Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1876-09-28

capped. The stars were glistening will
| an unnatural brilliancy and splendor
| Everything touched was crisp, for, from
the start we were above the line OF frost:
| The way we knew not except by the
| poorly marked trail, there having been,
| during this season, but zone or two visit
ors before us to the peak. There was
something SO fearful in the position that
we more than half regretted. for mo-
ment, the absence of guide. Yet there
was something 80 thrilling and grand
amid those awful solitudes, that an at
tempted cry for help would have been
instantly choked down. There was,
too, such a wild, strange fascination in
the wierd unnaturalness on every hand,
that retreat was impossible, Everything,
cliff and crag, Yawning gutfs that seemed
to have no bottom, brooded over by the
silence of death, became a wirl-o'-the-
wisp to- entice the. child on. He who
inareality or in his dreams has not felt
the chill of dark and almost absolute
mountain solitude, where the voice Is
denied an echo, and almost refuses a
sound, has in store an experience which
will disclose some depths of his being as
vet unknown There is an alternate
shrinking into mote, and expanding
into sn angel whichis sometimes Wtench=
ing to d Sensitive nature. Yet there ara
thoughts of the soul which one likes to
breathe into the ear of the infinite amid
the widest solitudes and under The holy.
eyes of the stars-thoughts unthought
elsewhere. -.#e -.
Almost before we knew it the moon
came up from behind . Crag, converting
with its touch, the frost and ice into
sparkling diamonds. Difficulties and
then vanished. We had
lost the trail only once, but had learned
how to find it, namely, to be in no haste
TO make the discovery. Nay, more, by
rather preferring not to tind IL tor
while, whistlfng little, by way OF per-
sonal entertainment. One, in order to
fiud a lost trail, must also be in no fur
ry though on the very edge of a thous.
and feet chasm, Twice the path was
blocked with snow, but after delay OF
scarcely five minutes we discovered
way round, and were rapidly approach.
ing the summit. The high altitude had
its effect upon beast and rider. The poor
brute trembled in every limb, and its
heart throbs were felt under the saddle.
Though without orders from the Society
for the Prevention of Cruelty to Dumb
Animals, we dismounted, but had pro.
ceeded less than twenty feet before pal
pitstion set in an unnatural buzZ1ng IN
the ears followed we gasped for breath
and leaned against an ice cold rock for
support Previous experience prevent
ed alarm sixty seconds rest, the system
was charged with the ezhiarating at
and the recovery was COM
plete. though a relapse followed but
Slight exertion. The last of an eighth
of mile was passed by resting every
ten or twelve feet. In climbing noun
tains, when very faint, one may be
obliged to lie or sit down upon the
rocks but this should be avoided when 8,
ever possible standing and leaning
against the horse is much better. there
being less danger of receiving a chill and
Of taking cold.
SUNRISE ON THE MOUNTAINS.
The sacred light of The morning soon
began to show itself. We paused before
the summit to watch the won
derful changes every moment taking
place. The blue deepened in the north,
south and west, in proportion to the
lighting ND of. the. east. Under the
growing light, objects far and near com
meBced to take on definite outline. The
shafts of dawn light, owing to the ex-
IRENE rarefcation of the atmosphere,
were so feeble as to be scarcely discern
ible. The smaller stars faded out with
surprising rapidly; the larger ones,
twipkling like things of life with eyes
of crystal an hour earlier, were shortly
almost lustreless.
The mountains began to kindle, as
under some approaching and glorious
majesty. The wonderful machinery
moved on with all the reserve power of
Deity. How silent there was nothing
like daybreak. The glowing fires kin
died about a given point changes more
and more rapid and marvellous followed;
new objects speedily sprung into exis-
tepce; all nature seems to stand, for the
moment, with uplifted eyes and await
ing the sublime elimination. The eye
was fixed almost blurred. Then with
an effulgenco well nigh binding, while
we seemed to be looking elsewhere, but
were not, a point in the far distance
kindled into white heat in an instant In
quick, almost thrilling succession, peak
after peak, and crag after crag caught
and banded on the glowing torch dark
ness fed from the beautiful parks and
open valleys, as if dismayed and con
fused, into the UNEMPLOYED Businesses
and gorges of the mountains; the whole
heavens throbbed with living light the
earth was in transports and was
sunrise on the mountains.
Is GRAY's PEAK.
Having now gained the summit and
witnessed the sunrise, we were prepared
to take more definite observations and
bearings. This peak has the honor of
being called the Dome of the North
American continent" and we think the
term is well bestowed. 1t is included in
the divide" its western slopes sending
their waters into the Pacific, its eastern
into the Atlantic Ocean. The Colorado
peaks are nearly in the centre of the
Rocky Mountain range of North Amer
lea, and Gray's Peak is central among
the Colorado group. It is surrounded
by goodly company fourteen noun
tains, upwards of fourteen thousand
feet in hight and fifteen over thirteen
thousand feet, can be easily counted by
the tourist who gains its summit. It's
own altitude is fourteen thousand four
hundred and fifty feet. The extent of
mountain ranges whichit commands we
are sure will make every one who visits /
Colorado desperate to scale IFS Sides and
reach its summit. > 49,: s....ss = Il
ExTREsYE RANGES. AND PARKS.
Looking southwark the eye will first !
take ia the snowy mountain range sur |
rounding Middle Park, over which Gray's
Peak stands as the southeast seHtifi6l. !
In these same lahyrinths aud f6rtifcs,
tions of gfanite also stand Longs Peak, |
IA 252 feet in hight and fifty miles dis |
tant from GFays; also Jane's Peak, !
twenty miles distant and - 0Q0, feet il |
hight; likewise Mount lincoln, Ia, 1873 |
feet in attitude and fifty miles dis
tant, and little to the west one of |
the most remarkable mountains in |
the world - the Mount of The
Holy Cross II is In the Sawatch /
range !; is 14t76 feet in height, and dis !
tanI from the point we now occupy but |
sixty miles. 1t is welito bear in mind, 4
while thinking of these distances, that
they seem IN thIs rarifled and transpa-
rent atmosphere less than half as far as |
they would upon the seaboard In the !
clearest weather. This Mountain of the |