nd, lingers latest on its crest. The soft winds which
hardly rustle the pine needles down here are raging rudely up there
round its motionless summit. The mark of fire is upon it; and though
it has passed into a grim repose, it tells of fire and upheaval as
truly, though not as eloquently, as the living volcanoes of Hawaii.
Here under its shadow one learns how naturally nature worship, and the
propitiation of the forces of nature, arose in minds which had no
better light.

Long's Peak, "the American Matterhorn," as some call it, was ascended
five years ago for the first time. I thought I should like to attempt
it, but up to Monday, when Evans left for Denver, cold water was thrown
upon the project. It was too late in the season, the winds were likely
to be strong, etc.; but just before leaving, Evans said that the
weather was looking more settled, and if I did not get farther than the
timber line it would be worth going. Soon after he left, "Mountain
Jim" came in, and said he would go up as guide, and the two youths who
rode here with me from Longmount and I caught at the proposal. Mrs.
Edwards at once baked bread for three days, steaks were cut from the
steer which hangs up conveniently, and tea, sugar, and butter were
benevolently added. Our picnic was not to be a luxurious or
"well-found" one, for, in order to avoid the expense of a pack mule, we
limited our luggage to what our saddle horses could carry. Behind my
saddle I carried three pair of camping blankets and a quilt, which
reached to my shoulders. My own boots were so much worn that it was
painful to walk, even about the park, in them, so Evans had lent me a
pair of his hunting boots, which hung to the horn of my saddle. The
horses of the two young men were equally loaded, for we had to prepare
for many degrees of frost. "Jim" was a shocking figure; he had on an
old pair of high boots, with a baggy pair of old trousers made of deer
hide, held on by an old scarf tucked into them; a leather shirt, with
three or four ragged unbuttoned waistcoats over it; an old smashed
wideawake, from under which his tawny, neglected ringlets hung; and
with his one eye, his one long spur, his knife in his belt, his
revolver in his waistcoat pocket, his saddle covered with an old beaver
skin, from which the paws hung down; his camping blankets behind him,
his rifle laid across the saddle in front of him, and his axe, canteen,
and other gear hanging to the horn, he was a