I stepped out into the cool fresh morning air. Above the tall trees on the mountain, we were surveying stood a beautiful clear blue sky with wispy white clouds streaking between the mountain and space. It was one of those mornings when I could see my breath. It was a good sign. It meant I was very alive, and the cold air was reassuring, as well as refreshing.

Cold didn't have the same meaning after going through Kansas the previous summer. Cold, as in the cold on this mountain, didn't send me back inside for a coat, and there were plenty of those hanging on hooks in the pantry. There were plenty of boots too, where they'd been shed and left under the hanging coats.

My body remembered Kansas. I'd never appreciated the cold before. It's originally why I took to speculating in the south. New York Winters could be brutal, and the south was reputed to be mild.

I went south even though a war had been raging there. I managed to avoid the guns as Sherman marched through Georgia. It might have been a little too warm for comfort in the middle of an uncivil Civil War, but I was busy making my fortune, and a little gunfire over the next ridge was of no concern of mine, as long as it got no closer. I always kept my carpet bag packed, just in case the war came too close for comfort.

The early bird got the worm, as well as an inside track on land that no one owned or claimed. War can do that to a country, even one that wasn't really a country, but a piece of a union that took it's time marching through Georgia, burning and destroying anything that might be useful to the Confederates.

I once passed a forest that had the strangest thing I think I ever saw. Railroad rails had been heated and bent around trees along what were once railroad tracks. I asked my friend, Jasper, about it.

"Those are Sherman bowties. "Johnny Reb won't get resupplied on that railroad."

Going west wasn't a plan to make more money. It was to squeeze as much life out of my body as I could. Being on a mountain in eastern Colorado wasn't the plan. I feared I might not live to get out of New York. I did live and I unexpectedly had my entire life ahead of me.

I purposely went to the south to take advantage of a lot of land that was coming available. The carnage hardly registered as I picked up with men who could teach me how to do what they did with some ability to see land and recognize its value according to its location and the interest in it.

If you did your homework, and checked with the city fathers, saloon keepers, and the man who ran the general store, you could get an idea of where development might be taking place, or where a railroad might be coming across a particular plot of land that was up for sale. If a town was growing, and you could buy land nearby, chances were, it was growing that way sooner or later. In the south was where land prices were low and once the war was over, the South would need to be rebuilt.

Going west for my health brought me to the mountain and fresh cool air that you felt inside and out. Being outside in the cold in my shirt sleeves wasn't uncomfortable. I was outside all day most days, and the cold was part of it. Luckily, surveyors kept moving. The cold moved with us, as did the equipment we used to do the surveying.

As days went, this day was one in a stream of clear beautiful mornings. I'd built the fire up in the fireplace, put on a pot of coffee, and before I looked to see if either Phillip or Samuel were up, I put on my clothes and the boots I'd wear on that day's survey. I headed out to look at the crystal blue sky, and the tall trees reaching up to touch it.

Each new day was glorious. Colorado had a beauty all its own. Like the West itself, it was big and led to more spectacular country the further west I went.

As I walked toward the stable to check on the horses and fill the troughs with water, Phillip came out of the door carrying an empty bucket. He'd beat me to it, and I was left to stand and take it all in.

"I was just going to do that," I said.

"No need. I filled the horse troughs. They'll be good for another day. Beautiful day, John."

"Certainly is. You don't know how good it feels to wake up without the benefit of sweating."

Phillip laughed.

"We did have a time of it coming across. All behind us now. It'll be cold here until spring. That's usually late March or early April. In a few weeks, it will probably be as cold as you've ever seen it back east. It's a crisp clear cold that a couple of shirts and a coat keep off you."

"Can't wait. We going to the furthest location again today?"

"Yes, we'll work our way back toward the cabin and next summer, we'll be working no more than a few minutes away from here. It's always best to get the furthest region out of the way first. By next summer we'll just want to get done with it."

We didn't take the wagon, because where we went no wagon could go. Phillip had a way of storing the equipment to keep it safe from the weather. Each day we retrieved it and spent most of our daylight hours surveying. It was rugged going for the early weeks there, and it did get cold. After Kansas in the summer, winter in Colorado was welcome.

