ain climbing. One may gaze at the
mountains from great open meadows and camping sites from 8000 to 9000
feet above sea level. We lamented the fact that we had only a day in
which to see Estes Park. We could have spent a week there in driving and
walking about.

Colorado is rich in mountain scenery and in beautiful camping places for
the lover of hills and streams, the pedestrian and the fisherman.

We came down from the high plateau of the Park by the canyon of the
Little Thompson; a still more precipitous road than that of the Big
Thompson Canyon. Reaching Lyons, we turned toward Boulder, driving along
with alfalfa meadows to the left and the foot hills of the Rockies to
the right. Our undulating road was an excellent one.

We enjoyed the wide sky, the rich grassy plains stretching away to our
left, with ranch houses marked here and there by clumps of cottonwood
trees. We knew that this was irrigated country, reclaimed from what was
once a wide desert. After a time we passed a wagon, canvas covered,
drawn by two plodding horses. I thought the driver must be foreign, as
he turned out to the left when we came up behind him, but he quickly
recovered himself and turned right. We soon left him far behind us.

But suddenly there was a grinding sound. The machine halted and refused
to move. We were stalled on the road and no amount of effort availed to
move us. Something had gone seriously wrong. There was nothing for it
but to push the machine to the side of the road, and wait patiently for
the travelers in the covered wagon. We were six miles from Boulder, and
evidently had a serious break in the machine. Later it transpired that
our gears were broken.

After a time the wagon came toiling along and its occupants most
hospitably invited me to drive into Boulder with them. Two men, one
elderly, the other young, were on the driver's seat. In the wagon were
their two wives and a troop of little children, the family of the
younger pair, and the grandchildren of the older pair. A happy collie
dog climbed wildly about over the children. "He's the biggest kid in the
wagon," said his master.

The party had been camping in a mountain canyon for their holiday and
were now on their way home. The men and women were English, the older
couple having been thirty-three years in this country. "I've dug coal
for forty-five years," said the older man.

"Tell them you rode with one of the striking miners, one of the sixteen
who was put