Game Pkotection, Fish Cuxtuke, Natural History, Preservation of Forests, Rifle Practice, Yachting, Boating, 



the Kennel, and Sports of all Kinds, 



Terms, Four Hollars a Year, j 

 Ten Cents a Copy. j 



NEW YORK, THURSDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1876. 



j Volume 7, Number IS. 



1 17 Chatham St. (City Hal! fegr.) 



For Forest and Stream, 



TO P. C. B. 



MY Boyhood's friend, where 'er tbou art. 

 O'er many a mile of sea and land, 

 Accept this greeting of the heart 

 I may not offer with the hand. 



A Southern sun heats hot and strong 



With you to day on Texan plains; 

 With me the dead leaves drive along 



On blasts of cold November rains. 



Onr schoolboy days are past and gone, 



I would not wish them here, 

 'Twas little gain to lose the charm 



That makes them doubly dear: 



Tbe charm that distance ever throws 



O'er all familiar scenes, 

 That lends each pleasure brighter glows, 



And every sorrow screens.. 



The future vast before us lies, 



Replete with dopes and fears, 

 Pray with me that its triumphs be 



The record of its years. 



So Northern rain and Southern sun 



The same portent may bring, 

 And each may end how 'er begun 



In fullness of the spring. — W. 8. A. 



3 



\ontlyi 



For Forest and Stream. 



iqht in 



r H&8. 



lasqniia 



I HAD left one of the divisions of the United Stales 

 Geological Survey at Montgomery that Tuesday morn- 

 ing, the 11th day of August, to go through South Park and 

 across to the Arkansas at Trout creek, intending myself 

 first to ascend Mt. Lincoln and thence to 2:0 through Mos- 

 quito Pass to Granite, on the Arkansas, and follow the 

 river down until I overtook the party some where about 

 Poncho Pass— all included in the heart of that most moun- 

 tainous of our States, Colorado. 



Mt. Lincoln is the pivot upon which all the lines of eleva- 

 tion in this region would revolve if they should take a 

 "walk 'round." Speaking precisely, it is the beginning of 

 the Blue River Mountains, extending from it to Mt. Powell, 

 which, viewed from the middle Park side at least, is the 

 most "mountainous" of all the mountains I have seen. The 

 whole range is ragged and inaccessible in the extreme and 

 of a deep blue tint whether seen one or one hundred miles 

 away. The peaks are isolated by great gulfs and are all 

 bare and ragged and bleak, save the long thin locks of 

 snow blown back from their ancient foreheads. While we 

 were passing in sight of them, the changing scenery they 

 presented was of singular grandeur; snow storms drifted 

 through, banks of clouds filled their gorges, rain came 

 from them and scudded across the intervening valley to 

 dash itself in our faces, their pinnacles swam one moment 

 in sunlit haze, and stood out the next, sharp and cold 

 against a steel-gray winter sky. 



Although reaching an altitude of about 14,300 feet, and 

 thus towering not a little over its neighbors, Mt. Lincoln 

 is easy -of ascent— so easy that a carriage ruad has been 

 made even to the summit, where, under the shelter of the 

 cap-stone, there is a village of miners who find upon the 

 very brow of this monarch of mountains seams of gold and 

 silver, and take them as one woiald pluck the jewels from 

 the crown of a dead emperor. Standing on the highest 

 pinnacle, after a severe struggle across snow banks and 

 slopes of lightning riven, stony debris, the effort made ten 

 times more hard by the difficulty with which I filled my 

 lungs with this rare air, my eyes took in at a glance, 

 enough territory for a dozen German principallities, and 

 the transcendent purity of the atmosphere plainly revealed 

 outlines a hundred miles away. South Park was but a 

 Play ground at my feet. Pike's Peak seemed so near that 

 by inclining my earl might hear its thunders, while Long's 

 was nodding f amilliarly to it from where it and the black 

 nights about Grand Lake were bravely holding up the op- 

 posite side of the sky. Westward the Mount of the Holy 

 woss lifted high its revered symbol, southward Harvard 

 and Yale, and Princeton, stood in Indian file, and 

 "ejond, the Buffalo Peaks were stooping to drink 

 at their plenteous springs. The Blues were a broken 

 chaotic mass at my feet— Silverheels looking like the farther 

 abutment of some celestial bridge which might span the 

 niles of width and depth between us— and all around me 



were gray old fellows manfully withstanding the meteoric 

 forces which slowly but surely were leveling their haughty 

 heads. The far away horizon ragged with mountain 

 crests; the nearer bights whose terrific countenances had 

 grimly smiled at me as I gazed upward from the sunny 

 valley, but now frowned at me with awful severity; re- 

 senting my invasion of their solitudes; the solid billows 

 which seemed ,to surge up toward me on every hand; the 

 absolute serenity and quiet, amounting almost to suspense, 

 as though the universe held its breath; impressed me more 

 than I care to tell. I thought of Thoreau's lines:— 



"With frontier strength ye stand your ground, 

 With grand content ye circle round, 

 Tumultuous silence for all sound." 