I'd probably never look at the seasons the same way again, but we were too busy to worry about a little sleet and freezing rain. We would ride Chestnut and Dobbin out each morning and ride them back a couple of hours before dark.

In the dead of winter, Samuel kept the fire burning so we came back to a toasty warm home, and if he hunted that day, he'd have it cleaned and ready to cook as quick as Phillip got out of his work gear and after the horses were watered and fed, he cooked.

Squirrel was good and it tasted like chicken with a tangy after taste. We were happy with woodchuck, raccoon or beaver, and from time-to-time Samuel got a buck and he wrestled it home. At those times Phillip spent a couple of days tending to the venison he hung in the smoke house. Since it was rarely above freezing from mid November until mid March, we ate fresh venison and antelope for most of the winter.

We'd bought a couple of hundred pounds of potatoes and almost as much carrots, and the pantry stayed well stocked during the winter. We were able to have a variety it was hard to match when traveling by wagon across the country.

On the days Samuel wanted to go with Phillip, which he did from time to time, I stayed at the cabin and did some cleaning and on really nice days, I opened the door and the window to get an air flow going, and the cabin aired out nicely in a couple of hours. In the winter I had to wear a coat while doing this, but by April I could do this in my shir sleeves.

From time to time we didn't survey for a day or two while Phillip was catching up on his paperwork that would go to 1st National Bank. The paperwork went to St Louis first, where Dan looked it over, and then he got it to New York. Because the west wasn't as settled as the east, sending the papers to St Louis was safer than trying to send them directly to New York, and Dan was in charge of the western division of 1st National. He was instrumental in the land holdings of 1st National. He was Phillip's boss. He knew what to tell New York about their western land holdings.

At first, Phillip took me to the furthest reaches of the land we'd survey. We went to the top of the mountain where the new survey met up with the survey he'd done the year before. At the top of the mountain, there were no trees. It was all rocks, boulders, and outcroppings that marked the limits of the earth, where it kissed the sky.

I looked down on miles of forests, rivers, and the Colorado Territory stretching out for as far as I could see. These were not part of the Rockies. It would be nearly a two years before we saw the Rocky Mountains that stood behind Denver.

The view from the top of that mountain had me feeling like I could see all the way to China. At first it was dizzying to see so far, and then each bare spot, each new forest picked up where a forest left off a few miles before. It looked like I could see forever. It was a spectacular view, and I'd ask Phillip to take me back there before we finished with our survey. From that spot, I knew what it was like to stand on the top of the world.

It was the paperwork from that survey that he'd carried to St Louis and then on to New York City, where we met, and nine months later I was a surveyor in Colorado Territory. It's difficult for me to remember leaving New York City. It's a vague picture in my mind.

It seemed like a lifetime ago. It was difficult for me to remember the years of travel in the south. At the time, living in New York City all my life, going south meant more open space than I knew existed. As adventures go, it was a great adventure for a city boy.

There was a beauty to the south that New York City didn't have. With too many people and too many structures, all I could see were buildings and people. No matter where I went as a boy, there were more people than I liked, and going south, seeing a more laid back way of doing it, made me excited to be there and work there.

Now that I'd been west, I thought I'd seen it all. The landscape was magnificent. In the east, there were gardens, plantations, and smaller cities to offer anything anyone needed. There were solid trails, the railroad, and plenty of room where you could get away from people.

I'd never been all that fond of people. I do better out in the country.

Out here, especially where we had surveyed, there was nothing but land and more land. There were no people and the animal life was everywhere around us. Even in the midst of doing the survey, we might stop to watch a cluster of deer or a moose amble along.

I'd seen two bears, and one got a bit too close for comfort, but Phillip saw him too, and he told me to hold my ground. The bear would lose interest in me fairly quickly.

He did, but I kept my eyes open the rest of that day. I had no desire to be dinner for a bear.

The birds in the trees furnished a musical score for our enjoyment as we worked our way along on the land we crossed. It was several miles from the cabin at first, but as time went on, we had less distance to go each morning, until we were less than an hour from the cabin, and we spent more time surveying and less time horseback riding.

We had two major snow storms, although some days it snowed one day after another, but in the forest it wasn't enough snow to stop the surveying. My feet could get pretty cold, and I feared they'd freeze, and I'd stomp my feet, until Phillip told me to stop moving. I would stop, but go back to moving once he said, "Okay."

