THE MUSEUM. 



187 



bers. Mount Evans is one of Colo- 

 rado's most noted mountains, a little 

 above 14,000 feet high, within plain 

 view of Denver and the central peak 

 is a stretch of mountain range 1 50 

 ■miles in length to be seen from this 

 city. Mrs. Coburn finds her ascent a 

 pleasant reminiscence. 



"It was one of the most romantic 

 e.xperiences of my life, ' said she. 

 "We walked fort}- miles during the 

 trip to the summit and back. The 

 guide said after it was all over that 

 had he told us how far it would be we 

 would never have had the courage to 

 try it. Then we spent one night at 

 timber line with neither blanket or 

 wrap. The reason was that the horse 

 had bsen left below with our blankets 

 and tent. The guide went back after 

 them, but a storm was brewing and 

 this made it dark so early that he did 

 not dare bring the horse up and the 

 things were foo heavy for him to carry 

 and walk. He did not get up till 

 seven o'clock the next morning. In 

 the meantime we made a big fire, 

 roasted potatoes, sang songs, told 

 stories and tried to keep awake. But 

 finally I could keep awake no longer 

 in spite of the cold. I law down by 

 the fire and went to sleep. 



"We got in training for the big 

 climb by constant practice on the hills 

 about where we were stopping. We 

 climbed the three highest mountains 

 near and got so we could go fifteen 

 miles a day walking and climbing reg- 

 ularly before we attempted Mount 

 Evans. And I reached the summit 

 the first of the party I am certainly 

 proud of that. I noticed that the 

 hardest thing in mountain climbing is 

 the first half mile. There is a pro\erb 

 that 'the last step in a mile is the 

 longest.' But it isn't so in climbing. 

 If you can keep on till you get your 

 second wind, you will proceed with an 

 endurance that will surprise you. We 

 left the Rosalie ranch, four m.iles from 

 the base of the mountain, at 6 a. m. 

 We reached timber line at 5 p. m. 

 That was twelve miles in a straight 



line, but a good deal longer the way 

 we walked it. We spent the night at 

 timber line and started at 8 the next 

 morning making the peak at noon. 

 It was enveloped in clouds, and we 

 encountered a fierce storm of wind, 

 rain and hail, with thunder and light- 

 ning all around us. We sheltered 

 ourselves as best we could under the 

 rocks and b' fore we left the peak were 

 rewarded by the clouds parting for 

 about fifteen minutes and giving us a 

 sight of the view we had come to see. 

 The climb was exceedingly rough and 

 rocky, and the trail was indistinguish- 

 able except by the guide, who knew 

 where it v\:;s. " — Tlic Mineral Collect- 

 or. 



The Snake and the Rabbit. 



KIT ATKINSON. 



In riding over the plains of South 

 Texas as I am constantly doing, one 

 meets with many queer antics among 

 nature's animals. A few days since 

 while out with friend G. gathering cat- 

 tle, my friend says, "Listen, I hear a 

 noise as if a young rabbit was in 

 trouble." We stopped and presently 

 saw the old rabbit (a Cottontail) mak- 

 ing a line for the place where we heard 

 the noise. We rode up near enough 

 to observe what was going on and dis- 

 covered the old rabbit turning end 

 over end and repeating it as quick as 

 flash. She would bite at what we 

 thought was the snake and throw them 

 into the air and then bound for him. 

 We dispatched the snake and found it 

 had coiled itself around the young rab- 

 bit and scjueezed it so hard its little 

 eyes were bulging out of its head. 

 Apparently the old rabbit had grabbed 

 the young one each time and bit its 

 car nearly off, cut nearly all the flesh 

 off its hind legs and broken one bone 

 at the heel in her efforts to get away 

 from the snake. Mad she applied her 

 sharp teeth to the reptile, she would 

 probably have killed it. It was all 

 done quicker than it takes me to write 



