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canons and lonely peaks are on every side, a mining 

 camp was lately established. The usual number 

 of rovers flocked in, camp-life and camp-government 

 began. One of the miners, an exploring, ven- 

 turesome man, pushed farther on into the interior, 

 impelled by the instincts of the fortune-hunter. In 

 the course of a few weeks he returned, and to all 

 inquiries was silent. It was noticed that he seemed 

 more thoughtful than before his exploring trip, and 

 unsuccessful attempts were made to rally him. At 

 last he departed, and in the course of time reached 

 Denver. There it was the good fortune of the writer 

 to meet him, and in the course of conversation he 

 related the following story : 



1 After leaving the mining camp, I pushed on 

 through the mountains, determined to find something 

 more valuable than the ordinary mines around me. 

 It was a hard journey. There were no trails and no 

 signs of human beings. I think it was the fifth day, 

 when, as I was going through a rocky but picturesque 

 canon, I saw what seemed to be a cabin far up the 

 side, where a little clump of evergreens almost hid 

 it from view. It was the first sign I had seen that 