The first heavy snow came just before Christmas. It snowed that entire week, but the first night it snowed all night, we could hardly move outside to tend to the horses. In the stable and in the cabin was free of snow, but it took a major effort to get between the cabin and the stables. The snow hindered our movements, but it kept the cabin toasty warm with less wood being required to heat it.

I made the trip one morning, so Phillip didn't do it every time, and when I came out of the stable, Samuel laid in wait for me. He pelted me with snowballs. His laughter echoed in the trees, and I gave as good as I got when Phillip stepped out and I showered him in snowballs.

Hearing Samuel laugh was as good as It got. He slowly began to come to life once we reached the cabin. He smiled more often, and hearing him laugh had me smiling. Hearing him laugh, knowing he was enjoying himself, brightened the day for me.

It wasn't all snowball battles and a struggle to care for the horses. We spent Christmas drinking coffee and playing cards. Both Phillip and I bought Samuel gifts of clothes, gloves, and I bought him a deck of cards. I was delighted to give him the cards, and we spent the next week playing card games I knew from back east.

We drank a sea of coffee and played a ton of cards. Cards all day every day for a while got old by the time we decided we'd try to get out. It took maybe two weeks for the surveying to start a new. It was nice to be able to get out of the cabin. Even with the temperatures way colder than I was accustomed to, I enjoyed getting outside if only for a few minutes.

Going out to where we'd left off with the survey kept us busy all day every day until the second blizzard snowed us in for a few weeks after mid January. It was more coffee and cards, but it was easier on us the second time around. We'd been through it once, and we could do it again, but being in the cabin for so long got old fast.

Each morning, the first one up got the privilege of tending to the horses, and there were no objects when that person dressed to brave the great outdoors.

We knew we'd be able to get out in a couple of weeks, and we could wait, but if December was cold, January froze me.

Maybe Kansas wasn't all that bad.

On the coldest days, we'd work until the sun got high in a clear blue sky, and we'd come back to the cabin before anything vital froze. This did make for shorter work days, which added to the time we'd be on the mountain.

The snow slowed us down. It only stopped us during the two serious storms. It might snow every day for a while, but these weren't serious storms that stopped us from getting out to survey. It meant the surveying would go on for longer than we first calculated.

Phillip had been through it all before, but that didn't make it any easier on him than it was on me. He'd done it before and I hadn't, but we were both out in the cold every day, except for the days Samuel went with him and I stayed back in the cabin. It gave me a break Phillip didn't get, so as the head of our survey team, he did do most of the work no matter who went out to survey with him.

The cold eased up by March, and the ground was free of snow after being covered since December. By March we'd done half the surveying, and the coming spring would allow us to get out every day and not be snowed in the cabin for weeks on end. Phillip thought we'd be done in late August or early September. The idea of finishing in eight or nine months was much better than being snowed under in the cabin during the winter.

Spring in Colorado was beautiful, and we spent a lot of time outdoors. Even once we came back from working all day, we might build a fire to cook supper outside, and we'd go into the smoke house to bring out a choice roast to cook and that would allow us to drown our potatoes and carrots in the juices of the meat. This was high living after most of year there.

Samuel's appetite eased up over the winter. He wasn't nearly as active, but he was growing and he did put on a little weight. The easy going manner of the men around him made him less jumpy. His hunting skills were sharpened by Phillip turning the hunting over to him. He often got into his deerskin to go hunting, and on some days he wove two eagle feathers into his hair. The effect was amazing to see, Samuel looked like a very white Indian.

As bad as I felt while I was in New York City, and as sick as I was for the first few months of the trip west, I felt as good as I'd ever felt out here. Even when I was in New York City as a boy, the city came with a powerful smell. Of course, it was the horses, and I didn't figure to ever have a horse of my own, but I had Henry while speculating land, and now I had Chestnut, and he was a lively spirited horse, and a pleasure to ride.

To say this is a whole new world doesn't really describe it when it comes to me. It's an entirely new life, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. I'm delighted to get into my boots each morning, and I'm happy to do whatever needs doing. I've got two enjoyable companions, and I look forward to our adventures as they unfold in front of us.

