(Kodfy QUounfain ^ovists 



3t is stirring to stand at the feet of the Rocky 

 Mountains and look upward and far away over 

 the broken strata that pile and terrace higher and 

 higher, until, at a distance of twenty-five or thirty 

 miles, they stand a shattered and snowy horizon 

 against the blue. The view is an inspiring one 

 from the base, but it gives no idea that this moun- 

 tain array is a magnificent wild hanging-garden. 

 Across the terraced and verdure-plumed garden 

 the eternal snows send their clear and constant 

 streams, to leap in white cascades between 

 crowning crags and pines. Upon the upper 

 slopes of this garden are many mirrored lakes, 

 ferny, flowery glens, purple forests, and crag-piled 

 meadows. 



If any one were to start at the foothills in 

 Colorado, where one of the clear streams comes 

 sweeping out of the mountains to go quietly 

 across the wide, wide plains, and from this start- 

 ing-place climb to the crest of this terraced land 



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