#000|Where the eagle flies|the spirit soars.  A place of|blessing and temptation.|
#001|Smoke signals cloud|Tomahawk Ledge.  This is|Indian land.  Beware!|
#002|Manitou's spirit soars from|the frozen peaks.  The bold |will be rewarded.|
#003|Precious metals gleam|beneath the frozen wastes.|Seek & ye may find!|
#004|The hunting grounds of the|legendary Mohawks. War-|cries sound in the wind.|
#005|The souls of the dispossessed|linger here. Beware lest|they possess you!|
#006|The final rest of a Jesuit|martyr.||
#007|Hans Brinkerman fell|from the brink of discovery.|The mountain's secret is safe|
#008|Rebels gathered here to|conspire against the imposts|of King George.|
#009|Bleaching bones and sun|baked soil are all that's left|of the settler's toil.|
#010|A blessed refuge from |desert winds and scorching|sun.|
#011|Immense wealth awaits|the boldest heart.  But|beware!|
#012|Jesuits fell here to the red-|man's tomahawk - a battle|won in a hapless struggle.|
#013|The bones of Santa Anna's|bold army bleach in the sun.|Mercy deserted them!|
#014|Slaves lie sleepless here,|where waves break and|weep for African shores!|
#015|Hounds bark in the dark of|night, torches flare in the mid|night sky. No refuge here.|
#016|A chimney stack, a tumble |of stones mark the end of a|settler's dream.|
#017|A river boat laden with|treasure was tossed by the|rapids and sunk.|
#018|Shifting sands conceal the|lost haunt of a 'forty-niner'.|Beware mine shafts!|
#019|Rustlers, renegades, rebels|and fast guns guard the|loot of Badman's Bluff.|
#020|Van Winkle slept here, a|decade or more, and woke|to discover a foreign shore!|
#021|All that glitters is not|gold!||
#022|Sacred to the totem of |the Buffalo.  Intruders|beware!|
#023|A warrior, carved of rock,|guards the mouth of a hidd-|en cave. Riches await thee!|
#024|Indian territory!|Prime your guns and keep|your powder dry.|
#025|Here lies the soul of a rebel-|staunch in battle, dead before|his time!|
#026|This precious water, the |elixir of life, was poisoned|during a range war.Beware!|
#027|An old wooden meeting|house, a milestone in the |slave's road to freedom. |
#028|On winter nights the dead|shout in concert with the|winds & arrows whistle!|
#029|Prime your guns and steel|your hearts if the war drum|beats & the wild birds start.|
#030|Slavers docked here with |their cargo of lost souls. The|wind lashes like a whip!|
#031|The haunt of ghostly|galleons.  Cursed be their|treasure.|
#032|Outlaws & lawmen lie|heel to toe in this place|where the vultures swoop!|
#033|The spirit of Manitou|guards the gold of|Redman's Bluff.|
#034|Rumour tells of a hidden|treasure guarded by Pirate|dead. Greed lies buried here!|
#035|Stonewall Jackson, hero|of the South, who carried a|bible & a sword to battle!|
#036|Innocents were sacrificed|here to appease an angry|god.  Remember them!|
#037|1836 defended by 175 Tex-|ans against 2500 Mexicans.|"Remember the Alamo!"|