The thing I'm not looking forward to is the end of this survey. We'll be going back to some semblance of civilization. I have nothing against civilized people, but I have a feeling that people might not be as civilized as they claim to be. I find this mountain in the northeast of the Colorado Territory is as civilized as places get.

I love the tall trees standing around me, and I love the animals and birds circulating around us. They know we are here, and we know they are there, but we don't bother each other. I find this place as civilized as places get. I don't have a worry in the world, and I'm very much alive and well in Colorado.

We've been here for close to a year now.

Summer in Colorado lacked the intensity of a summer in Kansas. It felt warm some days as the sun beat down on us as we surveyed among the trees, but I wore a long sleeve shirt all summer, and the nights were as good for sleeping as any night east of there. With the window and door open, we got a breeze that kept the cabin comfortable no matter what the temperature was outside in July and August.

It was nearly the end of August when Phillip spoke of the plan. We were surveying close enough to walk there each day. We carried the equipment with us, and brought it home at the end of the day. We'd go out shortly after dawn, come in for lunch, and be back before dark.

"We have another week of surveying, and it'll take me a week to catch up on the paperwork, and then we'll go into town and wire Dan. He intends to send us to Denver, if you have a mind to go along, John."

I knew it was coming and it came sooner than I liked. I liked life in the same place, when the place was the cabin in the forests of Colorado. Phillip told me we'd go to the top of the mountain the day before we left for Denver. On the next to last day we'd go into Goodland and do our business, wire Dan and wait for a reply, we'd get a store bought meal and maybe a couple of beers before returning to the cabin with some extra supplies we'd leave for the next occupants of the cabin.

We'd get plenty of supplies for ourselves, because if we waited until we got to Denver to resupply, we'd pay two to three times as much for the same goods. Denver was a boomtown that sprung up to tend to the miners heading for the gold fields.

It was almost a week for Phillip to finally have all the paperwork organized and ready to go to 1st National. There would be a preliminary report he'd wire to Dan, and then we'd wait for a reply to tell us he still wanted us in Denver. We'd post the report to Dan in St Louis, and then, we'd buy supplies, eat, and get our beer.

In the early afternoon on the next to last day, we rode to the top of the mountain, taking Samuel this time. We stood gazing out at a picture that really couldn't be described. Samuel found a way to climb up to where the very top of the mountain was on a pile of boulders. From there everything was green and looked very alive. The beauty was something to behold. I loved this place, and I'd love to live in a cabin where I could get on my horse and come to see a sight like the one at the top of that mountain.

It was sad going into town. Realizing we'd go back on the move starting tomorrow morning was no joy for me. Oh, I'd go willingly, and we'd have new adventures and newer places to live, and I'd be glad we left the cabin, but leaving it was hard. I hadn't really had any place to call home since I left my parents house fifteen years before. The cabin felt like home.

We left the wagon in front of the telegraph office as we walked up and down the wooden walkways of Goodland. We were going to eat at Pa's Place, and have our beer at the Goodland Saloon, but we'd do that after buying our dry goods, and we wouldn't do that until Dan received our telegram and sent his reply. That took half the day.

His reply, "I need you in Denver. Robby called home on emergency. Meet Juan Denver Assay Office, as soon as we can get there," Phillip read. "I guess we're going to Denver."

"What kind of emergency," I asked.

"Doesn't say. Dan isn't going to spend five cents a word explaining it to me. We'll find out when we meet Juan, whoever Juan is."

We felt safe leaving the wagon on the street in front of the general store. It stayed open to nine, and we'd be done with supper and our beer long before nine.

With the horses all hitched up and ready to go, someone might get the idea of taking all those goods, but no one had bothered our wagon yet, we didn't figure they would now, but there was something we didn't calculate and should have.

Someone might recognize the wagon with the 1st National Bank logo on the canvas cover. It's a touch George thought was necessary to tell interested parties who the wagon belonged to, although for all practical purposes, it was Phillip's rig. Sitting on the street like that, anyone might see it, and someone did.

It was someone who we didn't want to meet up with. A teamster just passing through on his way to the gold fields saw it. He saw Pa's Place, and across the street, he saw the saloon. He was betting Phillip Dubois would have dinner at Pa's, and he'd walk across the street to the Goodland Saloon for a beer.

