earth, seemed to be disputing the right of way, and the pony was afraid
to pass. While she was scuffling about, I heard a dog bark and a man
swear; then I saw a light, and in another minute found myself at a
large house, where I knew the people, only eleven miles from Denver!
It was nearly midnight, and light, warmth, and a good bed were truly
welcome.

You can form no idea of what the glory on the Plains is just before
sunrise. Like the afterglow, for a great height above the horizon
there is a shaded band of the most intense and glowing orange, while
the mountains which reflect the yet unrisen sun have the purple light
of amethysts. I left early, but soon lost the track and was lost; but
knowing that a sublime gash in the mountains was Bear Canyon, quite
near Boulder, I struck across the prairie for it, and then found the
Boulder track. "The best-laid schemes of men and mice gang aft agley,"
and my exploits came to an untimely end to-day. On arriving here,
instead of going into the mountains, I was obliged to go to bed in
consequence of vertigo, headache, and faintness, produced by the
intense heat of the sun. In all that weary land there was no "shadow
of a great rock" under which to rest. The gravelly, baked soil
reflected the fiery sun, and it was nearly maddening to look up at the
cool blue of the mountains, with their stretches of pines and their
deep indigo shadows. Boulder is a hideous collection of frame houses
on the burning plain, but it aspires to be a "city" in virtue of being
a "distributing point" for the settlements up the Boulder Canyon, and
of the discovery of a coal seam.

LONGMOUNT, November.

I got up very early this morning, and on a hired horse went nine miles
up the Boulder Canyon, which is much extolled, but I was greatly
disappointed with everything except its superb wagon road, and much
disgusted with the laziness of the horse. A ride of fifteen miles
across the prairie brought me here early in the afternoon, but of the
budget of letters which I expected there is not one. Birdie looks in
such capital condition that my host here can hardly believe that she
has traveled over 500 miles. I am feeling "the pinch of poverty"
rather severely. When I have paid my bill here I shall have exactly
twenty-six cents left. Evans was quite unable to pay the hundred
dollars which he owed me, and, to save themselves, the Denver banks,
though they remain open, have suspended payment, and woul