“Henry Gillipsie, a man of thirty-one, a graduate of Kansas Agricultural College, left his home to seek his fortune mining gold. When he reached Leadville, the town was in a ferment. Silver had been discovered in the mountains of Colorado! He turned from his dreams of gold to the surer thing—silver. True, there had been news of an Indian uprising; a United States Major had been killed and some soldiers, but Gillipsie made up his mind to go. He got a horse and a pack mule, took his son and persuaded a friend to join him. Some twenty-five other prospectors followed Gillipsie’s trail. All staked out their claims, Gillipsie even buying two mountains. Although a truce had been concluded with the Indians, Gillipsie and the others decided to return to Leadville. Besides the Indians, winter was coming on. But he was no sooner back than he began worrying about his holdings. Once the thaw set in, thousands would go over Independence Pass and might take possession of his claims. He told his fears to a friend who knew all about mines and mine country.
“‘How can we get across the Pass in winter? The reports are terrible. Men and mules bogged down in snow—broken legs—starvation.’
“Together they worked out a plan. They built snow boats of good, strong lumber and loaded them with two hundred pounds of provisions and plenty of blankets. The boats, really giant sleds, would be pulled by miners. All would travel only at night when the snow was hard-packed, making the going easier.
“Still the men objected. ‘How do you expect us to walk over snowdrifts twenty-five feet deep?’
“Undaunted, Gillipsie and his friend had the answer. ‘We’ll need snowshoes. Since we can’t get the webbed kind, we’ll make them out of board, eight feet long, the way the Norwegians do.’
“When Gillipsie and his fourteen men, a strange looking pilgrimage, arrived at their camp, Aspen’s mining history began.
“More settlers arrived, lured on by the tales of fabulous riches. They spread out to Ashcroft, only twelve miles away. The success of Horace Tabor, the owner of the two most famous mines in Ashcroft, stimulated the miners.” (Horace Tabor, the romantic figure who loved Baby Doe) she parenthesized, for the benefit of her grandfather.
“But Ashcroft developed slowly. The mountains were not only high but inaccessible. Progress was slow. In the meantime, Aspen moved on to quicker glory. A one-gauge railroad—buildings went up at terrific speed—churches, schools, a bank, the Aspen Times—living expenses were high—flour cost one dollar a pound.”
The music from her radio egged on Judy’s flagging spirit. Further reading only revealed the names of Tabor’s two mines at Ashcroft. It was in vain she looked for more news of Baby Doe. There was nothing. Only the gloomy recital of the ruined silver kings.
History book and diary fell off the bed. She switched off the lights and turned off the radio. The researcher wearily yawned and slept.