Trag and his companions had just enough time to get liquored up by the time we arrived. He checked to see the wagon was still there several times, but it hadn't moved and he was confident he'd see Phillip in the Goodland Saloon.

Paw's Place served a good supper and even the coffee was better than average. We waited for Samuel to have a second piece of Pa's apple pie, and we stepped out on the wooden walkway to inhale the fresh evening air.

"Not a bad town," Phillip said. "Small, but big enough to have a little of everything."

We walked across the street and went into the Goodland Saloon. It was about in the middle of town, although there were two other saloons I'd seen. There must have been a lot of drinkers in Goodland. Probably a lot of people passing through stopped for a beer, after coming through Kansas, and heading toward the gold fields.

"Three beers," Phillip said as we stopped at the corner of the bar closest to the door.

"Three beers coming up," the barkeep said.

It was early and it was getting dark. It was darker than in most saloons, but nearer the door it had light coming in from the outside. I was comfortable there, and I was enjoying the cold one, but Phillip had stopped drinking and stared toward the other end of the bar. I looked to see what he was watching, and there were three men drinking beer.

It never occurred to me we'd run into anyone we knew in Goodland, Kansas, but that shows you what I knew. Phillip watched the three men, and one pushed himself back from the bar, and I could hear his spurs jingling as he walked. The two men he was with fell in behind.

"Dubois, told you I'd be seeing you," Trag said. "Didn't expect to find you here, but I passed your wagon on the way into town."

"Trag," Phillip said, letting his hand drop down beside the holster that wasn't there.

"As you can see, I'm not armed," Phillip said, once he realized his mistake.

"Noticed that. Next time we meet, you best be armed. I'm going to shoot you if you're armed or not. I owe you that, Dubois. We'll be seeing each other soon."

Trag walked out with his two companions behind him.

"You know him, Pop," Samuel asked, following he men with his eyes.

"He thinks I fired him off a wagon train I took into St Louis. That was a little before we found you. He's gunning for me, and I'm on the short end of that deal," Phillip said.

"Want me to go get the double barrel?" Samuel asked.

"No, I don't expect he'd try to kill me anywhere there are witnesses. Trag's careful that way."

We'd left our guns in the cabin next to the door. Samuel was the only one who took his rig off and left it by the door, and he'd stop practicing with the Colt ages ago. He used the 30/30 to hunt with, and that gave him all the practice he needed, while keeping us in fresh game for most of the last year.

Some towns have bad reputations and it's best to be armed when you go to town, but we'd been to Goodland a half dozen times and it was an easy going place that provided most of what we needed. We didn't think for a second we'd need to go to Goodland armed.

When you have enemies, you never know when you might cross paths with one. Phillip took care of business and he crossed a lot of paths along the trails he traveled. Trag probably wasn't the only one who would have put a bullet in Phillip if he got the chance, but Trag was the one we ran into in the Goodland Saloon.

I thought that Trag's hatred for Phillip didn't necessarily come from the lie Stewart told to get rid of the teamsters he'd hired. I suspected that it had more to do with Phillip knocking him out in front of his fellow teamsters, but that was my opinion and what I knew was Trag was still gunning for Phillip.

There were people who enjoyed exercising power over other people, because they could. It makes him feel powerful to inflict pain on someone else. That's how Trag appeared to be the day Phillip knocked him out.

Trag thought he had the upper hand. He didn't, and when he tried Phillip on for size. That's when I found out the easy going Phillip could take care of himself. He took his job as wagon master seriously, and he gave no one the idea he wasn't in charge on his train.

"Let's have another beer and give them time to get clear of us," Phillip said.

Even after a second beer, I didn't feel all that anxious to step out of the Goodland Saloon. To me, Trag was the type who would bushwack someone he was gunning for, and the men who hung around him were just as dangerous as he was.

Phillip went first and he stopped on the wooden walkway to look up and down the street.

I stepped out into the cool evening air. Looking up and down the street, I saw nothing that alarmed me. The street was for the most part empty. Everyone going anywhere was there. A half dozen horses were tied to the hitching post in front of the saloon. Another dozen horses and two wagons sat across the street in front of Pa's Place.

