July first, the Union Pacific Railroad sold lots for one hundred and fifty dollars per lot. A month later, they were worth one thousand dollars apiece, increasing in price at the rate of one thousand dollars per lot each month for some time after.

On July 1, 1867, Cheyenne was simply a little corner of the wilderness.

On January 1, 1868, it was a city of six thousand inhabitants.

Was it not indeed a "Magic City," which could furnish a six months'

record like the above?

However, this was but the _Quatre Bras_ before the Waterloo.

Cheyenne's real struggle for life, for advancement, for culture and permanent prosperity, was to begin with this new year of 1868. We know how grandly the young city conquered, not by "magic" this time, but better still, by patience, pluck, and indomitable will. But to her honest and law-abiding citizens, at the outset of 1868, things looked dark indeed.

Cheyenne was the terminus of the Union Pacific Railroad that winter, and the sc.u.m of the floating Western population drifted thither.

Houses were insufficient, and many wintered in tents and dugouts.

To make things worse, great numbers of squatters came, and began seizing town lots.

"Shootings were frequent, and every manner of vice abounded. A canvas saloon would answer as well as another for gambling, drinking, and the purposes of the dives. Various men and women made the place intolerable.

It was never disputed that this town exceeded in vice and unwholesome excitement any of the new cities of the West." The police were overwhelmed. Crime, theft, and a.s.sault were rampant. Patience ceased to be a virtue.

The commander at Fort Russell was appealed to, and a battalion was sent by him to escort the squatters beyond the city limits.

After that, the good people of Cheyenne took matters into their own hands, deciding to

"Take up arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing, end them."

A vigilance committee, that _dernier_ resort of the order-loving Westerner of that period, was formed.

On January 11, 1868, this committee arrested three men for robbery. The criminals were bound together and placarded with the following notice:

"$900 stole. $500 returned! Thieves F. St. Clair, W. Grier, E. D.

Brownell! City authorities please not interfere until ten o'clock A.M. Next case goes up a tree! Beware of Vigilance Committee!"

Comparatively gentle measures, like the above, were useless. Authority in that wild land had to be made of "sterner stuff." Not until the vigilants had hung and shot a dozen men did comparative order prevail.

There was many a dark day for the well-wishers of Cheyenne; yet they lost

"No jot of heart or hope, But pressed right boldly on,"

and gradually peace came out of strife, order out of confusion, and civilization reigned supreme.

In 1869, Cheyenne became the great _entree_ port of the vast regions north and west.

On September seventh of that year the first term of court was held in the city.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A MOUNTAIN VILLAGE.]

In that same month of September, an election for members of the first Territorial Legislature took place.

That Legislature held a sixty days' session. Some of its _dicta_ were as follows:

Gambling was allowed.

Taxes were placed upon all property, real or personal, excepting only United-States and public property; and in cases of individuals, exempting clothing and furniture, amounting to one hundred dollars.

Jails were to be placed in every county.

And, "last but not least," Cheyenne was declared the seat of the territorial government, and an appropriation was asked for with which to build a capitol.

Surroundings change rapidly in the rush of a new community, and 1870 saw Cheyenne established, strengthened, purified, settled.

The floating riff-raff had pa.s.sed away, leaving a solid, intelligent population of sixteen hundred.

The city had at that time one public school and two private ones; the latter containing about sixty pupils. It had five well built and well furnished churches. The orders of Masons, Knights Templar, Odd Fellows, and Good Templars were all represented in Cheyenne at that time. The city had two large banks, three tobacconists, three hardware houses, two shoe stores, one confectionery, two bakeries, one livery stable, two first-cla.s.s hotels, many common ones, a daily newspaper, two weeklies, a well organized fire department, and "an acqueduct, nearly completed, for bringing water from a source seven miles away into the city."

Cheyenne was now well governed, orderly, at peace, and only three years old.

She has not stood still--the brave little "Magic City!"

She keeps on growing, becoming more beautiful, more prosperous. The best we can wish for her is that her future may prove as phenomenal and brilliant as her past has been.

CHAPTER XXVI.

CAPTURED BY INDIANS.

Cheyenne was at length left behind, and, with the object of securing companionship in my journey across Wyoming and Utah, I made the acquaintance of two herders--rough men and plain of speech, but apparently reliable and trustworthy. During the few days spent with these pioneers of the Plains, I learned but little of their past lives, yet I was thoroughly satisfied from the first that they would prove invaluable guides in my otherwise lonely ride over the Rockies.

My new companions, Israel Gordon and a Mexican with unp.r.o.nounceable name, were on their way to Salt Lake City with a few mustangs and Indian ponies, and we at once arranged to journey together as far as our respective routes carried us.

On our first day out from Cheyenne we were much favored, having a clear sky and a southwest wind, which tempered pleasantly the usual chilliness of the season. A ride of thirty-three miles on an up-hill road brought us to Sherman, the highest point touched in the Rocky Mountains by the Union Pacific Railway. Here we halted for the night, had supper, and slept under our blankets in the open air.

After a light breakfast the following morning, November first, we continued our journey along the line of the Union Pacific. Still favored with fine weather and our mustangs being in excellent condition, good progress was noted in the march westward. I had now become quite well acquainted with my new-made friends, and, as our ponies shook the dust of many miles from their feet, we talked of the strange region through which we were pa.s.sing, and of the routes which led to objective points beyond the mountains. During these conversations I learned that Gordon was born in Vermont, and lived in that State until the close of the Civil War, when he emigrated to Nebraska, and later to Wyoming, where for several years he led a wandering life among the hunters and cow-boys of the Far West. My other companion told me that he began life in New Mexico, and at the age of twenty-one drifted into Colorado, from which Territory he migrated to Cheyenne, in 1867. Both men were robust, strong of limb, and thoroughly accustomed to the habits and practices of the mixed population of the Plains.

As the reader may have observed, I have undertaken from the outset in this chapter to give some idea of the life and habits of my fellow-travelers, for, as will be discovered on another page, they were destined to share with me the most trying ordeal of my journey from Ocean to Ocean.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CAPTURED BY INDIANS.]

On reaching a point about a mile east of Skull Rocks, on the Laramie Plains, we were surprised to find ourselves confronted by a band of Indians--thirteen in number. This caused no uneasiness at first, as Indians are often seen on these Plains. We soon discovered, however, that they were on no friendly errand, and, upon a nearer approach, the herders p.r.o.nounced them a raiding party of Arrapahoes. They were evidently in pursuit of plunder, were decked in war-paint, and as soon as we came in range of their rifles sounded the war-whoop and bore down upon us, in a manner that betokened anything but a peaceful visit, and left no doubt in our minds as to the motive of their attack.

The Arrapahoes were at this time the friends and allies of the Sioux, and the chief objects of their raid were doubtless revenge for white men and horses for their warriors, who were then rendezvoused in the Black Hills.