\\ V .-i^ l^^^^^^x ^ ^ ^ w \ ^i; f5S5 »^x^ \ \ ^\\\\\\NN\\'»s>*sssii^^ mki<^- FROM OHIO ROCKY MOUNTAINS EDITORIAL CORRESFONDENCE DAYTON -OHIO) JOURNAL WILLIAM I). RICKHAM. AtTHOR OF " UOSFCItANS WITH THF, FOUKTEF.NTIf ARMY CORPS. .lOIt PRINTING HOUSE. 1879. 7r ^nv^l Copyri. liiokli.ini. ^r 9^ PR EFAC E 'Phis (•(iin])ilati(>n is ics^xM'ti'uUy orter, editor, Uterateur, and dii)lomatist. It contemplated the union of business with pleasure, but rules which spread over Ohio proved repellant to the uioral forces of local jol) rooms, and advertising cohnnns. A midget othce could not thrive on margins that were lucrative to large establishments. Hence business was relegated to the respective pu)>lishers, and pleasure adopted as the unifying princii)le. A si)ice of literature was included to preserve appearances. Distinguished editors were invited to deliver annual addresses, or read original poems. Banciuets were regarded essential for relief and recreation. Annual reunions were held where the Association was in- vited—with assurances of hospitable entertainment. The inviters usually comprehended that advertising in a hun- dred Ohio pnpers, l)y reciprocative editors, was a desirable tiling. Ollicers were elec{es, and })hil()Sophy combined, temi)ered with that pecuhai- piety which distinguislies him as the "truly good"; and iinally, Whitclavv Ueid, editor of the New York Tribune, who gave us his views any which occupied the press un- til the yext reunion. 1 was iiiii>resseion, from the Lagonda up to himself. And the brethren were persuaded that Springfield was his only offspring. The Columbus press people imposed enduring ol)ligations upon the fraternity by a lavish display of lunatic and kin- dred asylums, dumping them into Straitsville coal holes, and loading them with luscious luncheon at tlie Athens lAinatic Asylum. Lunatic asylums are the alpha and omega* of Columbus. Among other graceful courtesies, never suffi- ciently acknowledged, the capital newspaper managers per- suaded the Association to designate each member as a com- mittee to write up special Colum])us features for his news- paper. I am not sure whether John IJopley, of the Bucyrus Journal, has yet exhausted his branch of the subject. At XI all events, this clover arrangement redeemed Columbus from her previous obscurity, and she has since exhibited symp- toms of prosperity. Strange to say, the conventional com- mittee on puffs omitted the Columbus taverns. Toledo, having no lunatics to display, exhibited the ameni- ties of Maumee swamps and grain elevators. Her hospi- tality was abundant. Finally, by the sedulous practice of liberal Christianity, Isaac F. Mack, of the Sandusky Register, captured the moral sentiment of the Association, and was elected president. He promptly took possession of Lake Erie, its islands, and the wine liouses, in tlie name of the Ohio Editorial Association, and has since laid like claims to tlie ])ouiidless continent. In 187.S he enticed a numerous body of bretliren, and otherwise, to Cleveland, where North- ern Ohio hospitality disports itself with generosity mingled with modesty and captivating grace. The fraternity, with characteristic propriety, li})erally accepted all that was of- fered, and satisfied Clevelanders that they really enjoyed it. There is no doubt of their sincerity. Mr. Mack, of course, was re-elected president, and concluded the happy reunion of 187.S, by transporting some two hundred of the brethren, their families, self-invited guests, and one or two Cleveland newsjiaper men, — who object to the free-jxiss system on high moral principles, — over the great Pennsylvania railway to Philadelphia, Cape May, and the regions round about. In May of this year. President Mack created a sensation by announcing the annual meeting of 1871), in the paradox XII of America, — where they put their pennies into pork, and expend the profits in paintings, — togetlier with an excur- sion to the Rocky Mountains through Indiana, Illinois, Mis- souri, Kansas, and across the Plains to Denver. When the Association met on the hSth of June, it was a problem whether editors and pu])lishers, or press parasites, were most numerous. But it was quickly solved by a short con- stitutional rule excluding from the Association and its bene- fits, all excepting bona fide editors and publishers of news- papers, and their families. This excised about a coach load of i^eople who had flocked to Cincinnati with exciting ex- cursion expectations. They crowded into the local enter- tainments, but were crowded out at the railway depot. Doubtless they have avenged themselves by refusing to take the newspapers. Cincinnati people of all i)rominent avocations cordially united with their local press, and took manifest pride in maintaining the honorably earned rej^utation of the Queen City for liberal and unostentatious hospitality. Their pro- gramme embraced a variety of agreeable and interesting en- tertainments, concluding with a brilliant banquet on one of the illuminated hill-tops, at which five hundred ladies and gentlemen were seated. Whitelaw Reid, of the New York Tribune, read an interesting and instru(!tive paper on the Ideal Newspaper of the Future, and a number of bright post prandial speeches were delivered, among which those XIIl of Charles Foster, of Fostoria, and Miirat Ilalstead, of tlie Cincinnati Comnicrcial, were consi)icuous. On the morning of June 20th, one hundred and thirty- five persons, including about fifty women and children, de- parted from Cincinnati for St. Louis on a special lightning train, provided l)y the Ohio and Mississippi Railway Com- pany, and were safely deposited at their destination. Mean- time a large delegation of interviewers of the Globe-Demo- crat, had pumped all the political information attainable out of each editor. It was a neat bit of enterprise. The Dis- patch retorted next afternoon by interviewing the ladies, each of whom was positive— ladies are generally positive on such subjects — that her husband was the handsomest man in the party, and all of whom sneered at the lofty principle of woman's rights, and female suffrage. 1 have no doubt that they stood in awe of their tyrannical husbands, or per- haps were too grateful for the privilege of an excursion to the Rockies to offend their lords by candid expression of opinion. Gratitude is one of woman's strong points. Gentlemen of the St. Louis press were courteous and at- tentive. They exhibited the nocturnal virtues of the city in an able manner to inquisitive young men ; escorted the truly good to church doors Sunday morning; and carried them to Shaw's celabitum, and a lager-beer entertainment on the fair grounds Sunday afternoon. As the water at the fail- ground was uncongenial, it was unsafe to drink it. The beer was sanitarial — so my brethren said. In con- XIV elusion, the generous committee of the Association puffed the hotel, amonj^ other things, for charging us the same as they do negro minstrel troupes. It was a luxury to the hotel keeper to collect his bills for two days from one hundred and thirty-five people, and receive thanks for retjuiring set- tlement so promptly and exactly. The grateful committee, however, were guilty of grave oversight in omitting thanks to porters for graciously accepting a gratuity of a quarter each for doing the duty for which the landlord paid them. On the 21st, accepting the courtesy of a special train of new coaches from the Chicago and Alton Railway Company, the Association made a memorable flight across Missouri, arriving in Kansas City in time to wonder how we should climb into it over the bluffs. But the labor of the editorial Sysiphus was crowned with success, and at night the breth- ren shambled around over the knobs hunting for Ohio peo- ple. Next morning the local press, the Mayor, and other au- thorities, exhibited the city and introduced us to the Board of Trade, where the customary eloquence of the profession disported itself in brief acknowledgement of courtesies. Near noon, Col. P. B. Groat and Col. Smart, of the Kansas Pacific Railway, escorted us to the depot, and on the 22d of June the train moved up the Kaw, into the "Golden Belt" of Kansas, across the Plains, and into Denver. Thence after doing Denver, the brethren surveyed Monument Park ; rev- eled in the Garden of the" Gods; escaladed Pike's Peak; ad- mired various other marvels in that thaumaturgic region ; XV returned to Denver, and again radiated into the mountains westward and noi-therly, some visiting the gold regions of Central City and Cieorgetown, some going to Este's Park, and many through the splendid South Park, and over the loftiest wagon road in America to the silvery regions of Leadville. Thence homeward via Chicago. In all aspects the Ohio Editorial Association reunion and excursion of 1879, were the most agreeable and instructive ever organized by them. Credit for his admirable manage- ment is unanimously accorded to President Mack. The pleasures enjoyed are indelibly impressed on memory's tablets. The impressions of the autlior of the letters which form this compilation, will make themselves manifest to my readers. Letter i. An Excursive and Discursive Letter — From Dayton to Kansas (Jity — A Witch Kide — Slave-Cursed Missouri — No School Houses — A Knol)by City— In the Wrong State — Its Vit^^orous (Irowth — OfT for Denver. " Singing through the forests, Rattling over ridges, Shooting under arches, Rumbling over bridges; Whizzing through the prairies, Buzzing o'er the vale, Bless me this is pleasant, Riding on the rail." From the gardens of the beautiful Miami Valley to the rugged portals of the Rocky Mountains at arid and dusty Denver, is nearly half across the continent. The majestic space you span on rails with eyes and ever roaming imagination, seems measurable only by multiplication of the illusive horizon by delirious fancy. As a matter of fact the distance approaches fifteen hundred miles, and you ricochet from point to point in forty-eight hours. A good horseman might compass the distance in 18 sixty days of steady travel. An emigrant's team would hardly traverse such space in less than the fourth of a year. Such is the triumph of modern art over natural obstacles. Reality has almost ob- literated the dividing line between itself and fancy. Human daring laughs at the desolation of deserts and mocks at mountains. Announce the discovery of gold mines in Symmes' Hole to-day, and before Christmas soine Ohio engineer will report the prac- ticability of a railway to the North Pole. Before a rail could be laid an army of adventurous prospect- ors would stake their claims from center to circum- ference of the Arctic Circle, and distribute carbon- ate and sulphurite specimens to the ends of the earth. If only Young America could be persuaded that there is a "continuing city" where the streets are paved with gold ! It is a witch ride over the prairies and plains to the mountains. You may be pardoned for the frequent apprehension that you are going to the — mischief. Whizzing around sharp curves like a whirlwind; dashing through rock-ribbed cuts like a bolt from a catapult; shooting like a Krupp shell over crop-clad prairies now rich in their diversified 19 summer garniture of cloth of gold and green, and many lined blossoms, and sweeping often with start- ling velocity over tlu; desolation of the sun-burned plains which expand and stretch out, like a baked ocean, daintily frosted with pale green grasses, and cacti and sage weed, until they Ijlend harmoniously with the fiery horizon, fancy figures the iron horse as a furious, slee}>less nightmare, whiUi your dazed senses seem to clutch at airy nothing as a trusty anchor lor hopeless mental confusion and nervous apprehension. There are periods when flying down a long, steep grade, to make up lost time, that you are oppressed with dread of calamity, and you are sensibly relieved when the train slows again to clindD laJHjriously toward the distant divide. Again, there are times on tiie down grade when you feel an irresistible imjudse to shout with enthusiasm un- der the ins})iring iuHuence of a wild Inirst of speed through miles of splendid cornfields, wliich seem to be rushing upon you like an army witli banners. The Ohio editorial party were endowed with the average susceptibilities of intelligent gentlemen of fair moral balance. Lil)erated from the cares of la- borious and harrassing avocations, they enjoyed 20 their relief from the exactions of business with the hilarity of college ])oys in vacation. Hence it was no unusual tliini;- durinij; our llight across Missouri on the ('hicai;o and Alton Rail way, for them to rise in a body and fairly yell with exultation at a mile- a-niinute dash. It was a swallow-like skim across the fields and forests of Indiana and brilliant prai- ries of Southern Illinois on the Ohio and Missis- sij)|)i I'oad, from C^incinnati to St. Louis, and licet as a lightning train should travel, Init it remained for the Chicai^o and Alton "scooting" through Mis- souri, to give us an example of railway speed seldom e(]ualled and rarely excelled. There w(;re times, when the engineer "let her out," that it seemed as if the iron horse and his ti'ail would leave the soliins more than a liundred miles east of the capital. The story of these \)ooy exiles is one of the most pathetic epics in human histor3\ How blessed it is to feel that "(}od tem- pers the wind to the shorn lamb." Topeka Avas the first free State capital of Kansas. Here lil)erty was organized and slavery rejxdled by the defeat of l)order ruffianism. The city crowns a rolling prairie, and from the ridge commands a view of a sweeping valle}'. The distant i>rairie hills rolling uj) around it seem like vast ramparts swelling u\) to catch the rim of the sky and prop it as a canopy. These splendid valleys, like* grand decorated amphitheaters, are distinguishing and 34 enchanting landscape features of the State. As at Lawrence, the railways girdle the city on the north- ern horder, and yon catch l)ut a glimpse of it while you are passing. Loolcing u|) through the main avenue from the depot the eye glances upon a gent- ly rounding summit, and ski])S off into the sky. Near the depot, of course, you may easily hecome deeply cultured in the popular street liteniture of the age — ^^Beer Saloon f' This reminds me, that if the last vestige of the railway track from Kansas City across the broad desert to Denver were ol)liter- ated, a. tramp could find his way to the gates of the Rocky ^^ountains by the double trail of empty beer and whisky bottles — not to consider an infi- nite variety of fruit and other kinds of cans on either side of the road. These replace the vanished landmarks of buffalo bones which once made the prairies and Plains glisten as if they had been em- bellished with polished ivory. The reader will please observe that the railway tourist is constrain- ed to confine his observations to a narrow gauge narration — excepting on occasions when he va- grantly Hies into the vanishing horizon or dives into a mirage on the thin pinions of volatile fancy. 35 AVhon Horace Greeley passed through these then almost virgin regions in 1S59, he contemi)lated them practically, and saw but little else in the present and future of Kansas hut material develo])- ment, the growth of "the grand Republican j^arty " and ''one-horse politicians/' If he had been the corrcspoiKlcnt of "the ideal journal of the future/' W^hitclaw Reid would have ejected him from the Triljune tower with indignant haste. He was the most prosy, if not the least instructive of all the literary tourists who have adorned a page with na- ture's splendid pictures of Kansas prairies. It has not been my purpose to be historical, geogra})hical, statistical, sociological, or more than fancifully topographical only as it might enable me to "point a moral or adorn a tale." For you will not forget that I am merely looking out of a car window, and skimming over the country twenty miles an hour. Bnt I would defy stolidity itself to repress imagination or suppress enthusiasm under the impulse of the magical pictures that flit through the visual and mental kaleido.scope under the in- spiration of the electrical atmosphere and the en- chanting pictui-es of the prairie pageant. Tha fads 36 have been presented to your practical minds in in- finite varieties of forms. I.and agents, town-lot speculators, railway stimulators, tourists, scientific and practical writers without number, have told you that the land is rich and every pecuniary pros- ])ect pleasing; that the hills are ribbed with carbon- iferous limestone stratified liorizontally and coming- out occasionalh^ on the water courses in prominent escarpments; that as we advance it liecomes more ferruginous, and that masses of porphyritic granite, and ])ebbles of quartz and porphyry become com- mon as you progress towards the ne plus ultra of the farmer, and soon. So that you now know all about the geological and agricultural (jualities of this cyn- osure of the modern granger. Still it is pleasing to the eye and somewhat like the charming })erson who occupies your serious consideration, you like to see it and love to talk of it. 1 do anyhow. For indeed, the hills and valleys, and sweeping prairies, are deftly paraded here under the brightest of blue skies, Avhich are always shining upon a brilliant parterre of pinks and phloxes, gemmed with asters and daisies in dazzling profusion, witli here and there the amorpha in rich bloom, the graceful dig- 37 italis, and a toani of cluster lilies in a carpet of the richest f!;recn ever mixed hy nature's wondrous al- chemy. The ])rairic rose is abundant too, and the pretty linum and •j,raceful Canterbury bell. But — I shall be getting tedious unless I Hy from this florid maze. Your iron-hoi'se dashes out of Topeka with a snort and a shriek into one of the finest of Kansas areas. You are in the ''Golden Belt," where the wheat and the corn chase each othei" in un1)roken i)rocession