he immediate right a huge snow bank formed a
horseshoe half a mile in its arc. Leaving their ponies, at a suggestion
from Jack the party walked over to the edge of the slide rock and gazed
down into a small lake, of perhaps a thousand acres, nestled in a rocky
embrace, twenty-five hundred feet below them, into the nearer edge of
which stones were sent splashing by those who attempted a throw. Groups
of pine trees dotted the farther shore of the lake and upon its bosom
floated half a dozen immense icebergs, which remain summer after summer,
during the months of July and August, never entirely disappearing.

Again and again Jack attempted the difficult feat of obtaining a focus
to register that grandest of picturesque spots on the plates especially
prepared, but none proved successful when developed.

Slowly, regretfully, the march was again taken up and camp was made on
the low pass where pools of water flow from two outlets, one north into
North Park, the other south into Middle Park and the Grand River. This
camp was beneath the famous Specimen mountain and its fantastic
spire-like rock formations, on the apex of which the "Big Horn" dozed in
perfect security, the spires succeeding each other and making the great
aerial stairway accessible only to the sure-footed mountain sheep.

No one enjoyed the life of the camp half as much as did Chiquita. She
was in her element. The respite from the continual grind of college had
been such a welcome one that she preferred to listen to the others
rather than join in the general conversation. The topics discussed found
no sympathetic chord in her mind, and, notwithstanding the years she had
submitted to the refining influences of education, she was a savage at
heart. She realized it. Her restive spirit broke the bonds of captivity
as soon as the first campfire was lighted. Like a golden winged
chrysalis she burst her civilization fetters and became again the
forest-born Indian maiden, Chiquita. No longer did she feel the
restraint which society demanded. The buoyant freedom of the camp
injected new life into her veins, new aspirations into her mind. But she
was not aware that the very ascendency of civilization immeshed her in
its grasp. Her manners, always charming, had become more so under the
polish of education and association with those who trained the soul as
well as the hand, the eye, the body.

"The smoke of the tepee fire has driven away the oppressive chaotic
whirl of