banks of flowers, and the massive towers of the castle.
For background rose the rugged hills!--Nothing could have been farther
from our home in Neshonoc. Glowing with esthetic delight in the remote
and singular beauty of the place, Zulime took an artist's keen interest
in alien loveliness. It threw our life into commonplace drab. And yet it
was factitious. It had the transient quality of a dream in which we were
but masqueraders.

Two days later, at the invitation of General Palmer, we joined his party
in a trip over the short-line railway to Cripple Creek, traveling in his
private car, and the luxury of this novel experience made my wife's eyes
shine with girlish delight.--I professed alarm, "I don't know where all
this glory is going to land us," I warned, "after this Aladdin's-lamp
luxury and leisure, how can I get you back into washing dishes and
canning fruit in West Salem?"

She laughed at this, as she did at most of my fears. Serene acceptance
of what came was her dominant characteristic. Her faith in the future
was so perfect that she was willing to make the fullest use of the
present.

The day was gloriously clear, with great white clouds piled high above
the peaks, and as the train crept steadily upward, feeling its way
across the mountain's shoulder, we were able to look back and down and
far out upon the plain which was a shoreless sea of liquid opal. At ten
thousand feet the foot hills (flat as a rug) were so rich in color, so
alluring in their spread that we could scarcely believe them to be
composed of rocks and earth.

After a day of sight-seeing we returned, at sunset, to the Springs, with
all of the pomp of railway magnates _en tour_, and as we were about to
part at the railway station, the General in curt, off-hand way, asked,
"Why not join my camping party at Sierra Blanca? We're going down there
for a week or two, and I shall be very glad to have you with us. Come,
and stay as long as you can. We shall probably move on to Wagon Wheel
Gap later. Wagon Wheel ought to interest you."

He said this with a quizzical smile, for he had been reading my novel of
Colorado, and recognized in my scene the splendors of the San Juan
country. "Your friend Ehrich is coming," he added, "and I expect
Sterling Morton for a day or two. Why not all come down together?"

"Would you like me to bring my bed and tent?" I asked.

"As you please, although I have plenty of room in my own outfit."

* *