through the l)rilliant seasons. Ceres here revels with Flora in delii'ious amours, and he who unto himself hath said, this is my own my glorious land, is fortunate indeed. Miles ui)on miles of shining corn-fields, interspersed with golden-headed wheat, chase each other into the ever vanishing horizon. Thrifty orchards and comfortable farm houses di- versify the prosi)ect ; the people look prosperous and the cattle wax fat. Yet — with all this fascination of burnished skies and exuberant nature, combined with the excellence of skilful farming, I think he would l)e little short of daft who would be willing to exchange an acre of our Miami Valley for ten of it. Why should anybody in prosperity desire to leave 38 Ohio anyhow, for any land this side the Elysian fields? But you ride through three hundred miles or more of this "valley of Alliama," and it is half as wide on either side.. After leaving Ahih^ne "The Sjiirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, Shuts the doors of all the wigwams," " And leaves the night to darkness and to me." Ahilene closes the never wearisome pageant with crimson skies, and a glaring sunshine ushers you next morning U})on the vast Plains, the Cireat American Desert. In all the intervening stretch of daylight from Kansas City to Abilene, vision is delighted and fancy excited into exaltation by an almost unbroken succession of charming prospects. It was a just union of the poetic with the practical to describe it as "tlie (Jolden Belt" — a glittering cincture of green and gold blended in exquisite harmony. The people who inhabit it are worthy of such a country and the country of such a peo- ple. The poet might well exclaim when his eye in fine frenzy rolls over it, " Oh Christ, it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land." Most of the numerous villages liave a new and flourishing aspect, and the characteristic school 39 house sits upon the liill-tup advovtisin^i; that "in- telligence governs here!" There is hardly a rail- way station and village hard-by that is not par- tially or essentially Ohioan. And the towns and villages have become almost as numerous as in our own thrifty State. Of the number we could hardly designate any that seemed to present superior at- , tractions over friendly rivals; nor, except in a fugi- tive way, could we select a choice bit of land that appeared to possess superior charms over all that vast contiguity of agricultural and scenic excel- lence. Fort Ililey of course, claimed sujjeriority, but its particular advantage is adventitious. The Government has expended several millions of dol- lars there. The original Border Ruffian State House, where the first territorial government was organ- ized under (Jovernor Ueedcr, still stands in that vicinity, a monument of the political perfidy of slaveocracy — an unfinished stone pile. The site of Fort Riley was selected by a poetic as well as mili- tary eye, and imposingly embellishes the tine pros- pect. At one of tlu? stations a telegram was re- ceived from the Oliio citizens of Abilene, which sent greeting to tlie Ohio editors, and invited us to 4 40 the hospitalities of the phxce during the suceeeding twenty-four hours. The party rehietantly sent re- gret^, but when the train pulled into the handsome brick station we were greeted with ex(;ellent music from a good brass band, and shook hands for a half hour with Ohio men and women, chiefly from Trum- bull county. The scliool house occupied the peak of a commanding hill. The county (Dickenson) })ol]s al)out three thousand votes, of which two thousand five hundred are Republican. It is su- perfluous to remark that the village (two thousand four hundred people) is prosperous. The politics of Abilene tells that story. We pulled out of Abilene into darkness and the Plains — about which I will tell a plain tale to- morrow. Letter iv. The Plains!— A Baked Sea — A Plain-Prairie Contrast — Monotony — The Gentle Zephyrs — How they Blow Off Wa,c:on-Tires — Crossino' the Plains — Looking for Bnffalo — Where the Prairies End and Plains Begin— The Great American Desert — xV Buffalo Cemetery — Tom Benton's Ghost — Sparse Animal Life. The Plains! A Dead Sea transfixed in solution by a fiery sun, and baked into sterility! And yet cooling winds blow here diurnall}^ and noctiirnally with unremitting fury. At j\f()notony, the most aptly designated loeality in geographical nomenclature, the winds bh)\v, not guns, l)ut canons. They gather in the titanic rifts of th(^ Rcxdvy ^Mountains as in mighty funnels, and i-ush over the unobstructing barrenness with tornadic sweep. The Plain man who persuaded the credulous philosopher of the Tril)une in his "Overland Journey," that the preva- lent cy(dones Idow off the tires of wagon \vh(>els and straighten tliem out on the Plains, as if on a \'ul- 42 canic anvil, scarcely exaggerated. It is a little tire- some to digest the story, but we may readily believe that the author of it did his ''level best." It en- ables the student of mythology to understand why Vulcan was the champion blowhard among the gods. The south winds of summer, the Indian "Shawandasse," like the majesty of the mountains where she generates, and the measureless desola- tion of the Plains where she viciously disports, are c^^clopic. Hence, regardless of the apparent, though not real, sterility of the soil, you may understand why the Plains are treeless. Groves thrive only under the friendly shelter of l)luffs, for without this protection the irresistible hurricanes would whirl them like arrows into the measureless limbo of space. But for these winds, furious as they are, the Great American Desert would l)c utterly uninhabitable. They are deliciously and exhileratingly cool and invigorating. When we left Kansas City, an old traveler on prairies and plains surprised me by ad- vising me to select a seat on the south, or sunny side of the car, because the Avinds blow from the southward. We were accordingly envied during 43 the journey l)y those wlio lind unadvisedly sought the shady side. When on tlie Phiins no man thinks of shade. The bhizing sun is so tempered by re- freshing l)reezes that you are ahnost unconseious of its influence, excepting its ghire on the Lavender surface and treeless prospect. Anywhere else you would imagine the mercury at one hundred and thirty degrees — to be moderate — luit here, in the glare of noonday, you are unconscious of heat, prac- ticall}' insensible of perspiration. An old cow-boy who had herded cattle for twenty years said that he hardly knew what it was to feel hot on the Plains. Blankets are indispensable every night of the sum- mer season. And in the winter a man at Monotony might find it comfortable in Shadrach's furnace. But I have drifted unconsciously out upon the Plains. Where the prairies end and the Plains l)e- gin is the story of the tadpole and the frog. Night closes the scene in verdure clad, and jocund morn finds you in barrenness. After Abilene yo^ fold your arms and silently bunk away to di'cam in the arms of Pullman. At the Plain time for an "eye- opener," you are in the silent solitudes of the Great American Desert, more lonely than the mariner at 44 sea, or the pioneer in the forest that has never been blazed. The lichen carpet of the barrens has been substituted for the soft mosaics of the garden land. The bristling prickly-pear sharply thrusts itself through the ashy tinted buffalo grass in odious con- trast with the graceful blue-bell that lingers charm- ingly in memory. The rough Spanish thistle, the chevaux. de frl-^c of tlie Horal kingdom in the west, offends the eye with its serrated vigor compared with the elegant cluster-lily which graced the prai- rie bosom hard-by the last rustic cottage we passed in the full glow of glorious sunset. The sombre contrast of plain with prairie is as unimaginable as it is indescribable. But the novelty of the change, and the unic^ue desolation, unlike any creation of grotesque fancy, is, nevertheless, interesting. When the fiery sun lifted himself above the horizon like a great burnished ball of liijuid gold, my first im- pression was of a subsiding storm at sea when the vast waters roll off in the shining morn in grand grayish billows, and lose themselves in glittering foam in the vanishing horizon. An emigrant wagon laboring in the far distance, with its white cover flapping in tlie fierce wind, promoted the pictur- 45 esque illusion and furnished for vagrant fancy a "painted ship on a painted sea": " The fond soul, Wrapt in gay visions of unreal bliss Still paints the illusive form." In this apparently illimitable sea of monotony the variety of its points of interest, whieh com- mand attention for hours after you are immersed in it, and saturated with its sameness, is surpris- ing. But there is more in anticipation tlian in realization. To be upon the great Plains and see them satisfies the first exaction of the mind. Tlie still life before you is charming to the reflective only. Animated nature commands universal at- tention, hence after the sensation of consciousness of being on the Plains the universal longing is for a glimpse of antelope and a view of buffalo. Alas, when the iron-horse snorted on the Plains the deep bellow of the bufi'alo bull was hushed forever. With rare exceptions only is the buffalo seen on this line of railway. Even his bones, which once made the Plains glitter like a marbled cemetery, have been gathered and consigned to the maw of the fertiliz- ing machine. But the pretty antelope still browses 4G on the nutritious grass of the Plains, and bounds over the gray hills with graceful speed when the roar of railway trains disturbs his ruminations. Speaking of buffalo, by the way, provokes me to conjure the spirit of Tom Benton, and demand of him why he tickled popular fancy with the fantas- tic notion that ''the track of the buffalo is the natural track of the locomotive." As a matter of fact there is not a railway across the Plains that follows the track, or even the general direction of the buffalo trail. The railway cuts the trail of tlie buffalo almost at right angles. The trails, plain- ly visible, lead from southerly to northerly, and the railways run west. Benton's notion was that buffalo followed the water-courses, and that this would be the natural direction of the Atlantic and Pacific railways. Observation has shown that the wiUl cattle of the Plains cut across lots. I suppose, however that poetic license must be allowed to ^'Old" Buffalo "Bulli(m." Some of the party were confident they saw a few straggling buffalo during the day, rambling over distant hills, and strained their eyes to realize their yearnings. A score or more of antelope scam- 47 pering over the billowy surface were seen, and oc- casionally a ja(;k-rabbit whose assinine proportions would justify the Irishman's notion of the father of all rabbits. Prairie dogs and little gophers were abundant — and this was the total catalogue of quadrupedal life visible from the car windows. Coyotes and gray wolf are reported occasionally, but they seek their caves at daylight and prowl only at night. Not a game bird fluttered on the Plains. There were occasional meadow larks and gopher hawks, but even these were not numerous enough to vivify the hard features of the desolate landscape. The Plain people said the prairie dog villages are tenanted Avith owls, and there are whippoorwills, l)ut these are wise birds, and fly onh' at night. Not an Indian roams the Plains in all this region. Speaking of gophers reminds me that a Wilming- ton editor startled propriety b}^ solemnly perpetra- ting a joke — a thing of wdiich he had never been suspected. He deliberately inquired "what would a gopher go for on the Plains?" Nothing w^ould appease the insatiable monster but the profound re- ply, "(lO for grub." The party threatened to "go for" him ;it Denver, You may infer from this that 48 the company, in the course of a few hour^s gazing upon the vast vacuity on either hand, had reached an extremity when it was the phiin (hity of some- body to say something for relief. Letter v. Wallace — A Plain Menu — Antelope Fried, Broiled, and Fricasseed, with Flapjax — Where "Buffalo Bills" Germi- nate — Adobes — Pbiin Nomenclature — Gopher, Eagle Tail, and Wild Horse — Weary Emigrants — American Arabs — Mirage — That Girl Again. The heavy train — nine passenger cars — of which three were editorial, labored along hmguidly after several hours of daylight on the Plains, until we passed Fort Wallace — which resembled a circus on a city common — bar'ing the fresh grass — and pull- ed in at Wallace Station for breakfast. Here ani- mated nature was seen at picturesque advantage. It was somewhere about nine o'clock, and most of us had fasted twelve hours. There was a modest Ohio rush for the l)reakfast room, for a smart glance was assurance that somebody would be required to wait for the second table, and there were gaunt ap- prehensions of famine for the dilatory. Perhaps no rush of railway travelers was ev(^r more thor- oughl}" or happily surprised. The breakfast was admirable, well cooked, well served, and bountiful, 50 and delicatel}' tempered with a bon 'houche of ante- lope, sweet, tender, juicy, delieioiis — a disli fit for the gods — of the Ohio Il]ditorijd Association. More- over, th<^ Landlord astonished us by encouraging us to "take your time;" "the train will wait;" "there's plenty for everybody," and so on. Above all, the coffee was good; the milk delicious and creamy, pure (New) Jersey; the butter solid, yellow as gulch gold, and aromatic. If I were put upon my 'davy, I would swear that outside of a California, mining camp, or after escaping from one of jVlcC'lellan's rapid movements on the Chickaliominy, or after a long day's good fishing at Peelee, I never so thor- oughly enjoyed a square meaL There were eleven kinds of meat, all good : • Plain A ntelope ! Beef, tender and jnicy ! Antelope, fried with gravy ! Mntton, fat and tender! Antelope, sweet and gustatory ! Lamb from Jacob's firstlin,t2:s! Antelope, broiled and l)uttere(l ! ! I Ham, Ohio ham ! A-n-t-e-1-o-p-e choi)s ! S-p-r-i-n-g chicken ! Ant-elope ! Yum-yum-yum ! Phlapjax ! 51 Then add canned meats, canned fruits, canned vegetables and fresh — with tlie condiments, and "tell me ye winged winds" "what are tlic wikl ^vaves saying?" The icgidar price was seventy- five cents — Ohio editors fifty cents! Phcebiis! It was a l^lain l)reakfast after alL The morale of the entire passenger list of the train was completely re- established when even the third table came out up- on the portico too full for utterance. A party of us who had packed our viandum at Kansas City with Boston baked beans, cr;!b-ap})lc jelly and the like, against contingencies, were i-eady to sell out cheaply. We shall forever hold the eating-house at Wallace, in the (ircat Desert — the most tasteless desert we had — in ap})etizing rememljrance. The station consists of a water-tank, a little freight cabin, a round-house, a neat frame eating- house with a, ^pniy foiDitain / and an evergreen in a grassy enclosure in front — which imparts to the premises an elysian aspect, contrasted with the surrounding desolation. A hundred yards away there are tlirc^e or four cal)ins and a grocery where merchants sell the rarest of lighting whisky. These are the places where your " Buffalo Bills" and " Dead 52 Shot Jacks" are generated. Wallaee is twelve hun- dred miles from home and still in Kansas. Mo- notony, of which I have told you, is in Kansas like- wise, the next station but one westward. Wallace is a metropolis compared with Monotony, or other stations on the road westward to Denver. These generally consist of a cabin, a dug-out — hole in the ground — covered with slahs imported from the timber region, occasionally an adobe — or rather terrero — hut of Plains sod cut into strii)s and laid with the grass side down. Such tenements are cool in summer and warm in winter. They are dyked at the corners to prevent cattle from corrading them. The population ordinarily consists of a sta" tion agent, his baked wife and their ])r(\geny, with a dog or six. Where the population is a little more numerous the addition consists of hunters or herd- ers, who lodge in chig-outs, and there is generally a cattle corral a})purtenant. Wallace and its adjacen- cies are on the border of the cattle range. The nomenclature of the stations is often derived from obscure, fanciful, or traditionary incidents, or from peculiarities of the region. Hence Gopher, Eagle Tail, Cheyenne Wells — because there are no 58 wells there: First View — probably of Pike's Peak, but not visible to us; Kit Karsoii — after tlie front- iersman, — once a city of live tlionsand people, Init tenanted now only by the station ai2;ent and his family; Wild Horse; Mirage — from the unusual frequency in tliat neighborhood of striking and pic- tures(j[ue optical illusions; Deer Trail, and so on. One is a general model of all, until you a})|)roach Denver, when settlements imjn-ove, and you push into the grazing country and find a thousand cattle on a hill. The I'ailway itineraries furnish the trav- eler with the incidental information desirable in the way of names of stations, distances, altitudes and the like, and a smart interviewer will readily pick u]) some old cow-boy or forty-niner of the Plains who will make it lively enough with fiction, for it is an essential i)art of the religion of your thorough- bred rover of the Plains nevei* to spoil a good story for want of facts. After several hours contemplation of the Plains, you are probably as well ac(|uainted with their gen- eral physical characteristics as you would ])e after a month's topographical survey with nature's instru- mentalities for observation. The l)Oundless conti- 54 guity of space, sunshine and desolation, are most im2)ressive, even from the car windows. The ocean is not more siknit or solemn, and I fancy that mel- ancholy men adrift in this mute sea would exclaim with pitiful