. I repeated the question twice
before I got an answer, and then, though easily to be accounted for, it
was wide of the mark. In most doleful tones she said, "Oh, go to the
minister; I might tell you, may be, but it's too great a
responsibility; go to the ministers, they can tell you!" And she
returned to her tears for some one whose spirit she was doubtless
thinking of as in the Golden City of our hopes. That sixteen miles
seemed like one mile, after sunset, in the rapturous freshness of the
Colorado air, and Birdie, after her two days' rest and with a lightened
load, galloped across the prairie as if she enjoyed it. I did not
reach this gorge till late, and it was an hour after dark before I
groped my way into this dark, unlighted mining town, where, however, we
were most fortunate both as to stable and accommodation for myself.

BOULDER, November 16.

I fear you will grow tired of the details of these journal letters. To
a person sitting quietly at home, Rocky Mountain traveling, like Rocky
Mountain scenery, must seem very monotonous; but not so to me, to whom
the pure, dry mountain air is the elixir of life. At Golden City I
parted for a time from my faithful pony, as Clear Creek Canyon, which
leads from it to Idaho, is entirely monopolized by a narrow-gauge
railroad, and is inaccessible for horses or mules. To be without a
horse in these mountains is to be reduced to complete helplessness. My
great wish was to see Green Lake, situated near the timber line above
Georgetown (said to be the highest town in the United States), at a
height of 9,000 feet. A single day took me from the heat of summer
into the intense cold of winter.

Golden City by daylight showed its meanness and belied its name. It is
ungraded, with here and there a piece of wooden sidewalk, supported on
posts, up to which you ascend by planks. Brick, pine, and log houses
are huddled together, every other house is a saloon, and hardly a woman
is to be seen. My landlady apologized for the very exquisite little
bedroom which she gave me by saying "it was not quite as she would like
it, but she had never had a lady in her house before." The young
"lady" who waited at breakfast said, "I've been thinking about you, and
I'm certain sure you're an authoress." The day, as usual, was
glorious. Think of November half through and scarcely even a cloud in
the sky, except the vermilion cloudlets which accompany the sun at his
rising and setting!