Our wagon was a block down on the far side of the street in front of the general store. No one was around it or even near it. We walked a half block on the wooden walkway before stepping into the street to walk the rest of the way on the quiet night.

Phillip walked around the wagon to stand next to where he'd sit. Reaching under the seat, he removed the double barrel shotgun and he leaned it against the seat where his right leg would be, before climbing up to drive us back to the trail that took us to the cabin.

Samuel walked around to the back of the wagon and untied Chestnut, walking him back to the front of the wagon. I climbed up on the seat and Phillip jiggled the reins and clicking with his tongue, and the wagon began to move.

We walked the horses until we reached the trail north that would carry us out of town. Phillip gave the reins a shake and the horses took off. It was unusual to let them run, but they'd been housed in the stable for months on end, and if they didn't like running, it didn't show in the speed we went. We were off in a flash.

We passed the last structure in Goodland, H. R. Doncaster 's house the sign read.

A boy Samuel's age turned to look at the fast moving wagon. Phillip let the horses continue running for most of an hour before he brought them to a trot and then to a walk. He brought them to a stop a short ways from the turn off to the cabin.

Samuel rode up beside him. He was laughing.

"Airing them out before the trip to Denver, Pop?"

"Yeah, they've been cooped up a while. I'm just letting them run. You stay out in front of us. Chestnut likes to run too, but stay out front and lead us into the cabin."

I walked around the horses to stand on Phillips side of the wagon. His back was turned to me as he looked back toward Goodlands a dozen miles behind us. I wasn't sure he saw anything, but it would be nice to get back to the cabin and get ready to pull out for our trip to Denver tomorrow.

He turned and came back to get up on the wagon seat. I walked back and climbed up.

"They following us?" I asked, suspicious of our dash home.

"Someone is back there. I saw movement. They stopped when I stopped. I suppose if Trag wanted to take us, they'd just ride up and shoot us. Nothing to stop them."

I picked up the shotgun to be ready if someone tried to come up beside us. No one showed himself before Phillip climbed back up to finish our trip to the cabin.

Phillip jiggled the reins and clicked with his tongue.

He continued letting the horses run, and we turned off on the trail to the cabin in no time at all. Samuel continued to lead the way. Like most boys, he loved letting Chestnut run.

We didn't let the horses run any longer. The trail was too narrow and it was too dark to risk running off the trail. It wasn't wide enough for men on horseback to pass the wagon.

Samuel sat on Chestnut and watched us pull into the open area around the cabin. Phillip pulled up so we could unload the goods Phillip wanted to leave here.

As we carried the goods inside, Samuel unsaddled Chestnut and put him in the stable, and he came back to unhitch the horses from the wagon that could stay where we left it for the night. We'd load the things we were taking with us in the morning.

Phillip walked outside once all the sacks were inside. He walked to the edge of the trail that went out to the main trail. He stood a few minutes and listened. His uneasiness had me uneasy. Samuel didn't seem to notice we were far more alert than usual.

Phillip expected something, and when he stepped back into the cabin, he strapped on his waist gun. I took mine off the hook and strapped it on. When Samuel came in, seeing us armed, he strapped on his Colt, leaning to tie it to his leg.

Phillip bought Samuel the Colt to give him a feeling of security. He also thought there could come a time when one more gun might make the difference in us surviving or not. I had a strange feeling this might be that time. I'd been with Phillip during both of the run ins he had with Trag, and he'd kill me as quick as he'd kill Phillip, because he remembered me.

Samuel knew how to use the Colt. He was a far better shot than I was, but in the cabin that evening, I did not feel confident because three of us could shoot. If Trag and his companions decided to come for us, there was only one way out of the cabin.

Phillip stood in front of the fire place and heated the coffee that was left from that morning. There was enough for each of us to have a cup.

We drank quietly.

We waited to see if anything would happen. There was a feeling something was coming.

We were waiting to see what might happen if we had been followed home. Phillip seemed sure someone was behind us on the main trail. I saw nothing, but that wasn't unusual. I was never as aware of my surroundings as Phillip was. He also knew more about the character of men than I knew. I could see he was expecting something to happen.


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"Marathon"

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"Goodland"

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