pathos: "Oh solitude, solitude, where are thy charms?" It is a strange inconstancy, or an overpowering spirit of vaga})ondage that invests these dreary and dismal wastes with fascination for the civilized Arabs of our own population. And yet the restless emigrants are still "going, gone, and still to go." Their white "schooners" fre(pient- ly fleck this terrene sea, and wonder grows apace that any man, especially a man of family, should have pushed remorsely, if not recklessly, through the fertility of the almost incomparable prairie land into these inhospital)le ])arrens. But still the hardy pioneer, with speculation in his eye, pushes on and ever onward, aspiring to the misty moun- tain to})S that leagues upon leagues beyond, lift their lofty peaks toward the empyrean. It must be oppressively Avearisome to the plodding emigrant with his sluggish mule team, to be passed and re- passed a hundred times on his way westward by the scornful iron-horse. I could hardlv endure it 5 55 and Avoiild fnintically "break for tall timber" — or rather, to l)e accurate, for a trail across the plains where I would escape the demoralizing exaspera- tion of the railway. I can comprehend the capti- vating spirit of adventure that led the forty-niner to scorn space and savage wastes in his eager thirst for California gold, or the fascinations of the in- hospitable wilderness of the far West for the pio- neer who sought new fields to conquer into civiliza- tion, but now that the Plains are as familiar to civ- ilization as ])eer gai'dens in the paradox of America, it appears to me like lunacy — certainly it is wretch- ed economy — to hitch up deliberately and tug a huiKh'cd days laboriously to reach what, after all, in most instances, proves to be a Rocky Mountain range of diappointment. The i)oetry of emigration to the; west has vanished. But you would be sur- prised to <.)l)serve how many continue to plod west- ward in this tedious way. The commons around Denver are camps of emigrants going onward. I^arge numbers of tliem are })ulling out daily for Washington territory, over the mountains yet, and a thousand miles away. And there is also a strong eddy of returning emigrants. Tlie disap[)ointed 5 56 returning hastily and despondently the way tliey went a few months, or perhaps a year or two before. The men are morose, and the women endure un- complainino-ly — that is to say, they forbear before folk to give exj^ression to the intensity of disgust which lowers in their tell-tale countenances. lUit if men go and come, women must. Excepting the rude ranches of herdsmen, railway stations, and wooden snow-guards — board fences — about five feet high, on the windward sides of the track ; the myriads of glossy cattle as ^^ui approach Denver; picturesque herdsmen galloping over the scarcely var^^ng landscape, or an occasional hunter with his gaunt antelope bounds; the little gopluu'- hawk; the chii'ping meadow-lark,' with melancholy music in his plaintive^ song; th(^ "peerf* and saucy prairie dog^ — a hyl)rid of rat and S(|uirrel — and graceful antelope scudding in pairs or herds over the distant billows, the only reliefs to the ever- searching eye, strained until it aches in delusive pursuit of vanished buffalo, are the sparse and stunted minor flora of the i)lains, which you may enumerate on your fingers; occasional variations in topographical features, where one undulation is 57 more sweeping than another, one blufi inore abiaipt than its twin, or one little area in a valley has been more favored with dilatory dampness than its neighboring island of the Plains; processions and chimps of dwarfed though thrifty cotton-wood — the "tree of the desert," — designating pools that rise from a sunken stream, or the erratic line of a va- grant water-course that swells into a turbid torrent when the autumn rains fall and the spring snows dissolve, and sinks out of sight, leaving only a channel of dazzling sand, frosted with alkali, after the snow disappears; and last, and most striking of all, the beautiful but tantalizing mirage which ever mocks the thirsty emigrant and deluded hunter with visions of illusive pools of refreshing water. "These sol't illusions, dear deceits," are almost continuous features of your dismal jour- ney, but they pleasantly relieve the tedium of travel. They are especially striking at Mirage, fnmi which a station a hundrc^d miles west of Wallace derives its realistic name. Standing on the rear platform of the train, tluiv seem to follow you veritable uinii fatuui. until tlie vision refuses to be longer deceived. 58 They are dreamy pictures in water colors, painted by the sun on the atmosphere: "Lakes that shine in mockery nigh." It is plienomenal that the mirage of the desert takes tlie form of a refreshing pool or lake, witli in- distinct borders, while that of a great body of water assumes that of ships or delightful landscapes. Mi- rage, my dear i/ouncj readers, is French, from tlie Latin miroi\ to wonder, and is pronounced iiicnizhe. It is an optical illusion arising from an unequal re- fraction in the lower strata of the atmosphere, and causing remote ol)jects to be seen double, as if re- flected in a mirror, or to appear as if suspended in the air. We may add that there are mental and sentimental mirages, as well as visual dece})ti(>ns. One of tlic mental ])l)enomena is Avhen men fancy snakes in their 1)Oots; or, "see millions in it." One of the sweetest of sentimental delusions is wlien ycni fondl}^ fancy tluit your girl loves you more than tongue can tell. If you are too long absent the de- lusion vanishes — when she goes l)a(5k on you and marries another fellow. She merely changes the delusive vurcuje to the shai-p reality of marriage. Don't you forget it. Letter vi. A Visual Strain — The Divide — Buffiilo Grass vs. Lichens — Fifty Acres for a Steer — Plain Boquets — Cacti and Spanish Thistles— Wells and no Water — Mirage — First View of Pike's Peak — Rounding Up Cattle. " There is a bleak Desert, where dayhght grows weary Of wasting its smile on a region so dreary. There is a lone Pilgrim, before whose faint eyes, The water he pants for but sparliles ani flies." B}' noontide the strain upon your visual organs begins to get irksome, but the resources of a pleas- ant party are infinite. Reading is out of the ques- tion, for besides the apprehension that some vaga- bond buffalo may escape your observation, your mind seems to have become dissipated and rejects otherwise natural food. At this time any sort of nonsense is a relief. A station Avhere the train stops, or any rude r^mche, be it ever so homely, is restful, and you read with a sort of grim humor on the friendly fing(^r-board on a. telegraph pole — "Denver 200 lo miles!" They cut miles in these 60 solemn distances into infinitessimal fractions. And miles become long enough while you are slowl}^ climbing in the omnijiresent glare to Cedar Point, the lofty ridge which divides the great water-sheds of the Platte and the Arkansas rivers — five thous- and six hundred and sixty-four feet above the level of the sea, or more than five thousand feet above the level of Dayton. This is the loftiest railway point between the Mississippi and the mountains, and is five hundred and twenty-seven feet above Denver. In a previous letter, I mentioned the lichen like- ness of the buffalo grass, which gives the prevalent tint to the face of the Plains. It presents the gen- eral appearance of our western lichens, which are the parasites of logs and rocks. Fremont describes it as moss-like, but moss has many tints, lichens are generally grayish. You would as soon think of turning a steer loose on a field of dry forest leaves for nourishment as to hope for nutrition from the apparently desiccated buffalo grass. Nevertheless, millions of buffalo have tlirived upon it through all time, and a quarter of a million or more of Texas and Colorado cattle now wax fat upon it each re- 61 curring season — preferring it to the more juicy grasses of the i)rairies. Bunch grass simpl}^ grows and decays with the seasons. The young cacti is the ho vine asparagus, which accounts for the scrub- hiness of the phmt in maturing summer. A herds- man informed me that it requires lifty acres of buf- falo grass to fatten a steer for market. Four acres of Ohio pasture will do as much for our superior cattle. But we feed in addition. The railway guide-book cheers you with the pros- pect of water at "Cheyenne Wells." It is a mental mirage. There are no wells within miles. They are far to the northward. They were sunk some years ago by the Overland Stage Company, and the railway company appropriated the name because the station was in that neighborhood — that is, a day's canter away. This is holding the word of promise to the ear and breaking it to the heart. A train of platform cars with tanks told the story of water at Cheyenne Wells. It is transported from a point many miles westward. And, like water in the gold mines, is worth about a cent a gallon. The wear}^ passengers broke ranks lu^re and gathered Plain bouquets of cacti blossoms and Spanish this- 62 ties — the former white, yellow and maroon, the lat- ter not yet blooming. At First View every glass was leveled to catch a glimpse of Pike's Peak, one hundred and fifty miles away, but the atmosphere was too hazy. This, b}^ the way, was the first political digression on the journey, and the inconsiderate punster who said Hayes}' was sentenced to pay two kegs of beer at the first brew^er}' on the Plains. Neither politics nor punning were tolerated among the conscien- tious Ohio editors. Next we loitered at Kit Karson, which, a few^ years ago, was a thriving young city of five or six thousand emigrants. In the course of a we(^k the entire city was removed westward, and nothing now remains but a lonely station, a cabin or two, a corral, and a water-tank. This was a speculative mirage. A branch railway from Los Animas, on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway south, here connects with the Kansas Pacific. Tt is dead property, and out of use. After winding tediously through deep cuts and up lieavy grades that sometimes tested the mettle, if not the metal, of our iron-horse, we at last en- 6B tered upon animated scenes. Our normal vivacity resumed its sway. The windows and platforms were crowded with spectators eager to see cattle on a thousand hills. Thick as they flocked on the rolling Plains, the herds were yet more numerous in the more verdant valleys of the water-courses. Ranches and corrals followed each other in agreea- ble succession, and sometimes a neat cottage adver- tising an approach to rustic luxury excited general approbation. The ladies exclaimed, "0 isn't it sweet!" There are occasions away from home, you know, when you really feel glad to meet the fellow- citizen to whom you are thoroughly indifferent in , your daily walk. So upon these solitary Plains a cabin with any woman in it and a hollyhock in the yard, will beam upon your grateful vision like a thing of beauty. The glossy cattle browsing on the crests, and the rude but graceful horsemen carelessly galloping over the billows, in contrast with the ab- solutely still life of the Plains, formed a spirited picture. Now we entered a station that seemed to bo a gonc^ral rendezvous for cow-boys. Tlic Plain was dotted with their camps. A corral larger than usual occupied a slope. On a crest some distance 64 onward, masses of cattle were concentrated in un- easy motion. A score or more of vigilant horse- men wer3 stationed at intervals nround them like commanders ordering a column massing for a charge in battle. Now and then one of them made a reck- less dash into the apparently impenetrable herds, and not long afterwards an interval appeared be- tween the mass and a small ''bunch" of cattle. Presently two or three other cow-boys dashed in and completed the separation of the "bunch" from the herd. Occasionally a single fractious steer stam- peded, and then a wild race ensued to drive him back to position. The scene was animated and ex- citing. Sometimes a dozen stampedes occurred sim- ultaneously, and the ardor of the chase was en- hanced accordingly. The process of separation, or "rounding up," continued while our train drew slowly up the grade and out of view behind an en- vious cut. During the spring and early summer a number of herdsmen drive their cattle together and permit them to feed in common until the calves are large enough to brand. They then sei)ara.te them, or "round up," as they term it, brand th(^ir calves, re-brand older cattle, and turn them out again. Mis- 65 takes seldom occur. The calves know their hranded mothers, and each herdsman knows his own brand. When there is a sharp dispute there is a funeral. Perhaps there were five thousand cattle in the herd we saw "rounded up." The Mexican hucharo^ — cow bo3^'^ — who formerly monopolized this business, have retired l)efore the Western American, and are rarely seen among the herds on the Plains. But 3-0U will find them on Texas ranches. Letter vn. The Mountains — Disembarking at Denver — City of the Plains — A Colorado Welcome — ^A Lively Metropolis — Mining Nomenclature — Site of the City — Delusive Dis- tances — Gateway to the Mountains — Denver a Misnomer — Auraria — Mines and Cattle the only Reliable Connner- cial Resources. " Now I am in Arden, When I was at home I was in a better place." At length the heavy train was. dragged lal)ori- ously to Cedar Point, the grand eontinental divide of the great waters which flow nortli and south. We were five thousand six hundred and sixty-ioui- feet above the level of the sea. The numntains now loomed upon us in their battlementinl grandeur. Pike's Peak to the southward, Long's Pc^ak to the northward, towered in haze and clouded glory. The spectacle was superl). The weary tourists felt re- quited for their long and tedious travels, and were refreshed. The splendid scene was like the first view of land after a long voyage at sea. Descend- 67 inu' ui'adc hence to Denver, we swooped down upon tlie valleys of tlie Platte, and rejoiced when, stiff' and sore with much shaking and pounding, we found ourselves at last in the capital of Colorado. Disembarking at Denver, after our vibratory voy- age — irksome and jerk-some — across the alkaline waste, might be compared with landing after a tedious cruise on the ocean. The preparatory haste and turmoil are similar, and the uproar at the crowded de})ot not unlike the confusion of a bustling seaport. The contrast l)etween the close coniine- ment of the cars, and comparative isolation of the (h'cary Plains, and the riotous rumpus of unloading in a sudden city where everything seems going at a gallop; where nothing l)ut the moral intluence of a hij)-])()ckct ajipears to restrain violent hackmen from taking forcible possession of jaded journey- men, assumes sometliing of the nature of delirium, which re(iuirics the doubtful luxury of a dusty 1)US ride, or the restful ncss of a four squares' walk to lodgings, to restore your balance. Your sensations are simihii- after any wearisome railway ride, but they are more intense at the end of a protracted journey across the prosy Desert, 6S I had heedlessly conceived that Denver was a mountain city, hedged in by frowning battlements. It is essentially a city of the Plains, apparently, though not really, under the shadow of the moun- tains. It spreads over an undulating site, which affords line facilities for sewerage. Approaching it from the east, it deceptively appears to be at the base of a lofty ridge bounding suddenly into a bold horizon, but the railway enters it upon an easy grade and lands you on a level near the banks of the South [*latte river. The foot-hills swell into graceful rotundity a half-day's walk to the west- ward, and the mountains fifty miles beyond leap suddenly into snow-clad summits that glitter in the sunshine like masses of polished silver. Tlie general prospect is attractive, and in some aspects very striking. The blazing sun setting in cloud- less grandeur behind the majesty of Long's snow- crowned peak, consecrated the first view of Colo- rado's capital to us, as "a tiling of beauty and a joy forever." We had been admonished that tbe hotels Avere crowded, and so telegraphed for accommodations. The precaution was wise, for even with this pre- 69 vision lodgings were obtained with difficulty, (rcn- tk'nien fortunate* enough to be accompanied l)v their wives were first accommodated. The rest of us had to prospect for quarters. The hotels and private boarding-houses were thronged with miners, specu- lators, and other travelers. Up})er lloors of vacant warehouses were appropriated hy inn-keepers for lodgers, and parlors perverted into sleeping cham- bers. My old (.Cincinnati friend, Wm. B. ("Billy") Smitli, who seems to be recognized as a sort of pro- prietor of Denva^r, .met me trami)ing in anxious pursuit of a peg to hang upon, and through his uj'gent and somewhat })eremptory intercession I was accommodated with one of the best apartments in the l)est house in the city — (^harpiot's. Some of tile unlucky editors wandered al)out until the hours of night grc'w long before they were settled. ^'oll will better com prebend the situation upon re- volving the fact that during the i)ast three months no less than thirty-nine thousand visitors have registered at Denver })u]jlic houses. And still they come — and go. (h)v. Pitkin, Mayor Sopris, Col. Vickers, Presi- dent of the Colorado Press xVssociation, and Her- 70 man Bockurts, of the Tri])uno, greeted the Ohio editors in ii formal mec^ting next morning, and sub- sequently justified their agreeable assurances l)y heart}^ courtesies — a ride about the city and sul)urbs; an exhibition of the Holly system of water works, and a big lager-beer brewery; closing with a nice entertainment at the residence of Mr. Wolfe Londoner. C'itizens generally, and especially Ohio men, were generous in their attentions, and the party were made comfortal)le. A stranger (piickly appreciates that he is in the midst of business. The commercial streets are thronged with traders from the mountains, with miners and cattle drovers. Long lines of expectant men in single tile at tlie post-oflice windows I'e- minded me of the early days of San Francisco, when waiting for a, letter was a.n event in a man's life — sometimes a sad one. And yet there was more of the repose of a settled city than T had an- ticipated. There was also a- genei'al absence of frontier ruggedness that made it difficult to realize that this brisk metropolis of solid l)rick and stone is the creation of a singh^ score of years. The gam- bling feature of western mining cities, liowever. 