Art: Could be. There was very few people in the valley—white people, you know. During the Civil War a few came in. After the Civil War, quite a few came in, but but it wasn't settled at all. Bud Booth lived his entire life down there east of Mosca? Until about five years ago—and his granddad came in over Mosca Pass, in the fall of 1890—when he got to Mosca, he had a team of horses and a wagon, and a milk cow, and a wife and two kids. And he homesteaded. My granddad came in the fall of '91, and he didn't homestead.
BH: What did he do?
Art: Well, he worked for other farmers. But, I. . . either it took a little bit of money that he didn't have, or all the decent land was taken, you know. I don't know. There's a—well that corner over there northwest of Mosca—four families came in there in the fall—no, in the spring, of 1887. And another relative later in '87, in the fall. And other than that, a few families that came in right after the Civil War, and during the Civil War was the only people here. Now, I knew of—the oldest, or the only son of that family lived over here over the years after I started carrying mail, and he was eight years old when they came. So he would have been born in '80—
'79. And he said, back then, he said, if you went somewhere—you either stayed where you were at, or you got home before dark. He said there was no fences, no roads, no lights in the home to guide you—it was just black brush. He said, in Alamosa, he said if you went to Alamosa that was a long day's work with a team. He said you always stayed overnight, and went home the next day. He said, you either got home before dark, or you stayed where you was at. I imagine a lot of the wagons had bedrolls in 'em, back then too.
BH: I imagine they'd have to.
Art: I knew an old fellow that always kept a bedroll in the backseat of his car. It was always there if he ever needed it. All he did was drive off the road, roll his bed out and go to bed. Just always there. You know, now I'm getting off track. . .