1889 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



233 



pyramid was the work of tourists, each one 

 contributing a stone to it. Although I was 

 panting for breath, 1 selected one also, and 

 placed it near the top. A good many had 

 left business cards, and some had scratched 

 their names and addresses on the stones. I 

 looked off toward the village, and there in 



Elain sight was my hotel, Mountain View ; 

 ut, oh how small and insignificant it look- 

 ed ! The landlord had, before I started, 

 pointed out to me the Cave of the Winds ; 

 but as I looked from the hotel, all I could 

 see was a few rough rocks that seemed not 

 larger than a common-sized house. But 



ENTRANCE TO THE CAVK OF THE WIND 



when I came to stand by them, they loomed 

 up nearly a quarter of a mile high. Now, 

 this is one reason why we can not compre- 

 hend the height of a mountain. There are 

 no familiar objects with which to compare 

 things, and our eyes deceive us. More of 

 this anon. 



After being satisfied with my view I start- 

 ed on the downward path, to take in the 

 Manitou Grand Cavern. Going down hill is 

 comparatively easy work. (L)id you ever 

 know it, boys ?) It was not very long be- 

 fore I stood before the locked door of the 



otlier cavern. Before I could get in, howev- 

 er, I had to go still further down the moun- 

 tain to where the guide lived. He informed 

 me they did not open till eight o'clock, and, 

 sure enough, it was only just eight. The 

 points the landlord said 1 could make by 

 noon, I had already made, except going 

 through the cave. Come to compare notes, 

 the guide had been an Ohio boy, and, still 

 further, he was brought up in the neighbor- 

 ing town of Akron. We were old friends in 

 short meter. While he was lighting his 

 lamps, and getting ready to go into the 

 cave, I sat down on the steps, thinking I 

 had better economize my 

 strength, although I didn't feel 

 tired a bit. My eye glanced 

 across between a couple of 

 mountains, and there was Pike's 

 Peak again, with the snow roll- 

 ing and blowing. 



" Mr. Snyder, they tell me it 

 is thirteen miles to the top of that 

 mountain over there. Why, it 

 seems as if I could skip to the 

 top of it in a little more than 

 half an hour." 



" Well, I think I can teach you 

 a lesson if you care to look 

 through our big telescope. It 

 cost us about $250, and therefore 

 we are obliged to charge ten 

 cents for the privilege of look- 

 ing." 



•' Cheap enough, my friend. 

 I want to see every thing you 

 have that is worth seeing, and 

 here is a five-dollar bill to cover 

 expenses. While you are mak- 

 ing your change I will look at 

 Pike's Peak." 



The instrument was very soon 

 adjusted by his practiced hands ; 

 but before I put my eye to the 

 glass he spoke : 



■ 'Mr. Boot, I want you to tell 

 me first if you can see any thing 

 like a house on top of Pike's 

 Peak, with the naked eye." 



" Why, I think I could see a 

 house if there were one, but 

 there is surely nothing of the 

 sort. It is just a scene of snow 

 and blank desolation." 



As I replied, however, I put 

 my eye to the glass, and, lo and 

 behold ! There was quite a good- 

 sized stone house on the peak 

 — some outbuildings around it, 

 a flag floating from the highest 

 part of the house, and smoke 

 coming out of the chimney, while the blow- 

 ing snow made one fairly shiver as he look- 

 ed through the glass. Of course. I uttered 

 an exclamation of surprise, and then took 

 another look with my naked eye. After the 

 telescope had shown me what there was to 

 be seen, I readily fixed my eye on a mere 

 speck that I decided must be the house. 

 And all at once the old mountain shoved 

 back fully ten miles. You see, when my 

 eye had learned to pick on something with 

 known dimensions, things then assumed their 

 proper size and distance, 