71 was pr(u]()ininant. (Tain])linf»; is th(3 open appurte- nant of many saloons, and the Mazinu' lights from upper windows at night advertised "hell" to the wary. You see but little of the cow-boy features of the frontier settlements, but oriental "John" glances indifierently at you with his almond eyes at every corner. The common conversation is of Leadville, of " carbonates," of " prospects," " strikes," "high-grade," "out-crop," "pockets," "drifts," and the like, and occasionally of gold. It is mostly of silver "carbonates," sometimes of "sulphurets" and "pyrites" of gold. The silver man usually has a "pocket full of rocks," or can show you rich car- bonates "if you will accompany me to my room." Strange to say I did not see a beggar or a drunkard in the streets. Saloons of all kinds were in the usual metropolitan proportion, though less numer- ous than was anticipated. Public museums for the sale of mountain curiosities were rather indifferent, the stock in trade consisting mainly of mountain ])elts, a few rare pebbles, and mineral specimens. I inferred that this special trathc is not strikingly remunerative. Most tourists prefer collecting their own mineral specimens in the mountains, and are 6 72 shrewd enrniirh to know that they can purchase Rocky Mountain or PLain pelts cheaper at home. The hxrge higer-beer brewery of which Mr. R()l)ert McCorniick, a former citizen of Dayton, is a pros- perous proj)rietor, is a prominent feature. The editors were choking with Denver (hist when they entered ^TcCormick's hospitable doors, 1)ut resumed their I'ide through the city apparently refreshed. Several truly good men, who had never before — that is, hardly ever — tasted the l^everage, approved the McCormick brew. Perhaps it would be more exact to say that they had never l)efore sampled lager l)i-ewed in Denver. As yet the worm of the still has not found its abiding i)lace in Denver, and is not likely to l)e a cons])icuous feature in the fu- ture, unless grangers succeed in irritating the soil until it ])roduces a surplus of corn. The city was wisely as well as tastefully located — shrewdly for commercial purposes, and wisely for sanitary advantages. Few metropolitan })ros- pects e<|u;d that, which is a never-ceasing object of admiration in Denver — the noble perspective of snow-clad mountains in the west, trending north- ward, which almost seem toppling over the church. 73 steeples of tlH* <'ity. It is iiiip()ssil)lo to decide whether they are most admirable in the glitter- ing majesty of sunrise or in the hazy glory of evening. You will hardly fail to notice, however, that the mountains appear more distant while the shades of evening draw their shaHowy profiles on the Plains than in the brilliancy of a pure morn- ing, when the glare seems to enlarge all mountain forms into exaggerated proportions and to contract the limits of space. The untutored eye is an unre- liable mensurator in this clear atmosphere where distances stretch into infinities. Denverites have a local story of an Irishman illustrating the decep- tiveness of optical measurement. Paddy proposed a walk from the hotel to the mountains before breakfast. After tramping several hours a cow-boy observed him at an irrigating ditch a foot or two in width, stripping off liis clothing. Quoth the cow-boy: "Why are you stripping?" "Bejabers," replied I\it, ''d'yees think I'm going to wet me clothes; Tm going to swim this river." The cow- f)oy in amazement responded, "Why man, you can step over it! " " Not a hit of it, ye spalpeen," quoth Pat, " vcos can't fool me agin. I started from Denver 74 to the mountains for a morning walk, and yees sees where I am. Distances is clesayvin in this bhirstecl country. Til swim." It is ofiicially recorded that when Lieutenant, afterwards General Zebulon Pike, discovered Pike's Peak from the Plains, in 180B, he supposed he was within a few^ hours ride of it. Upon measuring the distance afterwards, he ascer- tained it to be one hundred and thirty miles. Letter viii. Portal of the Mountains —Denver a Misnomer — Anraria — Arcbiteotnre — Business Prospects — Mines and Cattle the Princii)al Resources — Great Sheep and Cattle Pegion — Water Supplies — The Denver Press — City of Pivulets — Flowers and Trees but no Sward. "A rolling stone gathers no moss." Denver is the gateway to the mountains as well as the natural center of travel from the east, north and south. The great highway from the east, the Kansas Pacific Railway, found Denver its natural western terminus. From it the routes of travel into the mineral regions radiate, and from it you move northward to the open country, and south- ward to Xew Mexico and the regions round about. The discovery of gold and silver has reduced the formidable barrenness of the west to man's sub- jection, and judging from the railways whi(di climb the perpendiculars where the American Ibex was 76 vainly imagined to be monarch of all he surveyed, I am 23repared to anticipate a system of elevated railways at no distant day from peak to peak where Alps on Alps arise, for I declare unto you the rail- ways of the Rocky Mountains are climbing where birds would hardly venture to fly — if you will par- don a Plain draught on reckless imagination. 1 ascended a mountain in railway cars at which a mule would l)alk — zig-zagged it. Settled first in l.So-S, Denver, just of age, lias, per- haps, a population of thirty thousand. I feel l)ound to protest liowever against the change of its name from the original. Its founders, deluded pilgrims to be sure, prettily named it Aurarla, on the deceit- ful supposition that it w^as the site of gold diggings. Mica deluded them. A partial friend who possessed influences, complimented General J. W. Denver, of Clinton county, Ohio, by changing the name in his honor. General Denver never saw the city until a year or two ago. The Legislature of Colorado should restore the original Auraria. Laid out at right angles with broad streets, which are being solidly walled in with spacious jjrick and Rocky Mountain stone buildings, it has an assuring pres- 77 once of permanence, and its architecture, commer- cial, (louiestic, and ])ublic, will compare favora])ly with much older cities in eastern States. Some of its warehouses are more spacious than any in Day- ton: a number of its dwellings would 1)e styled oruji- mental in any city, and several of its church edi- tices are (luite tasteful. Its streets, unpaved l)ecause thcv are naturally as solid as our uraveled thor- oughfares, arc^ generally shaded with cottonwood, l)ut many of the more wealthy people have im- ported varieti(^s of umbrageous trees from eastern States. The gutters are running streams of pure water, supplied artificially l)y ditches which lead from the Platte. Water for domestic purposes is supplied by the Holly system of water-works, and the city is lighted with gas. Large nunil)ers of spacious war(diouses and of dwellings now build- ing, give assurance of rapid growth, as well as of the confidence of the people in permanent progress. There is nothing, apparently to retard its growth, but tlie failure of the Iloeky ^[ountains to yield minerals. Wliile Denver impressed me as a good point for voung business men of modi-ratc capital and fixed moral character, I would say unto you. 78 young men, stay where you are unless you are rea- sonably assured of doing better. Let well enough alone. This is a golden rule in all departments of life. A rolling stone gathers no moss. Denver, however, has but two reliable sources of com- merce — mining and cattle. I have little confidence in the agricultural region tributary to it as a con- siderable element of trade. Of course, home is the best of all markets, but the surplus over home de- mand must be the main resource for accumulation, and there is no market for Colorado farm produce outside. If the irrigated valleys of the Platte and the head waters of the Arkansas produce adequate supplies for the country they will prosper on a limited scale, but it is questionable whether, witli competitive railways, they can pay a profit, after the expense of irrigation, in competition with the abundant products of Kansas. Careful farmers are noio doing well. Irrigated lands produce good small grains, but their agricultural area is limited. Their corn is not the merchantable article of Kansas. No better vegetables grow anywhere, small fruits thrive, and in the lower valleys peaches, pears, and apricots will probably be profitable. A few young 79 apple orcluirds visible from the car windows seem thrifty. Denver ought to produce its own woolen ■fabrics. Colorado is an admirable shee]) country, and water power is alnmdant and cheap. The test of confidence in Denver's future pros- perity is given by the improvements of men of wealth, many of whom from, the eastward have in- vested largely. Col. Archer, formerly of St. Louis, will serve as an illustration. He transferred his large wealth to Denver and has increased it. Real- izing the inadequacy of the present Holly works for a large population he has doubled the capital of the company and is alxnit to practically turn the Platte into the city to meet all future requisitions. To the natural eye his conduits seem to iiow the water up hill. The delusive plane of vision and the engineer's level do not accord. Either before or after dinner the average moral man would be sworn that the water in Colorado irrigating ditches, or for the use of Denver, runs up hill. I remark en passant that the recently constructed dwelling of Col. Archer is the most elegant in Colorado, and would be an ornament in l)eautiful Clifton. But I shall not describe it, for, I find that a ramble even 80 in a new city, is uncongenial labor after so much Plain sailing. It is not inspiring to lariat your sprightly Pegassus and discourse of prosy water- works and boozing beer saloons. I formed a liigli opinion of the entei'prise and business of Col. Archer when I ascertained that he pureliased his turbine wheels for his water-works in, Dayton. Dayton has several representatives in 1)(M1v(U', of wliom I chance to remember two known to many of our citizens — Dr. Henry K. Steele, now a resi- dent of Denver for eight years, and Robert McCor- mick, both highly respected and prosperous gentle- men. The former is re])orte(l to have the largest medical ])ractice in Colorado, and the latter is making a, fortune with his brewery. Tliey were zealous in promoting the pleasure of the (nlitors. The press of Denver impressed the Ohio editors favorably, though, as business men, it was thought that daily papers were too numerous for pul)li(' benefit, under the well-known principle that two vigorous papers are better for the connnunity than a score of weaklings. The Tribune^ (R(^])ublican) and News (Democratic) are tlie oldi^st papcn-s, and are stroniilv estal)lished. Tliev have a liberal read- 81 ing cominiinitv, and are crowded with business. Their local columns are exceptionally well con- ducted. Our party were generally most favorably im- pressed with Colorado's capital. There were objcH'- tions to the stiHing dust, but it is to be remembered that the streets are yi^t unpa\^ed, and that the Holly lavatory is not cjipacious enough t(j supply sprinklers for a city of such rapid growth. The sidewalks, in the l)usiness portion of the city, are generally planked, but solid stone walks attract attention at various points. As yet it lias no State buildings. Altogether, I like Denver. It has a generally hc^althy moral aspect, as you would naturally expect from a Republican city. It is properly styled the City of the Plains, but it is as clearly entitled to the pretty designation of City of Rivulets as Cleveland is to be picturesquely described the Forest City. I admit the rather gro- tesque comparison of street gutters with babbling brooks, but visitors are fiiin to confess that the pure mountain waters purling against the clean curbing of neat avenues are fairly comparable with the lim})id streams of our western wilds. They 82 are as refreshing here as they are novel in their strange contrast with the arid surface and dry ' atmosphere of Colorado. Vigorous trees on the sidewalks are exotic in their artificial isolation, and the luxuriant flowers and shrubbery which adorn pleasant houses are phenomenal. One may thoroughly appreciate here the practical maxim of the oriental philosopher, that he who ])lants a tree, l)uilds a house, and fills it with children, is a pul)lic benefactor. I quote with more freedom tlian accu- racy. The persistence of tasteful citizens in their efforts to produce lawns that will compare with the beautiful sward of our Miami Valley is ])raise- worthy, but the success of their efforts is liardly problematic. Irrigation results in irritation. Na- ture, jn'odigal as she is in many respects, is uncon- genial to sod. The best efforts of persevering peo- ple with fertilizers, garden S])rinklers, and spray fountains, result in tantalizing tufts of vagrant boscage that are little nior(^ pleasing tlian the stunted bunch grass of the plains. l>ut th(^ soil is most friendly to flowers, wliich grow luxuriously and disj)()rt themselves in splendoi'. The verbena thrives with a vigor unknown in eastern gardens, 83 and the lillics ai'c I'adiant witli uncoinnion ulory. The variety of llowcrs that may ho <;r()\vn sueeess- fully is i)raetical]y unlimited. Of deeichioiis trees there are l)ut few varieties, whieh, save the uni- versal Cottonwood — which is to Denver what the silver maple is to many Ohio cities and villages — liave been imported from the east, or from the mountains. I did not see any magnolia grandi- flora, which ought to prosper with copious irriga- tion. Evergreens are abundant and vigorous. Tt is pleasant to linger in this pretty city, and T am confident that it is interesting to readers of the Journal to be assured that life in the City of the Plains c()mi)ares so agreeably with our older civilization. But I round up this paragraph witli tlie sober reflection that he who goes to Denver hoping to find something better tlian the home of his l)oyhood. will not realize his anticipations — a connnon mistake of people who go west to grow U[) with the country. Letter ix. Going Southward — ^Tho Water-shed — Grand Views — The Platte and the Arkansas — Pike's Peak in Front — Monu- ment Park — Nature's Architecture and Sculpture — Cas- tles on the Hills — Ohelisks on the Mountains. "All thin;:^s in Nature are beautiful types to the soul that reads them " Going southward from Denver on the Rio Grande (narrow-gauge) railway, the prospect is charming. The limpid Platte murmurs in devious courses through verdant prairies that sweep up gaily towards the grand divide which marks the great northern and southern water-shed of the conti- nent. The bare foothills on your right, suddenly swelling into mountains, ever keeping pace with vision, now and then at a sudden curve seem obtruding u])()n your course, and abrupt ])eaks, lik(^ towering castles, bound into sen-rated horizons and form the grandest landsca])e views. On either hand are luxui'iant raiudu^s. animated with l)rowsing cattle and roaniing borses whicb 85 gracefully crallop over the i)lain away from the screamino- locomotive, and cozy homes are not infrequent. Where ''oats, |)eas-l)cans and barley grows/' is often pretty and sometimes ])oetic. The farmers look cheerful, and their women-folk, gazing at the passing train a])pear contented. Tims we roll onward and upward a dozen miles an hour or so, until we climb two thousand feet of grade to the summit — a prolongation of the divide we crossed on the Kansas Pacific, at Cedar Point. It is the continental spine. Here we are seven thousand two hundred feet aV)ove the level of the sea, l)ut to tlu> eye the surface is as oven as the rolling area in the Ohio Valley. Vou do not realize altitudes on a plain surface. From a deep little lake on tln^ summit-level, water Hows into the Platte whieli winds its way northward a thousand miles, mingles with the Missouri and ten thousand trilmtaries, and hnally meets water from the same little lake that Hows into the Arkansas, a thousand miles southward, and hurries off into the Mississippi and the Gulf of Mexico. And now the midget train with little aid of steam rolls towards Colorado Springs, a thousand ^*^>; S6 feet lower down, some thirty miles beyond. The scenery lirows l)older. The tnick trends upon the ..