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Every day we met crowds of immigrants bound for the gold regions. they did not feel the least disheartened by the discouraging accounts they received from those returning, there is such a charm about the very name of digging gold. every one thinks he will be the lucky person and where so many failed that he may perhaps make his fortune. Fill them full of stories about wonderful discoveries and they will believe it all because it agrees with their inclinations but tell them about the dangers and difficulties all the privations hunger cold and fatigue they will have to undergo, of working up to their knees in cold ice water, they will only laugh at you and will not give credit to it. After crossing the Platt the last time we struck in to the new road called the Bradford road. it was an improvement on any road that I had yet traveled on in the mountains they had a large gang of men to work grading it. they charged us two dollars toll for travelling it. About noon on the tenth day from leaving Carryall we came to the outside of the mountains and it was a most grand looking sight that was then presented to our eyes. We stood on a level plateau about a mile high the road winding down it steep side looked from one position to be impossible for a four footed beast to descend. Far below us white clouds were sailing along and mingling with the mountains we could see the plains stretching hundreds of miles below us the great Platt River dotted with dark looking timber on either banks could be traced a great distance. Denver City fifteen miles distance still? seemed to be almost directly under us every building stood plain and distinct. in the neighborhood of the mountains the air is so pure that objects seemingly very close to you are four times as far off. one time I shot at a deer that I thought stood only eighty yards