TumiilhiQV s silence—tlwVa it! His theme was only 

 "Monadnock and the Peterboro hills;" but the idea was so 

 great that this congress of mountain monarchs was not too 

 large to fill it. 



I got down from Mt. Lincoln about noon. The descent 

 was by the carriage road, winding between it and Mt. 

 Broes, its neighbor, and the coral rocks by the side of the 

 road were full of narmots and slank-iug conies. (The "lit- 

 tle chief hares," Lagomy princess) so near the color of the 

 rocks and so shy that one might pass up and squeak be- 

 tween your very feet and you would not see him. Once or 

 twice white ptarmigans strutted away from my path, as 

 tame as chickens. From the limit of timber growth, 

 which begins — or ends — in bushes and dwarf firs, the de- 

 scent was easy and enchanting. The uppermost trees that 

 were trees had their limbs all on one side, having been 

 nurtured in such fierce steady winds, that every branch 

 and twig and needle stood straight to leeward, reminding 

 me of the famous picture by John Leech pf the man caught 

 out in a gale. Below this began a dense forest ©f gigantic 

 spruces and the like, about whose dank roots innumerable 

 flowers bloomed, yet not such beauties as studded the 

 bleak heights above— the celestial pastures— enlivening the 

 dull plush-like sheep grass and lichened rocks with their 

 biillant colors and exquisite tracery. Those fiery scarlet 

 and Prussian blue, royal purple and crimson, golden yel- 

 low and silvery flashing gray vied with each other in adorn- 

 ing the frowning summits by their lovely contrasts. Here 

 under the trees the mosses and fungi asserted themselves, 

 and always, where little snow-fed threads of torrents came 

 tumbling down, you might be sure of finding delicate ferns. 

 Half way down I passed through a belt of pines, and then 

 met the aspens which are a constant feature in Rocky moun- 

 tain landscapes. Just here at the foot I discovered that 

 in truth I had descended "from the sublime to the ridicu- 

 lous", for I had to turn out of the way to let pass a poor 

 little jackass loaded with gnarled pieces of firewood for the 

 mines, having such a serio-comic expression of weak des- 

 pair in his long face, that I preserve his picture as my illus- 

 tration of the much- quoted phrase. 



At Alma, a "mushroom city," five miles below, I took 

 dinner at a "first-class hotel," in a log shanty, and enjoyed 

 the meal to my fullest capacity for which I soon had rea- 

 son to congratulate myself. A bright-eyed little woman 

 with a bright-eyed little terrier at her dilapidated heels, and 

 an abundance of, tobacco in her mouth, told me the road 

 after offering congratulations upon the fact that I was 

 "well heeled," referring to my arms— I hold this little wo- 

 man in greatful remembrance, asking no questions. 



Then I tightened anew my horses sineh, pulled my re- 

 volver into a little more ready position, and settling in the 

 saddle for a lo»g ride, swung oft* over the low hills toward 

 the mountains at an easy gallop. It was now between 2 

 and 3 o'clock, and the Range must be crossed before night, 

 so I went at the best speed possible until the trail became 

 too steep for anything more than walking, when I resigned 

 myself to the enjoyment of the wayside. I was approach- 

 ing mountains lying in a general northwest and southeast 

 direction, which were really a portion of the great oceanic 

 divide — "the backbone of the continent"— although just 

 here actually separating only the waters of the South Platte 

 from those of the Arkansas. The Pass I was making for 

 led across into the head of California Gulch, down which 

 there was a mere trail to ths Arkansas. The suu shone 

 unclouded, the trail wandered about among trees that 

 seemed n^er to have been any younger, while occasion- 

 ally a clear space alosg the hillside, or a little marsh-bottom, 

 would open out, permitting a glimpse of the blue sky and 

 the summits beyond. Flowers were blooming everywhere 

 of the most vivid colors and intricate patterns; restless 

 chipmunks ran and snickered at my approach; chickadees, 

 long-crested blue-jays and western whisky-jacks, (our rare 

 Canada jay) which seem a combination of the other two, 



flew about; little fluttering flocks of sparrows sprang up 

 before me, alighted for an instant on the top of a bush and 

 then dived into the protecting foliage. Two or three log 

 cabins were scattered along the road, but only one seemed 

 to be occupied, and its owner was not at home. 