** foothills. Rough buttes arise suddenly ui)on the •■ plains and diversify the prospect. The rugged- ' , ness of the mountains is more visible. Now long '^•colonnades and lofty turrets describe nature's bold ' architecture ; then curious and fantastic forms, her striking sculpture. Glimpses of Pike's Peak ^hich had strained our eager eyes have given jjlace to full view of his majesty enthroned in a realm of snow. He grows into collossal magni- tude as you gaze upon his portentous proportions until he appears to dominate all the space be- yond, and yet he is many miles away. The eye never wearies studying the Peak, but the fascinations of ^hjnument Park into which you have been suddenly carried, command your attention. The valleys have become deeper and greener, the mountains more neighborly and loftier; and the rocks more fantastic, assuming now the forms of massive oriental vases, and rude o])elisks, sometimes of l)irds of prey and great beasts, an eagle, a mastiff, or a bear; sometimes titanic human shapes, gorgons and goblins damned, 87 which fickly fancy chisels for its pleasure. Some- times graceful and glitterino- shafts of reddish sranite rise from little groves in monumental gravity. Isolated eminences crowned with great masses of granite turreted and domed, resemble splendid castles and impregnable fortresses. The brilliant landscape is assisted l)y nature's embel- lishment of evergreens, which seem to have been distributed in niches with careful art to relieve harsh angles and modify rude salients. If the name, Monument Park, is derived from the most striking piles of granite, it is a misnomer, for as I have described them, they are not mausoleic, l)ut castelated forms. While Monument Park is not comparable with the Garden of the Gods, South Park, and other wondrous localities in this fal)ulous land, it is nevertheless very attrjictive. The railway bisects its center and winds sinuously through it, afford- ing you many striking and abrupt views. There can not be many more beautiful J^rospects. Na- ture, ever prodigal in her handiwork, has sta- tioned her statuesque productions at intervals to 88 produce the finest effect, and the eye roams over the superb scene in sybaritic enjoyment. All the way to Colorado Springs the views are charming, and the neat little city itself, on an elevated plain, presents a pretty profile. It de- rives its name from its proximity to the mineral springs at Manitou, about six miles north-westerly in the gap of the mountains which leads you through Colorado City, the original capital of the Territory, and beyond the Garden of the Gods, to Pike's Peak, the grand objective point of the Edi- tors' Excursion. The ancient capital is fast going to decay. Our company hurriedly disembarked at the station, loaded themselves into vehicles and sped happily to Manitou, over a fine natural liigh- way of compact granite gravel to the chief sum- mer resort of Colorado. The ride is attractive. Turning into the road from the station, Cheyenne Mountain looms on your left, and its famous canon some miles distant gapes upon you. Then Alps on Alps arise, until you leap to Cameron's Cone, and to the shining summit of King's Moun- tain, from which you soar to hoary-headed Peak. On ycnir right your vision indifferently glances 89 upon a rud(^ rockery in a valley, iuv\ you after- wards feel a sentiment of disgust that your Jehu was a stranger, ignorant of the country, and had carried you past the entrance of the (Jarden of the Gods. You always like to enjoy the keen- edge of novelty, and to have poetry prosed abruptly as we had in this instance, was quite shocking to our dainty sensibilities. The wretch failed to soothe us at smother point, by designating ''Hang- num's Kock," a shadowy crevice in a mountain, where the first legal execution with a I'ope took l^lace in the t(^rritory. T was surprised that the pioneers were particular to seek seclusion upon an occasion ordinarily regarded as a carnival in Colorado. Letter x. Manitoii — The Great Spirit — Was his home Pike's Peak or the Garden of the Gods? — The Village — TTte Pass — The Garden of the Gods — A Wonder Scene — Nature's Gallery of Autotypes and Sculpture — Glen Eyrie and the Devil's Punch Bowl. " On tlie mountains of the Prairie, On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry, Gitche Maniio the Mighty, He the Master of Life, descending, On the red crags of the quarry Stood erect, and called the nations. Called the tribes of men together." — [Hinwaf/m. Our sojourning place is Manitou. In the weird word-picturing of the Indian it signifies the (Jreat Spirit. It was "Hiawatha's" "Master of Life," or the "Gitche Gumee " of Lake Superior. In the absence of authority, I shall insist that the Utes, whose home was in this thaumaturgic region, now so prosaically utilized by pale face iconoclasm, peo- pled the Garden of the Gods, or the lofty Peak 91 which mounts in frowning majesty so far above the narrow canon, with the awful mystery of tlieir unseen Manitou, who robed himself in clouds and thunder when he averted his face from his dusky children, or blessed them from his solemn temples in his Garden. This picturesque little toural village rests tran- quilly in a gap of the mountains leading to Pike's Peak, and to fastnesses far beyond, through Ute Pass — a wild rift among towering precipices which bold engineering has converted into an accessible highway of commerce, to the silvery regions of Leadville, a hundred miles beyond. Less than a generation since, it was the trail of the savage to his mountain hunting grounds, and his martial pathway to glory or the grave. Stupendous rocks and stately palisades crowd the narrow gorge on either hand, and a roaring torrent, sometimes springing into sudden and brilliant cascades of a hundred feet at a leap, rushes tumultuously through a chaos of rent and riven granite toward the distant Plains. Williams' cafion, hardly less wild, rives tlu^ towering rocks not far away, and in the breast of 92 the mountain it splits, is a dark and spacious cavern, once the habitation of wolves and bears, and other savage creatures, until more savage man drove them from their seclusion. An eccentric old hermit, who has trifled away vigorous life in profitless adventure, dissipates his hours in silent meditation climbing the ambitious steeps, or tickles the fancies of idle travelers with the tales of an eccentric vagabond, has pre-empted the cavern, if not the canon. His quarters are on the mountain side — and the contributions of vagrant tourists for the privilege of visiting the cave. The gorge in wdiich Manitou nestles, as in a fissure of the Alps, is several miles long, ranging from one hundred to two hundred yards in width, between ranges of splintered mountains which swell in successive terraces until impatient vision takes sudden flight from some fugitive cone, and settles on the spiring Peak, the only visible rest- ing place between terrestrial scenes and the stars. Pines and ragged cedars, dark hemlocks and grace- ful aspens, j^i'tjtty daisies and the purple cam- panula, which find congeniality in dry granicular 93 gravol, struggle (loiibtfully up inhospitable aeeliv- ities, and a wild sjDarkling stream of li(|uid snow tumbles from loft}' summits in sinuous seclusion, until tliev sink in the sandy plains of the desert. Art, too, aids the scenic charm, for j)retty rustic cottages nestle in umbrageous beauty in the val- ley, or lend enchantment to the prospect on some commanding promontory. Three hotels tastefully located on one side, afford wild views of oven-hang- ing clitls and dashing cascades, and from their pleasant porticoes the eye disports itself in climb- ing the ever-receding summits in front. Pike's Peak is omnipresent, dominating all the scenic splendor from the center all round to the sea of utter vacuitv. At sunrise in the clear morninu- atmosphere and radiant sky, he seems to invade the valley with startling massiveness; at noon he is robed with thunderous clouds and vivid with lightning; and the sun at evening sinks slowlv behind his glittering crown with inconceivable glory. And now reality struggles with fancy for mas- tery. We enter, the Garden oi" the Gods. The lofty portal is 94 " A precipice That seems a fragment of some mighty wall, Built by the Hand that fashioned the world." The weird creations of Monument Park are here magnified into more stately proportions. Enter- ing a narrow passage, upon a swelling eminence, between columnar masses "of porphj^ritic granite, whose shining particles glitter like gems, the oyo suddenly gathers in splendid focus a scene of inde- scribable novelty and im23ressiveness. Aqueous and volcanic agencies appear to have been in vio- lent conflict and produced "A mighty maze, yet not without a plan." No word-painter can picture this gorgeous pageant to imagination. Wonder is excited and admiration commanded by confusion of vari-tinted rocks and herbage ; the striking contrast of rugged hills and abrupt hollows; the graceful blending of sweep- ing plain and pretty valleys, radiant with moun- tain springs; picturesque varieties of monumental shafts and statuesque formations of variegated stone, unite with witching harmony in a noble facade for the grand Temple of the Garden — whose 95 vail seems to have been rent in twain by thunder- bolts of Jove — and form a spectacle of nature's unique luindiwork of incomparable attractiveness. The elements in apparent carelessness have rolled great reddish boulders into fantastic rockeries, through which fragile clematis have fretted their fugitive foliage to blossom in the sunshine ; wild asters nestle in their curious crevices, and tan- gled cedars twist their gnarled roots among the rolled stones in whimsical crookedness. Yonder a massive rock has been poised upon a slender pivot and seems to tremble in the soft summer wind. Upon yon granite surface there is a delicate tracery of a stag's head, and there, are autotj^pes in stone of curious birds and crawling serpents. Upon a pinnacle of the grand cathedral of Jupiter is poised an eagle with pinions spread as if in act to swoop upon his prey far down below. Imagination need not be spurred for figures to tickle eager fancy. Reality itself almost beggars invention. Bastions and battlements, statues and towers, and stately cas- tles, pinnacles and domes, and solemn monuments startle you on every hand, and defy you to solve the strange problem whicli hopelessly confuses you. 96 Tourists have exhausted fancy in tlie invention of nomenclature for nature's curious art, antl usu- ally with pro])riety. Balanced Rook speaks for itself, for it ever seems to totter for a, fall. An elk head autotyped upon a stone liard hy needs no signature, and the [Siamese Twins, with um- hilical ligament, stand bolt upriglit in grotc^sijue dignity. On the top of a rock a badger, wrought by the (Uinning alchemy of wind and storms; not far off a buffalo, and then a bear. Yonder a seal, striking in its granitic likeness, and in the dis- tance a sphynx as clearl}' defined as if it had ])een carved in Egyptian sculpture. INIother Grundy grins in grim humor in the declining sun, and a beer barrel is as plain as a lager fancy could chisel it. The Pictured Rocks of " (litchee Gumee " are mere creations of excited fancy, compared with this wonderful gallery of nature's painting and sculpture. Cathedral Rock — sometinuis designated the Temple of Jupiter — and its opposite, Echo Rock, the twain forming a massive portal to new and charming scenes beyond, start U}) a,V)ruptly from a level plain, and luount perpendicularly three hundred and forty feet in unimaginable 97 stateliness. Their ochre}^ faces shine like polished metal, and decorated with turrets and pinnacles, minarets and spires, their templar forms full well agree with their descriptive names. Not far away noble palaces and castles formidable rise upon swelling eminences in grey granite, presenting most picturesque contrasts: " Huge pillars, that in middle heaven upheave Their weather-beaten capitals, here dark With moss, the growth of centuries, and these Of chalky whiteness, where the thunderbolt Has splintered them." In rifts of these majestic temples, where time has deposited soil, graceful ferns and pretty moun- tain flowers, which you descry with your field- glass, grow luxuriantly, and the sides stippled with little orifices furnish nests for myriads of swallows, w^hich make the garden vocal with their twittering. Hard-bye iconoclastic man, disdaining the sanctity of the savage Manitou, and insensible to the charms of poesy, discovering a profitable vein of gypsum, has driven his unhallowed pick- axe far into one of the decorative tumuli and dis- turbed the soft serenit}^ of a place which should be forever held sacred to sentiment. In plain Eng- 98 lish, an avaricious barbarian is working a vein of gypsum under the shadow of the Cathedral Rock. Another wretch has furtlier desecrated the In- dian Holv of Holies with a laoer-beer saloon ; and a western speculator is negotiating for the site to convert it into a summer resort; so that not man}'' months hence the towering spires of the noble Cathedral will echo with the rattle of tumbling ten-pins and cold kissing of unsenti- mental billiard-balls. Beyond the Garden of the Gods is Glen Eyrie, the Queen's Caiion, and tlie Devil's Punch Bowl, which a tasteful gentleman, Gen. Palmer of tlie Denver ct Rio Grande Railwa}'', has appropriated to himself for a summer residence. I commend his taste but regret that the Government did not reserve this beautiful retreat for pul)lic de- light. Besides its general attractions, Glen Eyrie is decorated with several singular natural statues. Among them the most conspicuous in that pretty- resort is the "Major Domo " — or Lord of the Manor — a titanic figure, in bold relief lifting liis majestic form in stately dignity above the groves in the shaded valley. The glen is full of pretty sur- 09 prises, and has been pleasantly platted with sinu- ous drives throuirh luxuriant <2;r()ves and thickets of undergrowth. The spacious summer dwelling at the foot of an impending cliff, on the north of the canon, is ^picturesque in its wild isolation. The Queen's cafion is a bold castellated gorge in the mountains through which a wild bubbling stream tumbles hastily toward the Plains. A mile or two up, at a ])ight in the mountain where opi)osing cliffs s(|ue(^ze the gap, the noisy torrent leaps into a pretty cascade and falls in sparkling spray into a l)asin of stone that has been fanci- fully designated ''The Devil's Punch Bowl." It was ol)served that the ladies delighted in quaffing from it. The mirror-like water reflected their pleasant faces in perfect a({uatypes, which doubt- less enhanced its fascinations. Away from these scenes so charming and back to Manitou, thence to Ute Pass and the Iron Spring, was occu})ation enough for eight busy hours, and left us prepared for sweet sleep in th(^ cool moun- tain air ])reparat()ry for a trip on the morrow to Pike's Peak. I have struggled hard to get there and will go next time if it founders my Pcgassus. Letter xi Discovery of Pike's Peak — Its Altitude and Prodigious Pro- portions — The Ascent — Perils of the Tourist — How you Forget Danger and Enjoy Noble Scenery — Lake Morain — The Timber and Snow Line — Beautiful Flowers — The Abomination of Desolation ! " Ye who love the haunts of Nature, Love the shadow of the forest, Love the wind among the branches, And the rushing of clear waters Through the palisades of pine trees, Anl the thunder in the mountains, Whose innumerable echoes, Flap like eagles in their eyries: — Listen to these wild stories." Pike'8 Peak is a little south of the thirty-ninth parallel, al^out half a degree south of the Miami Valley. But the isothermal line that hisects Day- ton runs far north of it. Hence the climate of that impressive region is much milder and more equable. All the physical characteristics utterly differ from Nature in our variable valleys, and 101 comparisons result in incongruities. You can not photogra])h {ibstractions. The only superiorities of tliis romantic reo-ion over the country with which my readers are familiar in daily life are scenic and sanatorial — a pure, eiiuable atmosphere with invigorating winds; delicious waters which are refreshing and tonical ; a total absen<^e of ma- larial conditions; and sky-daring architecture upon a plane of corresponding amplitude. Lieutenant (afterward General) Zebulon M. Pike, r. S. A., was the' first Anglo-Saxon known to have identified Pike's Peak. Hence its name. He Avas charged l)v the (Government with an exploration of that country after the Louisiana cession by France, and his expedition moved up the Arkansas Valley \y^ ],S()6 — only seventy-three years ago. But the mountain was well known to the ^lexicans, to whom it was the northern boundary of travel. It is claimed that De Soto saw it three hundred years ago, but that is straining after novelty in fine writing. On the loth of November, Lieut. Pike described a lofty pcjdv in the distance resembling a small l)lue cloud, but soon identified a moun- tain. The delusive distance misled him, and in- 102 stead of encamping at its base at sunset, as he proposed, he did not reach the base of the moun- tain until the evening of the tenth day. His first view of it was one hundred and thirty miles away. On the 2d of December, assuming the level of the plain to 1)e eight thousand feet, he took the altitude of the peak and reported its elevation eighteen thousand five hundred and eighty-one feet above the sea level, and falling short of Chim- borazo only one thousand seven hundred and one feet. But improved instruments have since proved his mensuration inaccurate. Its true elevation is fourteen thousand one hundred and forty-seven feet above the sea level, and about eight thousand feet above the plateau from whence its shining crown commands the wonder of tourists. Ye who have been amazed merely with the majesty of a lofty pile rising one thousand four hundred feet perpendicularly from the sea, may well stand awe stricken in this - stately presence, lifting itself seven fold higher above the Plains. Consider for an instant, that a balloon which soars eight thous- and feet above the valley at Dayton, is beyond the utmost stretch of human vision, and you may 103 form a feeblo conroption of the tr('mondons alti- tude of Pike's Peak. Then iiiiaeate libation to the god on high Olympus, you move onward to the tent of the mountain Cerbe- rus who demands tribute for use of the slender trail. Stepping lightly across a fragile rustic bridge which spans a babbling brook, your party now strings out in single file along the trail and tugs laboriously upward toward the far-distant summit. I was fortunately mounted, but being a little tardy was not far from the rear of the column, but taking