Excerpts from the memoirs of George W. Cox who camped on Grand Lake in 1879 with two friends and three mules, transcribed by his great granddaughter, Pat Snyder.
The Judge’s Story, copied by George Cox: ![]()
One night I retired early, being extremely tired after a tedious day on the lake. I soon fell asleep. I judged it came about midnight and awoke me. It being something unusual, I listened attentively but could not distinguish the cause, only that it came from some large animal. I had forgotten to tie up the strings that held the door shut. This did not occur to me until too late. The night being a cold still moonlight one a heavy mist arising over the lake gave a gloomy Ghost like shade, that seemed very uncanny. Before I had decided on my plan of action, the door was pushed aside and a great Cinnamon Bear came in. I gave a shoop, sprang for my large sheath knife, and with one stroke opened a passage through the back end of the tent. I bolted through; as I jumped down from the logs, I saw the bear making for me. I did not take any more time for looking, but shinnied up a pine tree close at hand. I never went into a tree quicker. I did not find it a pleasure resort; the branches were few and far between that caused me to use my clinging capacity more than I enjoyed. Only the fear of that beast prevented my falling. My wardrobe of a necessity being quite scanty I soon began to feel the night air. The animal came out passing around the tent, and returned with a cub half grown. The old one tore an opening into the side of the tent and proceeded to go through my goods. They soon found my condensed milk, biting holes in the cans. The milk would come through; they would gether it with their tonges. They seemed to enjoy the find, judging from the many satisfied grunts that came my way. How I did wish nature had given me more sand*, for just then I felt quite hostile. They destroyed a dozen or more and proceeded to destroy many things. Finally they found the sugar bag that contains my winters supply. This they finished up entirely. Then they took a rest. The old one clasping the cub between her fore paws, they laid down and remained thus until daylight. Getting up, she came to the foot of the tree, looked up with a twinkle I fancied in her eye, and followed her cub into the bush.
Then my courage came sufficiently strong enough to venture a descent. I was benumed, stiff, and quite exhausted. It required considerable time to secure a fire, and a long time to get enough warmth in my body to think. When I did, the tent business ended for me, and I would build a cabin then and there *courage
For more information on Joseph L. Wescott follow the links below:
http://www.kauffmanhouse.org/People/Wescott.html
http://www.kauffmanhouse.org/LegendofGrandLake.html
http://digital.denverlibrary.org/cdm/singleitem/collection/p15330coll22/id/10792