Gradually the trees grew less and less, the crags closer 

 together, and finally the trail emerged abcjve the woods, 

 and I found myself in a rather narrow valley fast becoming 

 a rocky gorge, along which flowed a small creek with bog- 

 gy banks. Here was a tumble-down cabin, of which I 

 knew this bit of history: Several years ago, somebody 

 created a great furor with respect to certain marvellously 

 rich silver lodes said to lie somewhere about here, and two 

 or three of the leading spirits among the men who flocked 

 in, living in this old cabin, took measures to have the 

 various "claims" organized into a "mineral district," from 

 which precedure all would derive certain legal advantages 

 and a greater appearance of importance; so they drew up., 

 the papers, but not at once agreeing upon a name, left it 

 blank. It was early summer and certain small, cheerful 

 insects abounded, one of which, at the last moment alight- 

 ing upon the place left for the name in the document, met 

 his death. The omen was accepted. The insect's body 

 was left to fill the blank, and this region has ever since 

 been known as the "Mosquito District." It was not long, 

 however, before it was discovered that El Dorado was not 

 bounded by this gulch, and the big-booted, red-shirted 

 population chased elsewhere the shining ignis fatuut of 

 sudden fortune. 



From this point the road wound up upon a bench of 

 rocks from which I was able to study the strange geology of 

 the canon; yet all the while I had one eye watching for the 

 diverging trail which the little woman had told me I must 

 take, but none appeared and I followed straight on toward 

 the head of the gulch which ended in a great horse-shoe of 

 almost perpendicular cliffs hundreds of feet high, out of, 

 which escape seemed impossible. The rocks were gneieses 

 and schists, on my right dipping in the west and following 

 in perfect order around the horse-shoe until on my left, of 

 course, they dipped to the east. Then there were whole 

 mountain-tops of trachyte, brown and green like old 

 bronze; beds of limestone full of crannies and ragged 

 ledges; masses of disintegrated rock, poised on the edge 

 of some great precipice where the jar of a thunder-clap 

 would shake them down. 



By this time I had attained the very head of the gulch 

 and had begun to be considerably anxious about that 

 trail, when the road suddenly crossed a hillock, and de- 

 scended plump into a miner's camp, where it stopped 

 against a vertical face of rock. Clearly this was not the 

 Pass, unless I was a bird or an angel, or some other volatile 

 creature. So I made my presence known vociferously, 

 whereupon a. man lifted his head out of a "prospect-hole," 

 like oue rising from the dead* and gruffly inquired, "What 

 the devil's the row ?" He then proceeded curtly to inform 

 me that the trail I wanted led along the base of an oppo- 

 site bluff, and returned with feverish haste to his digging. 

 So I rode over there, picking my way gingerly among bogs 

 and sharp rocks, and searched until at last I found a slen- 

 der pathway, which I followed with infinite pains, where I 

 am devoutly thankful I need not go again, and proved it 

 only a donkey trail to an old mine. I gave up finding any 

 trail there, and turning my jaded horse, pushed back at 

 break- neck pace to reiterate my inquiries. This time there 

 were two men and a dog", and all three giving me to under- 

 stand that I was a short-sighted idiot, repeated the former 

 direction, adding that "it was rather dim." The dog went 

 with me a little ways, as if to show me, but soon returned 

 to his masters, and I retraced my steps to the bluff. Start- 

 ing on the theory that there certainly was a trail there, and 

 not a plain one, I soon found it— as I supposed ; but pre- 

 cious time had been lost, and already the sun was disap- 

 pearing behind the mountains, over whose gilded edge I 

 longed to follow. This theoretical trail of mine was not 

 only "rather dim," but "rather" rough; but with a prayer 

 to the Guardian Spirit of horses, I walked ahead leading 

 my animal by his long lariat. The first hundred yards was 

 a smooth, steep incline of rock; the next hundred .was 

 a tumult of square blocks of gneiss, each as big as a dry. 

 goods box, and each standing on its corner with a few small 

 pieces to till up the interstices . How my poor horse ever 

 got over this chaos without breaking his neck and all his 

 legs is a marvel to me yet! Of course I now realized that 

 there really was no trail here, and there was a reasonable 

 expectation of finding no better way back. Still we worked 

 ahead over nearly as bad going till we had climbed five or 

 six hundred feet, and then found ourselves on the serrat@d 