advantage of a friendly rivulet that opened a gap in the mountain I used a vigorous pair of heels to advantage, pressed forward over logs and boulders to the front, and from that time onward commanded the prospect. The little trail, only 107 wide enoiigli for a single rider, winds sinuouslv across and up, eternally up, the mountains, from side to side alternately, as the ru^-ged topography re(|uires. On one side your vision and your fancy climb apparently interminable and im]^ossil^le precipices through tangled liemlocks and guiirlcd roots; on the other you glance with an invohm- tary shudder at impenetrable depths jind fear to contemplate the probabilities of a blundering horse. But kind nature accommodates all situa- tions to the adventurous. There is no danger, after it is passed. You glance back at an uglv precipice disdainfull}^ and pass onward to perils unforeseen. Pleasant surprises and wild scenery engross attention, and captivate your f\incy. Your faithful animal, trained to mountain liazards and laborious distances, selects his intervals and stops to regulate his l^reathing. Then your eyes, through a rift in the rocks, discover the "Old Man'' ol" tlie mountain, wliich you contemplated from the goi-ge far down below, standing sentry to "^ranitou," on a giddy pinnacle three thousand feet above you in the seldom clouded sun. All around him in liail- ing distance the cliffs are guarded throuuh the 108 centuries with unfailing sentinels, and far down below in the mysterious darkness of a roaring tor- rent are shadowy forms of men and beasts chiseled by storms of ages, and almost seeming animate. Yonder is a bear on a rock, and there the glisten- ing oval of a turtle's back, wet with the spray of a noisy cascade tumbling over a rabble of boulders that have rolled from distant acclivities. Now you wonder at the curious mechanism of Nature which presents the face of a mountain paved in geometric order, starting from a palisaded crown under a jutting cliff, and lodging with rugged evenness against the torrent at its base. All about you the pungent })ines and somber hemlocks cast their dark shadows on the rocks, and slender aspens whose sensitive leaves quiver in the soft breezes captivate your roving fancy. Your trusty horse moves on again, still tugging and pulling upward, while the treacherous granite gravel slips beneath his well-shod feet, and tum- bles into unseen cavities. Often the eye is caught by the rich and graceful campanula, luxuriant in a desert of gravel, surprising you always that any- thing vegetate could thrive and bloom there so 109 beautifully ; aud tlu> pretty mountain aster smiles whenever there is a gleam of sunsliine. And where a little rivulet trickles from a spring, there; are slender fern.s, chiefly maiden's hair, but no varie- ties that tempt a maiden fair used to the rich par- terres of our own sweet valleys. When your horse halts he browses on the thin tufts of grass that feebly struggle along the sterile trail, and gives you time to contemplate these barren fastnesses of na- ture. The rocks which have broken into fragments from lofty falls, are worn into curious forms and are often roofed with granite sheds, baked by the ele- ments into the hardness of metal, but you are sur- prised to find so few lichens, which so prettily deco- rate the stones and fallen timber of our own moist clime. All this time you are toiling and climl)ing and sharply penetrating the secrets of this scMpiestered realm, and scarcely suspect that a sli]) or a tum- ble may send you among the everlasting echoes. Sharp salients, where your ever-watchful steed picks his way most carefully, often imperiously comnumd attention and bid you beware of dan- gers from which you involuntarily shrink. At 110 one time during our vagrant progress, the long column drawn out against the profile of the moun- tain, with not an ell to spare between the ribbon trail and the precipice, the scene was. most pictur- esque. I had just crossed a roaring chasm on a rustic bridge, climbed a sharp zig-zag and halted — because my horse had insisted — far above my com- panions. The wild view to them was so striking that they halted involuntarily, and they (embel- lished the picture for me. It was several thousand feet to the summit of the cliffs on either hand. Above was a great gap in the mountain, and a brilliant cascade in heavy volume spouted tumult- uously over a mass of granite that had tumbled into the gorge from the heights. Here tht; cun- ning mountaineers — who realize their profits from the trail — had thrown a rude log bridge across the chasm, and below it was a cataract that roared and rumbhid most musically among the mountain wrecks that formed the rugged ('hann(d. Alto- gether the scene was so enchanting to all of us tliat w(; made the "- ■■'■ ''■'■ '■'■'■ Innumor.alile oclioes Fla]i liki' caglps in th'^ir oyrios." in A littlo farther on you strike a. mountain of gravel that has slipped dowu in immeasurable masses from eternally disintegrating rock on the summit, and your good horse laboriously and painfully picking his way along the treacherous acclivity fairly groans in his agony of toil and apprehension. You l)ring up suddenly against an impudent cliff tliat threatens to thrust you into the chasm below, but you twist around it and at length wind into a verdant valley, a garden of the fairies, which seems like paradise in contrast with the rigor of the laborious miles behind you. Perhaps the slow progress my Pegassus has made will enable you to comprehend how tardily the tourist toils up the mountain, as well as how hap- pily fancy converts the severest efforts into lively pleasure. Nevertheless after several hours study of Nature's architectui'e in its boldest forms, and her modest charms in her most mysterious seclu- sions, you are not insensible to the end. T fre- quently discovered myself in(iuiri ng how much longer is this thing going to last? There seemed a ])ossibility that it would finally l)ecome monoto- nous. There mav be even too much of rocks and 112 pinnacles, sandstone gods and startling images, sparkling cascades and magnificent distances — especially if you are unaccustomed to a hard saddle. Strange to say, we rode hours and saw nor heard no animate thing but ourselves and horses, and swarms of horseflies. There were no birds or animals to be seen, not even a butterfly, until we begun to climb the last acclivities, when some one descried a robin, several saw chipmonks, and all of us became familiar with 1:)adgers. And yet upon the pretty plateau upon which we debouched a short time ago, there were ripe strawberries and mountain raspberries, favorite food of dainty birds. The absence of birds seemed more strange because the verdure on the edges of the pretty mountain brook was so rich, and the l)lue-bells exquisite. Our steady and well-trained steeds as thoroughly- enjoyed this luxuriant oasis as we did, but with different instincts, and moved on refreshed when we scaled the next back bone, to Lake Moi-ain — said to be one of the highest bodies of water of its dimensions in the world. It is ten thousand Ave hundred feet above the level of the sea, and em- braces a superflcial area of some thirty acres. On 113 an interior suniniit-levol, tho melting snows have filled a deep basin with transliu^ent water, and fancy has transformed it into a lake. Jt is in strange and grateful contrast with the surround- ing desolation, for the bare trunks that have been left standing on the steep acclivities resemble forests of telegraph poles, and the young pineries and hemlock thickets that are growing up give to the prospect the aspect of an unfinished clearing. But nature comes to the rescue with her lofty mountain scenery, for vi>^-(i-i-l^ to old Pike, the bold pyramid of King's ]\[ountain bare to the apex, lifts himself in sterile rivalry, and forms a noble view. All around upon the mountain sides, the fcxUen pines seamed and scarred with fire, and shining like silver columns, suggest to imagina- tion that they have been swept into an orderly confusion by a freshet that has overflowed the mountain ridge and hurried them towards the gorge below. At the Lake House, a little log hostelry three- fourths of the way to the summit, you pay a (quar- ter for a cup of coffee, in which you find many grounds for complaint; pay another toll (^$l.oU in 114 all) and proceed to climb, climl), climb, it seems almost eternally. The trees maintains a\an-age dimensions until you rea^h thj timber an I snow line — which practically corresponds, — when the timber abruptly ceases at a point eleven thoa-;and seven hundred feet above the level of tlie sea. It is a novel sensation to clutch a handful o" snow when you have just left the mercury at 91)° four hours before, and is pleasing as it is odd to pluck a nosegay of pretty blossoms — not snow drops, either — with one hand, and gather snow with the other. And yet those of us who fancied it, did so at mid-day on the 28th of June. At last we are flattered that we are near tlie Peak. Vain delusion. We turn a rugged point, amble upon a damp green sward, with snow below as well as above us, and gaze on pastures green, strangely in contrast with the sterility just behind us. And now the brow of the mountain, adorned with exquisite mosses in bloom, l)ecomes most charming. Few of us fail to dismount and gather the brilliant little Indian pink that has to be taken l)y the roots, and a sweet little moss with a tiny blossom of most delicate cerulean tint, that 115 must b(> a favorite of Flora herself. The l)roa(l front of the inoinitain is adorned witli them as tar as eyes can reach. We ])roeeeded perhaps two miles through this most dainty earpetinp; until we waded in snow aoaiu far upon the side of fh<' I'<'ak, and still ^yc found iiowers. 1 oathered the eltin nx.ss plants on the Peak itself at the ed-c of a drift of snow ten feet dec^p. and they now flourish in our roekery at home. But alas, the starry blossom has vanishe(l. It was pleasant to contemplate these charmin.ii' seenes, hut they wer(^ delusive. They led to snares and sore trouble. Soon the labored efforts of our faithful horses admonished us that the most try- ing portion of our journey was before us. it was diseouraging, because while it seemed l)ut a short distance to the summit, the rugged i)athway com- pelled us to wind in and out among boulders al- most interminal)ly. Every step was painful and perilous. Often there was no trail at all, but our intelligent horses knew the way and followed what to us seemed the indistinct path with unerring sagacity. Troulde increased as one by one oui; companions begun to succund:^ to the sickening 116 oppression of the rarefied atmosphere. Several turned back seasick and utterly discouraged. We took no note of time. We were now too solemnly in earnest to escalade the tantalizing and toil- some barrier which still towered, apparently so near and yet so far. I never knew what that meant l)efore, and yet we desperately scrambled with grim persistence, in the perplexing maze of stones. There was no levity in the most humor- ous. A joke wouhl have been as seemly in tlie presence of the king of terrors. We Avere about as near out of lu'cath as if we had been in extremis. Gasping, best descril)es the effort. You may readily believe that when at hist we halted at a dreary little plateau of forloi'u boulders we dismounted, silently hitclied our lioises, thanked God, and took breath for a final tug through a heavy snow bank. Slowly, seriously, and almost painfully, we di-aggcd one I'cluctant foot after the otlu^r through a dreary stec}) of snow, and at last stood in the presence of what for a s])ace seemed tlu^ v(>ry aljomination oJ' desolation. T then felt tliat scaling Pike's Peak ■ was the most infernal job I (^vcr undertook for the gratification of a vain-glorious whim. I went up in a snow storm and came drown in thunder. Letter xii On the Peiik— Seasickness— I )i//.y Hit;hts — Mn^miiicent Pajjennt — The Eye Commands the Continent — Kansas, Nebrask 1, Utah, New ^Mexico, and the " I'>ay of the Holy Spirit" — Shades of Fremont— We eatch a Bumble Bee — A last T.ib;ition to Olympian Jove. " Thosf- wlio would see the lovely iind the wilii Minj^led in harmony on Nature's face, A«eena our Rocky Mountains. Let thy foot Fail not with we:irines-i, for on their tops The beauty and the majesty of earth Spread wide beneath shall make thee to for;!;et The steep and toilsome way." Standin.ij on t\w desolate, ocholess Peak, the swift ulder down 119 the unsoen derlivity into the cnitcr's abyss, your throbbing pulse thut leiqis impetuously, suddenly restore you to consciousness and admonish you of the little time you have to Avaste in delirious dreams. A sudden dizziness confuses 3^our brain, whose nerves ache with painful tension, and miserable nausea meanly reminds you that you are mortal. Nevertheless, the eye escaping constantly from its local fetters, soars away to the bright canopy above and then to " - =:= • * The hills Kock-rihbcd and ancient as the sun; tlie vale Stretching in quiet pensiveness between ; The venerable woods, rivers that move In majesty, and tlie complaining brooks That make the meadows green." You contemplate the dazzling panorama with admiration and amazement. No human pen or tongue can word or voice the marvellous sjicctacle. Mountains rise u])on jnountains like heaving l)il- lows and o'ertop each other far as eye can scan, and broad plains spread out below like a shoreless sea. Yonder in the l)lue distance Long's lofty i:)eak in snowy grandeur leaps, and in the illusive liaze. Grey's sky-i3iercing summit chid in eternal white glistens in the neighboring sun. Beneath your feet 9 120 a wild riot of rough rooks that seem tumbling down- ward noiselessly forever into an invisible abyss, and a mystery of somber forests through which the untamed winds revel in ril)ald harmony. And now far away in the blending shadows and dazzling sunshine in a picturesque seclusion enclosed with cliffs and fringed with evergreens, a cluster of shin- ing lakes — the "Seven Lakes" — that glisten like mirrors ai'd reflect images which make them beau- tiful. Red granite and gray sandstone, bare cones and glittering pyramids and verdant valleys every- where, fill up the unmeasured amphitheater of Nature. Long sinuous lines of green describe the course of wandering streams far off, with little villages and a city on the sea-like plains, a new metropolis, lie prettily away below, and swelling billows seem to roll quietly from a misty l)asin to the line of the sky, which the restricted vision indistinctly de- fines. And then down precipitately, far down be- low into unseen depths, the crater of the mountain: "Steep is the eastern side, shagg)' and wild, '■'■'■ - with pinnacles of flint, And many a hanging crag." 1-21 Into it you heavo a l.ouMcr that bounds noiselessly into space, and sinks without an echo into the chasm. Wlicre we stand, good reader, our ey(;s command the mysteries of the continent. Far southward a soft line of verdure describes tlie valley of the Ar- kansas; northward th(^ Platte chases through the plains a thousand miles, flows into the turbid Mis- souri, rushes in swift volume down through the Mississippi, and kisses waters at the mouth of the Arkansas Avhicli it left long ago under the shadow of this mighty Peak. Southerly again the vision sweeps the course of the Rio Grande, which winds in crooked current into the waters of the "Bay of the Holy Spirit"— Gulf of Mexico,— and then at last the Colorado, which drains the south-western water-shed into the Pacific ocean. Kansas is within your ken, Nebraska too, Ttah and New Mexico. A thousand miles of mountains ))reak the vast surface west of you, and fifteen hundred north and soutli. And eastward ranging north and south, the spread- ing Plains. There is no more splendid masterpiece in Nature. The surface of the Peak is indesc^ribably rude. It embraces a rugged though regular area of perhjips 122 fifty acres of serrated oval form on its face, sinking southward into a narrow rocky ridge, and vaults into space. The rocks are comparatively regularly formed boulders of porphyritic granite of reddish tint, with soil enough in the crevices between them to noui'ish exquisite little mountain mosses, which are the only relief to the utter sterility of the sum- mit. A drift of perpetual snow, like a silver lielmet, which tlie eye catches in tlie glitter of the sun- sliine miles upon miles away upon the distant Plains, lies in a glittering mass on the very apex of the mountain. While skipping about from boulder to boulder, devouring the amazing panorama with inappease- able appetite, stopping now and then to gather pretty mosses that blossomed under the very eyes of the snow heap, a chance companion, one Isaac Rothimer, of Chicago, i)icked off the snow itself, a living humble-bee.. T took it in my hands and ex- amined it carefully, ruminating upon the Demo- cratic ridicule which enlivened the politicians dur- ing the presidential campaign of the "Pathfinder;" for many of you who remember that stirring sum- mer will perhaps not forget with what eagerness V2?