United States exploring expeditions, and spy in the Mexican war as well as in the war of the rebellion.  Antobees still lives on the outskirts of Pueblo, and his scarred and bronzed face, framed by flowing locks of jet-black hair, is familiar to all.  The frame that has endured so much is now bent, and health is at last broken, and about a year since an effort was made by Judge Bradford and others to secure him a pension.  But twenty years back he was in his full vigor and able to maintain his own against all odds.  Whether or not it is true we cannot say, but certain it is that he is credited with causing the death of Juan Chiquito.  An Indian called “Chickey” actually did the deed, lying in ambush for his victim.  Perhaps few were sorry at the Mexican’s sudden taking off, and in a country where Judge Lynch alone executes the laws the whole transaction was no doubt regarded as eminently proper.

Among those who came to Pueblo with the influx of 1858 were two brothers from Ohio, Josiah and Stephen Smith.  Stalwart young men were these, of a different type from the Kansans and Missourians, yet not of the sort to be imposed upon.  They were crack rifle-shots, and even then held decided opinions on the Indian question—­opinions which subsequent experiences have served to emphasize, but not change.  And what with constant troubles with the savages, as well as with the scarcely less intractable Kansans, their first years in the Far West could not be called altogether pleasant.  Many a time have their lives been in danger from bands of outlaw immigrants, who, dissatisfied with not finding gold lying about as they had expected, sought to revenge themselves upon the settlers, whom they considered in fault for having led the way.  Their personal bravery went far toward bringing to a close this reign of terror and transforming the lawless settlement into a permanent and prosperous town.  Still in the prime of life, they look back with pleasure over their most hazardous experiences, for time has softened the dangers and cast over them the glow of romance.  And while none are more familiar with everything concerning the early history of Pueblo, it is equally true that none are more ready to gratify an appreciative listener, and the writer is indebted for much that follows to their inimitable recitals.

About the first work of any note undertaken in connection with the new town was the building of a bridge across the Arkansas.  This was accomplished in 1860, when a charter was obtained from Kansas and a structure of six spans thrown across the river.  It was a toll-bridge, and every crossing team put at least one dollar into the pockets of its owners.  But trouble soon overtook the management.  While one of the proprietors was in New Mexico, building a mill for Maxwell upon his famous estate, the other was so unfortunate as to kill three men, and was obliged, as Steph Smith felicitously expressed it, to “skip out.”  Thus the bridge passed into other