he meals were excellent. The
most delicious brook trout, alternating with venison of the black-tailed
deer, elk, bear, and all the other varieties of game abounding in the
region cost you one dollar, but the station-keeper a mere trifle; no
wonder the old residents and ranchmen on the line of the Old Trail
lament the good times of the overland stage!

Thirteen years ago I revisited the once well-known Kosloskie's Ranch,
a picturesque cabin at the foot of the Glorieta Mountains, about half a
mile from the ruins on the Rio Pecos. The old Pole was absent, but his
wife was there; and, although I had not seen her for fifteen years, she
remembered me well, and at once began to deplore the changed condition
of the country since the advent of the railroad, declaring it had ruined
their family with many others. I could not disagree with her view of
the matter, as I looked on the debris of a former relative greatness
all around me. I recalled the fact that once Kosloskie's Ranch was the
favourite eating station on the Trail; where you were ever sure of a
substantial meal--the main feature of which was the delicious brook
trout, which were caught out of the stream which ran near the door while
you were washing the dust out of your eyes and ears.

The trout have vacated the Pecos; the ranch is a ruin, and stands in
grim contrast with the old temple and church on the hill; and both are
monuments of civilizations that will never come again.

Weeds and sunflowers mark the once broad trail to the quaint Aztec city,
and silence reigns in the beautiful valley, save when broken by the
passage of "The Flyer" of the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe railway, as
it struggles up the heavy grade of the Glorieta Mountains a mile or more
distant.

Besides the driver, there was another employee--the conductor or
messenger, as he was called. He had charge of the mail and express
matter, collected the fares, and attended generally to the requirements
of those committed to his care during the tedious journey; for he was
not changed like the driver, but stayed with the coach from its starting
to its destination. Sometimes fourteen individuals were accommodated in
case of emergency; but it was terribly crowded and uncomfortable riding,
with no chance to stretch your limbs, save for a few moments at stations
where you ate and changed animals.

In starting from Independence, powerful horses were attached to the
coach--generally four in number; but at