> the Democratic organs and orators ridiculed Fre- mont's Narrative recording tlie fact tliat he liad found a living bumble-bee upon a snow-capped peak of the Rocky Mountains. Our bumble-bee was in a semi-torpid state, nevertheless it crawled, and being apprehensive that its business end might be warmed into animation by too much familiarity, 1 tenderly deposited it upon the soft side of a boul- der, and left it to gather what honey it might from the shining granite. It was a pleasing incident in contrast with our gloomy surroundings, for hard-ljy is a solitary little cross, marking tlie grave (?) of an infant, the child of Sergeant O'Keefe, whicli was destroyed by mountain rats in the Signal Station, while its mother was occupied with her domestic duties. Mem. — I forbear to spoil a good story for want of facts. Readers are at liberty to Ix'lieve that after those voracious rats finished tlie l)aby, they devoured fcither and mother without lubri- cation. The United States Signal Station, a stone tene- ment of three little apartments, is at once the capitol and metropolis of the Peak. Selkirk in solitude enjoyed an existence of rare sociability 124 compared with the utter loneliness of this desolate habitation. Two signal officers, who relieve each other at intervals of thirty days, defy the elements in this dreary eyrie through the dismal cycle of the months, and profess themselves contented. They seek this hard service to give themselves claims for promotion. Telegraphic connection with the (sub)- terrestrial world keeps them in instantaneous com- munication with their fellows, and daily electrical chat over the wires with operators at Colorado Springs, relieves their tedious loneliness. The}^ live chiefly upon canned food, and substitute tobacco smoke for the pure ether of the Peak. This reminds me that although an inveterate smoker and enjoying perfect general health, cigars were utterly distasteful to me on the summit, and for an hour or two after I had fled precipitately to the cav- erns below. My fumigating companions reported a similar experience, and those who partook of lunch- eon in the station represented that good bread and butter tasted like dry chips. One editor, who took a square drink of whisky to relieve nausea, paid an almost instant penalty. From his experience and that of others, I infer that aleoholic spirits are un- 125 congenial to the luunan stoma.-h in sul.rnnated atmospheres. 8trono- winds sweep over the Peak perpetually. They are hracing, but not penetrating in summer, excepting upon occasion. I was clad in ordinary winter garments without an overcoat, and iVlt no cold excepting a benumbing sensation in my un- gloved bridle hand while approaching the sumniit. The atmosphere resembles the chilliness of a March wind blowing over a surface of snow in the Miami Valley. Immediately after mounting the Peak, the majority of persons became conscious of dizziness, light-headedness, and presently confusing head- ache, with accompanying nausea strangely resem- bling seasickness. To some it becomes utterly un- endurable, and they tly from the summit as rapidly as they dare. But few care to linger long. With- out exception, those who made the ascent this day returned with strangely pallid faces, and scna^-al of them halted by the wayside and retchedly paid tribute to the Olympian Peak. The vioh^rt action of the l)lood in this great altitude was indicated by the pulsation of strong men running as high as one hundred and thirty beats to the minute, and some 120 even higher. One of the young ladies naively con- fessed that her pulse mounted as high as one hun- dred and forty, hut it was observed that an ardent widower kept time for her. Some of our party bled freely at the nose. When near the Peak, ascending, a sudden cloud lifted above it and powdered us Avith a flurry of snow, but in a few moments all was clear again. A half hour later while peering over the cliff into the crater, we were sharply startled by glittering flashes of lightning and muttering of thunder far below. A little later the cloud was black as night and streaks of lightning vivified the darkness, and the deep diapason of thunder seemed to shake the summit. Heeding the advice of the signal officer, who discovered an approaching tempest, the party hurried from the Peak, the tardy catching a dash of rain and hail mingled with snow as they care- fully stepped over the brink of the Peak and tremu- lously picked their way down the declivity to their liorses. By this time the mountain was shrouded in the blackness of darkness, the lurid lightning disported with the clouds dangerously near us, and tlie rolling thunder savored of the majesty of Sinai. 127 And now we go down, down, down, painfully but more rapidly than we ascended, through the dis- tracting boulders. But soon the splendid scenery growing upon dilating vision, becomes a blessed relief. You forget fatigue and danger. Descending, the forms of nature magnify, or rather resume their true relations to the plane of vision. The clifts grow more rugged and loftier, and stand out more boldly, the mountains swell into grander outlines, and scenes which before had excited only passing admiration in an endless gallery of ^vonders, now expand into surpassing pageants. And now, too, you become suddenly surprised at the unimagined activity of your faithful horse. A stronger atmos- phere proves a hippotonic, perhaps, but you are apt to suspect that he knows that his head is turned homeward. Unlike a man, too, he prefers descend- ing to climbing. Perhaps it is because he has a load to carry. Anyhow, he shambles along gaily when the narrow trail is not perilous, nor thinks of halting for a breathing spell until you reach the Lake House, when hv halts from habit, and to let you spcmd a (juarter for a feeble cup of coffee. You take time to ponder too upon the unnoted perils of 128 the morning, but you trust your horse and fear no danger. He warns you even if a bear or a badger lurks in the fastnesses, for he sniffles, and snorts, shies, and then stops if prudence dictates. At length you return to the head of the grand canon, one of the noblest in Colorado, and you descend it rapidly with increasing admiration to the terminus of tlie toilsome journey. It opens and continues to enlarge, like a mammoth telescope, constantly displaying to your admiring vision a panoramic pageant of wondrous beauty — stupendous cliffs, tall turrets, and graceful pinnacles; bastions and battlements; noble temples and solemn cathedrals, whose steeples prop the clouds; human forms on the crags and mysterious images on might}^ pedes- tals, and far beyond, the undulating Plains like a lilac tinted sea, sweeping off in one mighty billow until earth, and air, and sky, blend in dreamy harmony. Halting at the Iron Spring onc(» more we (juaffed again to Olympian Jove and felt like boasting as him who taketh his armor off. Letter xi ii. Fremont's Bromiis — Our Pike's Peak Bunible-Bee Flies Hi^dier— MatluMuatical Evidence — Pvetrospective Views — Ferns, Flowers, and Foliage — Xo Fragrance and no Singing Birds — Manitou Springs — A San:itsix thousand foot al)ove tho i)hi- toau wlicnco we started. The mountains are not richly /miished, though maiden's hair continuously crept from crevices, and other familiar varieties of ferns adorned pretty alcoves near the tumbling waters of the chasm. Tho cottonwood is the tree of the desert; the pine and hemlock trees, of the mountains — interspersed with the elegant aspen, whoso lighter and more delicate leaves quivering ever in the breeze blend harmoniously with the dark evergreens — start in thickets from tho chasm and ohunbor in confusion to dizzy parapets which seem to llirt with the sky. And the waving wil- low grows in groves in rich plateaus, watered by tho swift descending mountain streams. In the highost gorge between towering peaks, most of the larger timber has been swept down by hurricanes, and lies prone among the rocks, resembling a great drift after a summer flood. IMany of their tapering trunks have been seamed and scorched with fire, but thoso that have escaped have boon weather- burnishod until they glisten in tho distance like columns of ]iolished marble. Intervening spaces 10 136 are choked with a tangled growth of you 112: pines, which odorize the atmosphere with resinous pun- gency. Lake Morain, in this lofty gorge, flows water toward three quarters of the horizon. — east, west, and southward to the Pacific. The Seven Lakes, which lie off south westwardly from the Peak in a neighboring basin of romantic wildness, form another reservoir of the continental drains. The comparative absence of lichens in these ranges has been mentioned. I saw none at all on the fallen pines, and but few on the rocks. But these are only incirlents of these overpowering regions, the decorations and reliefs of the startling sculpture and stupendous architecture of Nature wliicli dom- inate the reverent mind. Not the groves, Init the mountains, were God's first temples. The mineral springs at Manitou, to which we descend at sunset, after eleven hours of drudging travel, and travail, as eagerly as we h'ft tlicm in the glowing morning, arc objects of curious interest. The early American explorers adopted their Fi'ciich designation, l\)ntaineH-(iui-h(mille (boiling springs), for reasons not recorded. Pah;il>lc tluit tlu\v \v(M'o so nanicd l)v some French ex])loier antecedent to the Louisiana cession bv tlie Freneh. The si)rinjj;s an^ not liot, as their name indieates, but are merely efferveseing. They hul)l)h> tlirough fissures in the valley, and ajipear tol)e l)oilinu-. The diflference between the tempera- ture of the air and tlie Avater of the s])rings in the summer is frcmi twelve to fifteen degrees, the water being coolest. German travelers liave compared tliem Avith the famous Seltzer waters of Germany. Tlie three |)rincipal flows that have been utilized, are the chalybeate spring in the mouth of the great canon that leads toward the Peak; a strong sulphur s})ring, and a soda spring, decidedly more pungent than the artificial soda. Fremont also found soda sj>rings in the Wviw i-ivei- valley, and they al)ound in these I'anges. G(Mitl(Mnen who have tried the ex- ])erim(Mit, assert that with spirituous mixture the soda waters make a lil)ation fit for the gods. The rocks about the iron spring are rusted, and those over which the soda, spring flows are encrusted with an ellloresence of purest white. A lemon s(|Ueezed into a. glass of this natural soda caused it to effervesce like a solution of seidlitz. The 138 clear waters are agreeable to the taste, and laxative. Of course they are panacea. I never heard of a mineral spring that was not. I observe likewise that invalids generally, as well as healthy persons who desire sturdiness, are prone to tincture such waters. The keepers of hotels at sueh places have (Jrug stores to meet requisitions that are as sure to be made upon them as the flow of water in the fountains. I may add that the sanitary properties of the soda spring, especially, are highly commend- ed by Pike's Peak adventurers who return marode after their all day churn on a Colorado pony. They apply them internally with tine spirit, externally in a bath, and reappear elfervescent, with an a|)])e- tite for another internal api)lication appropriately tinctured. The sanatoi-ian in pursuit of health and I'cci'ca- tion is apt to feel somewhat disappoiuted as lie i-ides from the railway station through the blind- ing dust to his temporary retreat in the gorge, but after a soda bath and an excellent dinner at a neat and commodious hotel, he feels re- moralized, forgets the dusty highways and ai-id atmosphere, enjoys the tumbling torrc^nt that riots 181) under luxuriant thickets, entertains himself con- t'Mnplating the ragiicd nioiiutains, and never ceases adniirino; the pi^ak of Pike. lUit tliose wlio most enjoy this wild retreat — not hy nny means a seclu- sion — are campars who, oriianizinii- a pleasant outfit at Denver, drive leisuixdy up tlu^ verdant valley of tlu^ Platte, cain])ing l)y th(> \vayside as inclination dietat(\s, meander down through the cemeterial ch:irms of AFonument Park, and cam}) around the Uai'den of the (Jods and at the entrances of wild canons, until the penetrating winds of autumn drive them hack to civilized environments. Unfortu- n;itely the wild torrents that hound in countless cascad(\s from the mountains to the valleys in this region of Colorado are now compai'ati V(dy fishless. Trout, once ahundant, are but rarely taken. P]x- cepting your conventional diversions at the hotels, and the exhilerating atmosphere which excites the blood like ether, youi" i-ecreations consist of rand)les in the (larden of the Gods, exploi'ations of tlu^ canons, and sealing the mountains. I think a vagrant month could be most tlioroughly eni<>yed at Manitou. You may ask of the expense. Four dollars per 140 diem for transient visitors, a disc^oant l\)r families, or a protracted sojourn ; three dollars a day for a good horse and buggy; five for a good hack with intelli- ger.t whip to act as guide; from three to five dol- lars for a sure-footed pony to ride to the Peak; and mineral baths fifty cents. Extras as you clioose. I heard visitors complain that stimulants at the hotel bars are twenty-five cents for anything, but that a remedy was found hard-by in several saloons. Lager-beer on draft flows fr^'ely. The first sign you descry as you enter the village is — "Lager." On the whole, the terms are just about the same as at equivalent watering places in the east, and the bill of fare compares favorably in quality and variety, for the gardens in the adjacent valleys are productive, and the Colorado Springs market well supplied with beef and game. California fruits are furnished for dessert. Aft(U- two days of complete pleasure and novel excitement, as well as instructive in an exalting degree, tlie Ohio editors found themselves return- ing to Denve]-, and prepared for new adventures. Letter xiv. From Denver' to the (Jold Regions — The (rardens of tht* Valley — ^Golden City — A Flume on Stilts — Clear Creek Canon — Inspiration Rock — The Old Woman — George- town (iorge — The Miners — Pictures in Memory's Hall — The River Placers — 'Black Hawk and Central City — A High School — Railway Zigzag, ttc. From Denver to the gold mines around Cen- tral City is a brief and pleasant railway ride of forty miles. The Denver Paeific Railway, standard gauge, earries you sixteen miles to Golden City, where you transfer to a narrow-gauge train, pi'efer- ring an observation ear that you may better survey the seenei-y. This sixteen miles embraces the best farming country 1 have seen in C'olorado. ft is irrigated IVom the mountain torrents, and well cul- tivated. The soil is fertile, <|uick as a propagating house, and exceedingly productive. It is tin' gar- den of Dcnv(U- and the uiining settlements accessi- ble by rail. An industrious man here ''with a little 142 farm ,well tilled and a little wife well willed" should prosper. Lands worth from twenty-five to one hundred dollars per acre according to location and production. Those nearest Denver are held at fancy rates. The farms are small; mere su1>urhan vegetable gardens. Golden City, the portal of the gold regions is now, and ever will be, but little more than a i-ailway junction of inconsiderable consequence. It is pic- turesquely situate in an irregular basin l):'t\veen a bold butte and an abrupt range of foot-hills. Its general aspect is droughty. Clear Creek tumbles into it impetuously, but its water su])ply is --or rather was — flowed from a point some miles up the gorge through a wooden flume, trestleated as high as church steeples against the mountains. This frail accpieduct is going to deca3\ In fact it is now in ruins. The Holly system has been substituted for it. Crolden City was the second capital of tlie territory, and its glory departed with the removal of tlie capitol to Denver. A smelting establish- ment is its main industry, and the railway junc- tion gives it its ]irinci])al importance. The train draws out of Golden directlv into the ]4P> famous Clear Creek canon, where you are suddenly, transported to scenes of rudi' .urandeur. Tlie torrent leaps from rock to rock in tumultuous uproar, and finds no pool of quiet in many miles. It is, in fact, a long, crooked, ril)ald, nnil(^ steeps, and by zigzagging four miles climbs five hundred and eighty feet! The track describes the 144 letter 1^ half reversed. A mountain sheep would shake his horns at this hold feat of engineering. Frail trestles which leap across ominous chasms startle timid travelers, who feel sensibly relieved after the}- are safely over. I am almost persuaded that when it will pay, some aspiring engineer will tackle the moon with a narrow-gauge, !)nd take in planets as way stations. The track through the canon is a corkscrew — pulling you like a stopple from the distended flask represented by the golden bowl whence you recently popped vvith much steam. The masonry of the mountains wherever the eye scans is stupendous, but barren almost of the rich frescoing of evergreens with which nature generally embellishes her state- ly architecture. Prodigious battlements frowning above j'^ou in magisterial massiveness almost shut out the sky, and seem like the movable walls oi' tlie prison in romance — ever pressing to enclose you. It is a relief to feel that they are not, and that the everlasting rocks forever cumulating thousands of feet aloft, are firmly embedded by Nature's plastic art. The roar and I'atth' of the train, the noisy waters tumbling over obstructing roll-stones and 145 fiillcn masses of niountaiii iiiasonrv, or plashing into sparlvling spriiv against ol)truding ])i'oiiionto- ries, and tlinnitening crags o'orhcad, ('oiifoiiiid tlic senses until familiarity restores confidence. Fre- quent and abrupt curves make the route a succes- sion of bold pictures. Fancy, ever helpful, assists in these wild scenes. Far aloft, on a clitl" of critical boldness, she has descried ''Inspiration Rock," and not far away grim humor carves grotes([Ue outlines of a quaint old woman grinning in gray granite. On remoter heights upon which the eye can hardly linger in its flight, dimly appear mysterious forms and startling figures — rude statuary of the crags, — tormenting busy imagination with confusing pic- tures which Nature left for luiman fancy to com- plete. The deep, dark gorge, where the Georgetown branch of this line connects witli more obscure re- gions, is one of the wildest and roughest in this range. Two lofty barriers on the wx\st seem press- ing together, to close the formidable fissure through which the slender railway penetrates, and opposite, vast buttresses of sombre masonry threat(!n to choke the torrent at their base. Here, as at othei- points. 