Grandpa's Letter (1872) The sun felt warm after a hard winter in the Rockies – the slight breeze at times was chilly but the ground was covered with early, tiny flowers of white and blue and gave you a feeling that spring was here for sure. In the clear blue sky a hawk circled and here and there a lark flew ahead of my horse to land again and fly a short distance as we approached. A jackrabbit bounced away among the sage and disappeared down a wash, the prairie was alive with silence. The slightest sound was a contrast, the squeak of leather, the ring of metal against the quietness kept one listening for all sounds. You felt the rhythm of the horses beneath you, you were completely aware of every thing around you, the smell pf sage, the colors, the warmth, the chilly air and the land marks that neared or disappeared behind you as you progressed, mile on mile. Day after day we crossed the summit and headed down on the western slope of the Rockies. Greener meadows, warmer days, better camps of crystal clear water and game of all kinds were plentiful. Occasionally signs of Indians appeared in the soft spring earth. ************ Then on the next page is this: “whup the feathers off of Geronimo” ********** Then 2 blank pages, then this: I had had good camps and bad wet camps in those oaks. I'd been on this journey from the Dakota's to Northeast Idaho. After leaving the windy slopes of northern Wyoming the air seemed drier and much warmer on this mid-may morning. I hadn't met more than 3 or 4 riders in all this time, though several times I had rode with in sight of several ranches in order to find a gate through home prairie pasture land. ********** Then in the middle of this page (written in dads hand writing): This letter is in its' complete state in another of my writings of some of my adventures CH