having spent almost a week rambling over the plains, mesas,
foothills, and lower ranges, then had been occupied for five or six days
more in exploring the valleys and mountain sides in the vicinity of
Georgetown, and thus, by gradually approaching them, we had become
inured to "roughing it" in the higher altitudes when we reached them,
and suffered no ill effects from the rarefied atmosphere.

We passed the famous "Georgetown Loop," crept at a snail's pace--for
that is the natural gait of the burro--through the town of Silver Plume,
and pursued our leisurely journey toward the beckoning, snow-clad
heights beyond. No, we did not hurry, for two reasons: First, our
little four-footers would not or could not quicken their pace, urge them
as we would; second, we desired to name all the birds along the route,
and that "without a gun," as Emerson mercifully enjoins.

Have you ever ridden a burro? Have you ever been astride of an old one,
a hirsute, unkempt, snail-paced, obstinate one, which thinks he knows
better what gait he ought to assume than you do? If you have not, I
venture to suggest modestly that your education and moral discipline are
not quite complete. The pair which we had hired were slow and headstrong
enough to develop the patience of Job in a most satisfactory way, and to
test it, too. They were as homely as the proverbial "mud fence" is
supposed to be. Never having seen a fence of that kind, I speak with
some degree of caution, not wanting to cast any disparagement upon
something of which I have so little knowledge. If our long-eared
companions had ever seen a curry-comb, it must have been in the days of
Noah. You see, we were "tenderfoots," as far as having had any
experience with burros was concerned, or we might have selected a more
sprightly pair for our fellow-pilgrims. A fine picture, fit for the
camera or the artist's brush, we presented as we crept with the speed of
a tortoise along the steep mountain roads and trails. Our "jacks," as
Messrs. Longears are called colloquially, were not lazy--oh, no! they
were simply averse to leaving home! Their domestic ties were so strong
they bound them with cords of steel and hooks of iron to stall and
stable-yard! The thought of forsaking friends and kindred even for only
a few days wrung their loving hearts with anguish! No wonder we had a
delicate and pathetic task on hand when we attempted to start our
caravan up the mountain road. From side to side the gentle a