14G the engineers found only room enougli between the rcapid and the cliffs for a track. Nature's aspect is menacing and repulsive. lUit it is in sucli seclu- sions that she buries her richest treasures, a,nd it is just such defiant obstacles the daring miner [issa.iis in pursuit of gold. For, not far above, with sli.-irp privations and lal)or indescribable, the uncomjuiu'- al)le miner long ago established himself triumph- antly, and })ioneered the route for this adventurous railway. But all along the canon from the gap of the gorge, we have l:>jen deeply interested in observing rude evidences of mining enterprise. On either side of the torrent, wherever there aj^pears a possi- ble foothold, the clay in tlie mountain side is bun-owed with excavations for miners' lodgings, wdiih' masses of detrita from gulches leading into the canon indicate where they liavc^ prospected. To me these perishing monuments of disappointed hopes and unlettered graves of l)uried aspirations, were deeply interesting. For to me they served as a retinting of pictur(es liung long ago in memory's misty gallery, for toil and disappointment were once my portion, too, in just such scenes. Alas? 147 liow many liay visions and ardont liojx'S li(> en- tombed under tlu'se delusive stones, re(|uienied by nmnnuriim- waters and mocking winds: " '•■■ " ■•■ =•■ =•= God pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall." Ilajipily, youth is full of eourage, and while time may heal the wounds of disa-])]x)intment, it ran not remove tlie sears. I am fain to believe that sueh vicissitudes in youth tit courageous men for later struggles. lUit little gold was found Ix'low the Georgetown g(^rg(\ The i)aying deposits were above, where the cauon spreads to a radius of several hundred feet, and the detrita of the mountains accumulated 111 great bars of rock and gravel, superimposed upon a stilfclay. The })hysical fc^itures correspond with the river diggings of California — tliough the en- vironments are infinitely less romantic. In all my prospecting tours in Calilbrnia I saw no such ibr- lorn sct'uery. Nature is kindei' there, for with c(|ual majesty in the mountains, it softens rugged- ness with forests whose splendor is un])aralelled elsewhere. '"J'he ])resent aspect of these diggings is as confused and desolate as the most discouraged 14elisks in dreary relief against the l)arren mountain sides are elo- quent with the stori(is of pioneer privations, and the clay among th(; cliffs is Inirrowed and honey- combed with cavitii^s that once were lodgings of busy men whose fancies glowecl with golden antici- pations ; and whose golden bowl was sadly broken. i\ll tlie spaces from mountain to mountain declare that the whole bed of the <'anon has been ui)heaved to its very foundation, and almost the last shin- ing ])article extracted. My own little cabin on tlu' mountain side, a celabitum of many delightful reveries and inspiring visions, was ever present in fancy, while passing through these scenes, so like those in which T once toiled. 149 These Clear CrcH'k hars were worked not only onee. They liave heeu upheaved a dozen times since lsr)S, when the i)ioneers found their way to these drear stMdusions. And now John Chinaman is working them with i)atient imhistry — with now and tlien an American. The wd.oh' rearli of the placer re-ion is owned by companies, and is (h-ained and sluiced wlierever the torrent admits paying hil)or. The Oriental still works here prolit:d)ly, 1 am told, where other men would starve. For the plain reason that he saves his money and refuses to dissipate his hard earnings in riotous livin.u-. This is the whole matt"r, and it lies at the foundation of California Kearueyism. No return is made of the placer uii'.inu-, hence its product can not he ascer- tained. It ou-ht to he prolitahl ', for cou-idering risks an. Pa<r V on a scale of mountain grandeur." The same descrip- 151 tion imswors now. A stco]) street, like going up the high l)lutr of the Miiinii that luoks out IVoni Calvary Cemetery, only multiplied by several such bluffs, leads into it out of Black Hawk. Railway travelers, as I have described, zigzag to it, or rather above it — up the mountain acclivities, and disem- bark in a depot wliich looks down upon the main portion of the urban eyrie. It has been compared with a Swiss village. It is well constructed of wood and brick, in terraces. It has three streets, two of them Ibllowing tlie course of deep gulches, the third on a critical cliff' runs parallel with the planets in that vicinity. Our Roman Catholic brethren have poised a school-house — WkjIi school — on a crag up there, and in the absence of informa- tion on the subject, I am })i()ne to imagine that the pupils ascend to it in balloons. Many of the business houses are surprisingly good and were manifestly built for permanence. The Teller House — so named for its buikler, one of Colorado's United States Senators — is a spacious four-story edifice, that would be creditable in Ohio. Hard- l)y is a neat biick opera-house where "Pinafore" was advertised when I was there. You ^scer^d, or 11 152 descend, from house to house, something like going up or down stairs. When the winter snows melt the torrents tumble through town in wild confu- sion. In summer, water is almost as expensive as whisky, hence the people do not waste it, and bibbers drink "straight." It is likewise the home of statesmen. The State was born only thi'ce years ago, and ('enti'al City has already given us Representative Belford, and United States Sena- tors Chaffee, Teller, and Hill. All gilt-edged Re- publicans. This reminds me that previous to the discovery of gold in California, the majority of emigrants to western wilds were Democrats. Hence the new territories and States were usually Democratic. The prospect of speedy fortune opened by the dis- covery of gold, drafted the best energy and intelli- gence of our vigorous young men, and the character of emigration radically changed. The Republican population of the older States swarmed into the new ten-itories, as well where the soil was rich, as where the rocks were ribbed with gold and silver. Hence the new territories and States are Repub- lican, and the Republican majorities in the old 153 reliable States have Iwen critically reduced. If Missouri expects to be aroused and invigorated during this century, she should discover carbonates of silver and sulpliurets of gold. This will draw energetic and intelligent people to her rich terri- tory. The precious metals are irresistable magnets. At Central City, Mr. J. W. Hanna, formerly of Marietta, Ohio, and now principal owner of the "O K," one of the profitable mines in that region, assumed direction of a half dozen of our party who desired surface introduction into the m3'steries of scientific mining, hitched a stout team of horses, and ch-a,gged us up the mountain to investigate its auriferate (qualities. Inasmuch as a descent into one hole in the ground anywhere, is much like a descent into another hole anywheres else, it is unnecessary to exercise descriptive faculties here. You descend in a cask several hundred feet and wind through a dark drift six or eight feet in diameter, guided l)y the dim mysterious light of a tallow dip. The mineis wear little lamps in the frontlet of their hats as in coal mines, which sug- gest an odd i-esemblnnce to mammotli lire-llies. You are pleased with a glitter of various sub- 154 stances, chiefly micaceous, on the cheeks of the drift, gather specimens, and return to daylight. You see no gold, for it is concealed in ore — sul- phurets and pyrites — and requires smelting to separate it from nature's dross. The most at- tractive specimens for the eye are those which display the largest surface of " peacock," that shines with a bluish glitter like polished steel. Mr. Hanna invited us to take all we could carry, and I accordingly embellished my Lake Superior and Silver Islet rockery. I shall not weary you with a description of the mining and smelting pro- cess. The public library has authorities that will inform you on that subject. The "Bobtail Mine" is the richest in this region, and belongs to ex- Senator Chaflee. it was poetically so-called from a bang-tailed ox with which the original prospector opened this rich recess of nature. It may be styled a bully mine. Wliile in the mining regions you are often amazed at mule trails and acclivitous wagon roads used by miners and traders. Glancing at these trails on the lofty steeps safely followed by sure- footed mules, you fancy that they would be almost 155 perilous to a sqnirrol. Rut I was assurpfl in Cali- fornia that a mule coukl climb the Calaveras trees. The snow-clad cap of James' Peak, here looks down upon us in glitterino; grandeur. After a pleasant and profitable afternoon, Mr. Hanna added to our obligations by depositing his gratified guests at the Black Hawk station, from whence, a little later, we descried our train far up on the summit, carefully winding its way down to our smudgy depth. The grade is so sharp hence to Golden that after starting, the railway train could swiftly run the route by its own momentum. Letter xv. Returning from Central City — Dairies Among the Crags — Shepherds an Abomination to the Egyptians — Ohio Men — Invahds and the Phantom of Healtli — Tront Tempta- tions — Round-Up — Sahara and Arcadia. Returning from Central City, the stupendous aspect of the great canon presents itself in its most inspiring grandeur. The prodigious bights and precipitous cliffs grow upon the vision, and the snow-capped range which dominates all surround- ings, passes away in dissolving views of surpassing splendor. At rugged debouchments of wild gulches among these formidable precipices, which, to eyes accus- tomed to our amiable scenery at home, appear like inaccessible acclivities, you are amused, as well as amazed, to not(^ that human enterprise has convert- ed the steeps into pastures, and that two energetic families have established dairies where it would seem that a goat, which fattens on dramatic posters, Kn" jr.? could scarcelj^ pick a scanty subsistence from the tliin and scrawny verdure in tlie crevices. Yet the industrious kinc, as indefatigable as their courage- ous owners, manage to find boscage enough to keep themselves sleek and lactant. You would almost as soon think of establishing a dairy on a Miami river sand-bar. Nevertheless the cows yield the richest of golden-tinted milk abundantly, and the dairymen find read}^ market for it at sevent}^ cents per gallon, wholesale. I imagine that goats would be better adapted to these rockeries. Speaking of cattle, reminds me that there is an irrepressible feud between the Colorado cattle and sheep men. The herders seem to have imbibed the ancient Egyptian antipathy to shepherds. Readers of sacred history will remember that Khedive Joseph admonished his brethren to say to Pharoah : "Thy servants' trade hath been about cattle from our youth even until now, both we, and also our fathers," and he assigned as a reason for this pious evasion, that " every shepherd is an abomination unto the Egyptians," doubtless for the same reason that Colo- rado shei)herds are an abomination unto the cattle men. The sheep litter the pasturage and make it offensive to cattle. Moreover the sheep men hearti- 158 ly reciprocate the animosity of tlie herders, because the cattle occupy such vast ranG;es of pasture lands as to interfere with their interests. Farmers and stock-feeders of the Ohio Valley may readily com- prehend this upon reflecting that it requires fifty acres of average Colorado pasture to fatten a steer. But remember that these cattle are not fed with hay, fodder, or grain, at any time. They browse exclusively for their Hesh. As usual, Ohio men step to the front even in this business, Messrs. Will, and Val. Dickey, of Dayton, being among the largest, if not the most extensive cattle-feeders in Colorado. Their herds num])er eight thousand head, and they range over three counties. Instead ot driving their cattle to the customary market this year, they have l)uilt a commodious abattoir at Leadville, from which they supply the miners with meat. (Jol. Walter B. Pease, also a Daytonian, whose graceful and instructive letters occasionally interest readers of the -Iouiinal, contents himself with the cont(unpla,tive jind ruminntive life of a peaceful shepherd in tlic neighboring wilds of New Mexico. Ohio men, too, are among the principal silver miners, ex-Governor Evans, formerl}^ of Ohio, be- ing one of the most successful operators, as well as a 159 controlino- ownrvof iho South I^irk ( narrow-pjauge) l^Milway, now moving r;ii)i(lly upon Leadvillo, and onward as circumstan(M^s mav dictate Mr. Frank Dunlcvy, of Cincinnati, and tlio well-known "Billy" Smith, of that city, arc also extensive silver opera- tors. John Delano and Joe Dwyer, well-known Buckeyes, are reputed to have made "a pile" in carhonates. It was liktnvise mentioned as a dul)i- ons trihute to Ohio enterprise^ that the most desper- ate " road agent" ever known to condnct whol(>sale- highway robhing enterprises in the Rocky Moun- tains was an Ohio man. At Golden again, yon are surprised at the nnm- l)er of l)usiness men going hack to their avocations (Monday evening) at Denver from their summer homes at Idaho Springs and Este's Park. They go up into the mountains Saturday to visit then- families, and angle for l)rook trout. They tell tempting stories of trout fishing, elk hunting, and mountain strawberries— a most dainty and deli- cious fruit. Este's Park is at t,he foot of Long's Peak, one of tin; loftiest sunnnits in all the Colorado range of Pvocky Mountains. Some of the invalids here camp out in tents and while away the sum- mer pleasantly, pursuing the phantom of health as 160 they who nro not entirely without hope; others in comfortable cottages; and pleasure seekers in an elegant hotel managed ])y one of the famous Stet- sons. "Billy " Smitli tempted mo with a prospect of a hundred speckled trout a day — "millions in it" — near this noble Park, and I can't tell now how I resisted that and his mountainous hospitality. And now, in a brief fortnight, we have com- passed seventeen hundred miles of railway travel, accepted irresistible hospitalities innumerable; mounted Pike's Peak; drank in with appetite that grew upon what it fed, the weird attractions of the Garden of the Gods; penetrated the golden, mys- teries of the aural mountains, and are yearning for home again. The mind's eye docs not roll in fine frenzy across the drear}^ plains. There is a mental and moral repulsion about the solemn intervening prospect somewhat like the sentiment that affects him who stands on a distant foreign shore contem- plating the wild and forlorn distance of the ocean between himself and home. But once across this desolate expanse, basking again in the verdure and luxuriance of the "(lolden Belt" and Kansas prairies, it seems like a llight from Sahara to Arcadia. APPENDIX. APPENDIX The aiinuiil address of 1871), before the Ohio Editorial Association, was dehvered at the reunion banquet in Cin- cinnati on the nijrht of .lune lUth, )jy Hon. Whitelaw Keid, editor of tlie New York Tribune, on "The Ideal Newspaper of the Future." 1 pubish merely his introduction, that being specially addressed to the Association. President Mack, introducing Mr. Reid, happily mentioned that among other Ohio products, it had been her fortune to give to the country some of its most distinguished editors, such as Whitelaw Reid, of the New York Tribune; Murat Halstead, «.f the Cincinnati Connnercial ; Samuel K. Reed, of the Cincinnati Gazette; Joseph Medill, of the Chicago Tribune; Joseph McCulIagh, of the St. Louis Clobe-Democrat ; William D. Howells, of the Atlantic Monthly, and Henry V. Boynton, the Washington corresponers, both lane" shrieked out shrill, loud and long — it was the midnigid signal for the waymiller street line. Its effect extinguished the tires of oratory uj) to that moment hurning in the hosoms ()f the anxious ones set down for responses, and it put the whole com)>any to (light. Some of our country friends imagiiUMl the infeiiial thing a sort of last tnnnp. 'J'he icsiu'rection of rising up was complete. The ban(|uet was at an end. II. I publish the following letter as a matter of geneial interest :' kuo.m kansas ( tiy. "Kansas Pacific Railway, "CJENKUAL PasSKN(;1-;U and TiCKIOT DKi'Airr.MKNT, "Kansas City, IMo., July 11, IS7!I. [(yurres|)oi)(l(M)ce of the Djiyton Joiunal.] '■ ir. /). Bicklmni., Esq., Editor of the Journal, Daijton, Ohio: "My Dkak Sir: I take i)leasure in acknowk-dging the receipt of coi)ies of your excelk'iit JoiiiXAL: containing entertaining letters le wlio are living from hand to mouth in erowded eities, without a prospect of ever being- able to improve tlieir condition where they are. There are numy mechanics, laborers, and farmers who fail to 'get on in the world' simply because they have no chance of doing so. For instance, a mechanic witli a family (as all good men ought to have) can hardly expect to lay up much for a rainy day (jn the ordinary wages paid unskilled labor, or that i)aid skilled labor in these days of sharj) competition. Nor, indeed, can the farm-hand reasonably expect from the })roceeds of his daily toil to purchase a farm in localities where lands are held at high valuations. While, unless circumstances of climate justify it, I would not advise a well-to-do farmer or mechanic to make a change of location, there are thousands of men whose condition would be materially bettered by removing to a country where lands can l)e i)r()curcd under the various national laws for the disposal of the pu])lic domain, or purchased at small cost of the various land-grant railways. I contend that a man with a few hundred dollars can come to Kansas and become a successful, and, in a great measure, independent farmer in a very few years, whereas it might take an entire life time of har