The Forrest City times., 1895-02-22
DOWN THE MOUNT AIN.
How Tate Brundage Frustrated
 a Murderous Scheme.

The traveller by rail in Colorado sees here and there upon the steep slopes barren streaks reaching from afar up the mountain down through rocks. ferns and belts of evergreen timber to the level valley along the stream at the bottom of the defile. These barren streaks never extend up to ''snow-line," but start among forests of fir and spruce that fringe the hills. They are the slides" down which the mighty tree-trunks have been tumbled from lumber camps to the shipping points below.
 The forest is thinner near the slides, because the greater trees have all been felled and rolled, crashing and bound ing, to their use in the mountain saw mills So abundant is the timber that slide is abandoned when the larger trees are exhausted. Many of the long pathways remain where advancing civ ilization has made their original pur- pose almost forgotten.
 The old "Bonham slide," on the south side of the Clear creek canyon, is one of these. It stretches up the mountain side for nearly fifteen hundred feet, perfect and uniform incline, except for two breaks One is where an irrigating ditch crosses it near the stream. Here wide wooden trough is set into the earth to,carry the waters.
 The other break is where the toll road to a silver mine back in the noun tains intersects it two hundred feet above the level of the valley.
 This road is cut out of the side of the mountain for ten miles down the canyon. 1t keeps nearly level, while the bottom of the valley falls constant ly, until finally the road is over a thou sand feet above the railroad track, and looks from below like mere furrow.
 But at the Bonham slide the road is only about two hundred feet up, and the teamsters hauling supplies can al- most distinguish the faces of the pas sengers in the trains passing below in the valley. When the wagon road crosses the old slide heavy wall pro- tects the roads upper side from the danger that pebbles or other small ob jects may roll down the incline. This wall has never given way but once.
 Work on the Maiden mine had been in progress month in the spring of 1884, when the superintendent found himself without money to pay off the two hundred hands. They clamored for their wages till he promised pay ment on the Saturday night following. He telegraphed to the company's head quarters in Denver, and received a re- ply that the money would be sent in time for him to keep his pledge.
 So he sent his assistant, Seth Brun- dage, to town with load of ore. drawn by the only available horses about the mine. Brundage had instructions to bring the money back with him.
 Early Saturday morning Seth drove off on the horseshoe-like toll-road. It winds around the mountain until it reaches the canyon side, then runs ten miles straight away to the station. The toll house is about four miles from the other end of the road, and the Bonham slide mile or two farther on, and nearly opposite the mine.
 About noon that day the superin- tendent heard an uproar at heavy windlass at the mouth of the mine. Running up, he found that there had been a break in one of the braces, and that the windlass was useless. The nearest place of supply was the toll house, where few mining necessaries were kept
 Tate" said he to Seth Brundage's fourteen-year-old son, do you think you could climb over the mountain in time to catch your father on his way home?"
 Tate's eyes frightened. If there was one thing he liked better than an other, it was notwithstanding.
 II think so," he answered.
 Well, I want him to bring me windlass iron from the dollhouse as he comes by. He will understand what l mean. His bringing it will save our sending back for it. We must have it by Monday morning"
 "Shall I start now?"
 ssYes: he can't get away from the