The first voice of

      one preaching in the

      wilderness was that

      of George Washing¬

      ton Fisher, a Meth-

      odist minister, who

      was kindly tendered

      a saloon to hold

      divine service in.

      The house was filled

      with the old and

      young, the giddy

      and sedate, the pious and the dissolute. The good man took his stand in front of the bar, and preached from the text, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, come ye, buy, and eat; yea, come buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

       Behind him were bottles and glasses in glittering array, and placards adorned the walls,reading, “no trust,” “pay as you go,” “25 cts. a drink.”

      LOYALTY. 65

       The minister gave a kind and loving lecture, presenting Christ as the cup and the loaf to refresh the Christian soldier and guide him to the new Jerusalem.

       Even those who were inclined to laugh at the incongru¬ ity of the scene, bowed in holy reverence to receive the benediction.

       Rev. J. H. Kehler arrived in Denver from Virginia on the 17th of January, 1860, and established St. John’s Church in the wilderness.

       One gloomy, stormy Sunday morning there were only two persons in the church, Mr. Amos Steck and Col. J. H. Dudley. They thought of course they would be dismissed without a sermon, but Father Kehler, equal to the situation, selected the text, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there will I be, in the midst of them,” and thereupon preached an excellent sermon.

      CHAPTER XV.

      LOYAL TO THE GOVERNMENT.

       In the spring of 1861 the Territory of Colorado was organized. President Lincoln immediately appointed William Gilpin its first Governor, in recognition of his services as an explorer of the “great West.” The people of Denver set about to receive their distinguished executive with every manifestation of pleasure and respect in their power.

       To Judge H. P. Bennett was assigned the honor of mak¬ ing the reception speech. To give greater tone to the affair a platform was erected in front of the Tremont house, West Denver, where the reception was to be held,

       5

      66 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS.

      and a large anvil, in lieu of a cannon, was loaded for a welcoming salute. In due time the Governor and his escort, in a spring wagon, which was newly painted and gaily decorated for the occasion, drew up in front of the orator. The Governor thrust his hand in the breast of his closely buttoned coat and assumed, from force of habit, a dignified and striking attitude.

       Bennett had prepared a real old-fashioned spread eagle speech, full of solid rhapsodies on our Italian climate and exhilerating atmosphere. But, just as he had launched out with “fellow citizens,” the cannon went off, whether by accident or in a spirit of mischief, was never known; but it certainly did “ spread itself ” in the effort to make its presence known, and gave the speaker a mightier “send-off” than was expected or desired. The enthusiastic crowd scattered in every direction, and the orator was so stunned that he forgot what came next, or what he was there for.

       This, mind you, occurred about the beginning of the war. A majority of the people of Colorado were loyal to the Government. A better illustration cannot be cited than that related by Judge Wilbur F. Stone: “Soon after the Territorial organization, two young men, who had been working for a miner at Gold Run, in Summit county, stole a large quantity of gold dust from their employer. They were pursued, captured, brought back to the gulch, tried by a ‘ miners’ court ’ and sentenced to be hanged. In the meantime A. C. Hunt, then United States Marshal for the district of Colorado, learned of the affair while passing through Park county in charge of some prisoners, and at once dispatched to me a warrant for the arrest of the culprits, sending me, at the same

      LOYALTY. 67

      time, a commission as deputy to execute the warrant. I was then at Buckskin Joe, in Park county, and mounting my horse rode with all speed over the range twenty miles to Gold Run, which I reached just as the crowd of nearly a thousand miners had gathered to see the execution.

       “Under a pine tree two graves had been dug, and beside them was placed a wagon upon which the two condemned criminals were standing with ropes noosed about their necks and fastened to a limb of the tree above, looking down upon their open graves, and waiting the signal when the wagon should be drawn from under them. A hollow square of men, with loaded rifles, inclosed the wagon.