The Lost Trail of Colorado
By Charles M. Skinner in 1896
The rugged landscape of Colorado, a tapestry woven with towering peaks, verdant valleys, and winding canyons, holds within its embrace not only breathtaking beauty but also echoes of the past. Among these echoes are the tales of the Ute and Arapaho tribes, their lives intertwined with the land and their stories etched into the very fabric of the mountains. One such story, passed down through generations, speaks of a dramatic rescue, a divine intervention, and a landmark forever changed, a tale known as The Lost Trail of Colorado.
The narrative unfolds in the canyon of Oak Creek, a place defined by its imposing geological features. Here, a colossal rock formation, resembling a keystone, is firmly lodged within the canyon’s narrowest point, seemingly defying gravity. According to Ute tradition, this rock is more than just a geological anomaly; it’s a testament to a powerful event, a moment where the spirits of the land intervened in the lives of its people. This keystone-shaped rock serves as a constant reminder of The Lost Trail of Colorado.
The story begins with Acantow, a respected chief of the Ute tribe. His lodge was typically situated near a spring, a life-giving source of water that bubbled forth from a thicket of wild roses. This idyllic spot, fragrant with the scent of blossoms and vital with the promise of sustenance, is where the town of Rosita, Colorado, stands today. Acantow’s wife, Manetabee, whose name translates to "Rosebud," shared this peaceful existence with him. The narrative of The Lost Trail of Colorado starts with the love story between Acantow and Manetabee.
One day, duty called Acantow away from his home. He embarked on a journey across the mountains to attend a tribal council, leaving Manetabee in the safety of their lodge. His absence was to last four sleeps, a relatively short time, but long enough for unforeseen events to unfold. Upon his return, a devastating discovery awaited him. The lodge was deserted, and Manetabee was nowhere to be found.
A keen observer, Acantow immediately noticed signs of disturbance on the ground. Footprints and hoof prints, distinct and undeniable, revealed the presence of intruders: the Arapaho. This rival tribe, known for their raids and territorial disputes, had clearly come and gone, leaving behind a trail of distress and uncertainty. Acantow, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, knew he had to act swiftly. The very essence of The Lost Trail of Colorado lies in Acantow’s relentless pursuit.
Without hesitation, Acantow mounted his horse and set off in pursuit of the Arapaho. Driven by a fierce love for Manetabee and a burning desire for justice, he followed their trail with unwavering resolve. He rode furiously, his eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of his wife or her captors. The trail led him through rugged terrain, across rocky slopes, and into the depths of Oak Canyon.
As night descended, casting long shadows across the canyon walls, Acantow spotted a faint glimmer of light in the distance. Approaching cautiously, he realized it was a small fire, around which a group of figures were huddled. The Arapaho, his quarry, were within his grasp.
A storm was brewing, and the approaching squall offered a potential advantage. The noise of the wind and the threat of rain could have masked his approach, allowing him to charge directly into the group. However, Acantow, a seasoned warrior, understood the importance of stealth and strategy. He knew that a direct assault could jeopardize Manetabee’s safety.
Discreetly, Acantow dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby tree. He then began to crawl forward, using the darkness and the uneven terrain to conceal his movements. His senses were heightened, every rustle of leaves and every snap of a twig amplified in the still night air.
As he drew closer to the fire, he could make out the figures of fifteen Arapaho warriors. They were engrossed in a game of chance, gambling to decide the ownership of Manetabee. Bound and helpless beneath a willow tree, she was the prize in their cruel contest. The tension in The Lost Trail of Colorado reaches its peak at this moment of impending conflict.
The Arapaho were so absorbed in their game that they failed to notice Acantow’s stealthy approach. Like a serpent, he moved silently through the undergrowth, his eyes fixed on Manetabee. He reached her unnoticed and, with deft movements, cut the thongs that bound her wrists and ankles. Manetabee, anticipating her rescue, remained silent, trusting in Acantow’s skill and courage.
Together, they slid imperceptibly away from the group, their movements as fluid and silent as shadows. But their escape was not to go unnoticed for long. One of the gamblers, glancing up, spotted their receding forms and let out a yell, alerting the others. The fifteen Arapaho warriors immediately sprang to their feet and gave chase.
Acantow, with Manetabee held securely on his shoulders, began to run. He knew that their survival depended on reaching his horse. He pushed himself to the limit, his lungs burning and his muscles screaming in protest.
He was almost within reach of his horse when disaster struck. His foot caught on a root, and he stumbled and fell headlong to the ground. The Arapaho were closing in, their faces contorted with anger and bloodlust. The story of The Lost Trail of Colorado hinges on this moment of near-capture.
Just as the Arapaho were about to seize them, the storm unleashed its full fury. A blinding flash of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a deafening roar of thunder. A torrent of rain cascaded down, transforming the dry canyon into a raging river.
A bolt of lightning struck the earth with immense force, splintering trees and shattering rocks. A powerful whirlwind swept through the canyon, tearing through the landscape with destructive force. Acantow was momentarily stunned, barely conscious of the chaos around him.
After what seemed like an eternity, he felt the gentle touch of Manetabee’s hand on his cheek. Together, they arose and looked around in disbelief. A massive block of river granite lay in the canyon, dripping with what appeared to be blood. Their enemies, the Arapaho warriors, were nowhere to be seen.
"The trail is gone," Acantow declared, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "Manitou has broken it, that the Arapaho may never cross it more. He would not allow them to take you. Let us thank the Manitou."
Overwhelmed by the divine intervention, Acantow and Manetabee returned to the spring where the rose bushes bloomed, offering thanks to the Manitou, the Great Spirit, for their salvation. The keystone-shaped rock in Oak Creek, a silent witness to the events of that fateful night, stands as a lasting reminder of The Lost Trail of Colorado. It serves as a testament to the power of love, the resilience of the human spirit, and the enduring presence of the divine in the natural world.
By Charles M. Skinner in 1896, compiled & edited by Kathy Alexander/Legends of America, updated March 2025.
Also See:
Folklore & Superstition
Legends, Ghosts, Myths & Mysteries
Native American Legends & Tales
Native American Tribes
About the Author: Charles M. Skinner (1852-1907) authored the complete nine-volume set of Myths and Legends of Our Own Land in 1896. This tale is excerpted from these excellent works now in the public domain.