Many hundred of men were also walking, all with packs on their backs, hurrying on.  Some machinery was being hauled in wagons with signs on them reading, "Leadville or bust".  At last I reached a camp at the foot of a mountain.  A heavy snow was falling, stopping us all from going on.  We all had to sleep on the floor or on the outside in the snow.  I rolled up in my blanket.  Some had buffalo skins.  These were fine in a snow bed.  My blanket was very short and light.  My boots were also light.  I was getting a whole lot of experience.  Many of the men were rough and drunk.  It was my good luck to meet a man there who was looking for a place to lie down and get some rest and sleep.  He said, "Pard, I am hunting a spot, too."  I said, "Yes, there's a place over there among that crowd lying on the floor."

I was fortunate in meeting this man whose name was HARRIS.  He told me he was a merchant going to see about finding a location in Leadville.  As we stepped over men lying around on the floor we came to a small place just large enough for us both to lie down.  My blanket was small and too light for stormy weather.  He had a large buffalo robe which covered both of us.  It kept me warm all night.  When morning came it was still snowing.  Men were in groups talking about venturing over the mountains.  Many of them advised us not to risk it as the trail was covered with several feet of snow.  They were all eager to reach Leadville as soon as possible, but decided to wait for the storm to cease.

While we were waiting, my friend HARRIS said to me, "Pard, your boots are not heavy enough for this snowy country.  There is not a place nearer than Denver to buy them.  I can help you."  He looked around and found a coffee sack and some twine.  I did not know that the coffee sack was called a "gunny sack".  He cut the sack in two; one part he wrapped around my boot, commencing at the toe of my boot and up to my knee; then he laced twine over it.  He did the same with the other part of the sack, making it more comfortable for walking in deep snow.  I was certainly getting new experiences.  I had always thought I could face any snow storm.  We live to learn.  My condition was good.  I had two loaves of bread inside the lining of a short overcoat with two pounds of bolony.

Then came word that the storm was ceasing and to get ready to go and that some men with cattle would lead the way and we were to follow in their tracks.  We started but could not see the front of the line nor the end.  I noticed all of them had blankets over their heads for protection when the top of the mountain was reached.  A wise precaution.  The wind was terrific.  We could not speak with each other nor could we look up.  We kept our eyes on the tracks in the snow.  It was impossible to look up.  At last the mountain top was reached and we began to descend.  For some distance down we could hear the storm still roaring above us.  As far as I know we all got over safely.  We were traveling now with less effort.  The lower altitude made breathing easier.  The snow was two feet deep.  This was now being packed on top of snow that had fallen earlier and was tramped down by men and animals going to Leadville.

I have seen scores of fine looking horses, lying dead, along the side of the narrow trail.  They had slipped off the trail into deeper snow and it was very difficult to get them back on the trail.  Many had died from being driven too hard.  Their hearts would stop suddenly.  I left Denver early Sunday morning and arrived at Leadville late Thursday evening, nearly five days tramping in the snow and it was still snowing.

I thought of my friend, HARRIS.  I missed him as we lined up to go over the mountain peak.  The "gunny sack" he wrapped and laced over my light boots was still in fair condition.  I was told that it was hard to find a place to sleep.  I came to a low shed that had been hurriedly built.  I found a place to lie down on the rough floor among others at a cost of 50 cents per night.  There was no undressing, but just rolled up in your own blanket.  I soon fell asleep as I had walked nearly two hundred miles.

A little after midnight, I was awakened by a big burly man with a candle in his hand and a pistol in the other, demanding to know who I was.  I told him who I was and that I was hunting for work and that I had only slept a few hours.  He told me that some S. of a B. had committed a nuisance on the floor and that he would kill him if he could find him.  The odor was strong.  I went back to sleep again.