A Lady's Life In The Rocky Mountains By Isabella L. Bird
























































































































 -   It was buried in the afternoon, and from
the looks of the brother, who continued to sob and moan, his - Page 88
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It Was Buried In The Afternoon, And From The Looks Of The Brother, Who Continued To Sob And Moan, His

End cannot be far off. The - - -s say that many go to the Springs in the last stage of consumption,

Thinking that the Colorado climate will cure them, without money enough to pay for even the coarsest board. We talked most of that day, and I equipped myself with arctics and warm gloves for the mountain tour which has been planned for me, and I gave Birdie the Sabbath she was entitled to on Tuesday, for I found, on arriving at the Springs, that the day I crossed the Arkansas Divide was Sunday, though I did not know it. Several friends of Miss Kingsley called on me; she is much remembered and beloved. This is not an expensive tour; we cost about ten shillings a day, and the five days which I have spent en route from Denver have cost something less than the fare for the few hours' journey by the cars. There are no real difficulties. It is a splendid life for health and enjoyment. All my luggage being in a pack, and my conveyance being a horse, we can go anywhere where we can get food and shelter.

GREAT GORGE OF THE MANITOU, October 29.

This is a highly picturesque place, with several springs, still and effervescing, the virtues of which were well known to the Indians. Near it are places, the names of which are familiar to every one - the Garden of the Gods, Glen Eyrie, Pike's Peak, Monument Park, and the Ute Pass. It has two or three immense hotels, and a few houses picturesquely situated. It is thronged by thousands of people in the summer who come to drink the waters, try the camp cure, and make mountain excursions; but it is all quiet now, and there are only a few lingerers in this immense hotel. There is a rushing torrent in a valley, with mountains, covered with snow and rising to a height of nearly 15,000 feet, overhanging it. It is grand and awful, and has a strange, solemn beauty like death. And the Snowy Mountains are pierced by the torrent which has excavated the Ute Pass, by which, to-morrow, I hope to go into the higher regions. But all may be "lost for want of a horseshoe nail." One of Birdie's shoes is loose, and not a nail is to be got here, or can be got till I have ridden for ten miles up the Pass. Birdie amuses every one with her funny ways. She always follows me closely, and to-day got quite into a house and pushed the parlor door open. She walks after me with her head laid on my shoulder, licking my face and teasing me for sugar, and sometimes, when any one else takes hold of her, she rears and kicks, and the vicious bronco soul comes into her eyes. Her face is cunning and pretty, and she makes a funny, blarneying noise when I go up to her.

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