Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-07-13


going at all now. / did what could to help
| them out Of their difficulty by drinking up
| large portion Of the volume OF each as I went
thirstiiy along. Hardly for an instant all the
| way up have been out of sight of the stream
which dashes foamily forward below me. Ere
quently, like q reckless sprite Of the noun
tains, It rushes out to the edge of q rock or
| rocky ledge too far for retreat. Then. with
| curvIng leap over the edge. it goes and falls
with a roar, beaten to frothy Wilderness on the
! lower rocks. Through the graceful blue-green
| fronds of the spruces / catch glimpses of the
| torrent always hurrying on. The monotonous
| sound Of its voice hoarsely complaining of the
rocks which impede its career is ever in my
ears.
A couple Of miles up the trail. where the
| canon widens out forming a vast bowl amid the
hills, / come upon a small house built most
picturesquely among the rocks above the tor
| rent. This is the home of an old English pho
tographer and his family. just beyond the
trail crosses rough bridge in front Of what is
called Sheltered falls. Here the mountain
stream has found its way beneath one huge
rock. which partly rests upon and partly over
! hangs another rock of smaller size. Emerging
! from beneath the larger rock the stream falls
| down over the sheltered face of the smaller
| one. Hence the name Of the little falls. On
| further the canon widens out again and there
| are few small rustic cottages OF summer resi-
| dents among the aspens and wild rose bushes.
| The hllisides here are covered with profusion
| of wild flowers, and their delightful odor fills
the bright warm air. Pretty soon the halfway
| house Is reached. 1t is a small hosiery of mis-
leading name, for it is not much more than
one-quarter the way to the summit.
MOUNTAIN STORM
| At the half way house l sit down to rest for
! few minutes and make the acquaintance of
sweet little mountain maid, who asks me no
| end of questions. She and her brother,
couple OF years older, urge me to stay to
| dinner, but decline. Meanwhile the sky had
| been growing dark, and pretty soon great
| drops of rain begin to fall driving me to
| shelter. Faster and faster the rain comes down,
and far away up toward the peak We hear the
| turmoil of thunder. The cliff. about us begin
| to smoke, as if giant had been knocking the
dust out OF them with club. The wind
| scurries down the gorges, kissing Ikea mighty
| flock OF flying serpents. The rain swirls and
sweeps about in every direction. i see that the
| storm is to be long one. and gratified the
| heart OF my little mountain maiden by inform
| ing her that would stay to dinner
| It was O'Clock before the rain ceased.
| Shortly after photographer who had started
for the mountain top in the morning returned
| without having reached the summit. He was
covered with snow and his horse had given
out. He said it was the worst storm he had
| seen in long time A little later a bride and
| groom with their guide returned from an I'M
! successful effort to reach the summit. The
storm had numbed them and the air was so
laden with snow and sleet that they had turned
about after passing the timber line. They were
very miserable, and when told them of my
intention of ascending to the summit on foot
| they looked at me pityingly. They evidently
| thought me a crank.
| 1t was exactly 1886 o'clock when, the rain
having ceased and the clouds breaking away a
little from about the park, l resumed my jour
! ney. The first mile was through a pretty
mountain valley clear of timber. The ascent
was very slight. Then the path led through
| low timber for mile and a half more, grad
ually growing sleeper. Here there had
| been a slight fall of sleet. and the trail
was almost ankle-deep with snow and slush.
My long rest at the halfway house had made
me as fresh as was in the morning, however,
and my progress was rapid. ali the mountain
| side was covered three inches deep with fresh
| fallen snow. The trail also full of it. but
horses and men had worn the pathway so deep
/ there was no mistaklng it. About this time en-
| incident occurred which made me feel less
comfortable than before. In the fresh snow of
| the trail 1 found
| THE PRINT OF BEARS CLAW.
No other animal could have made it, The
! bear must have been of good size and he could
have crossed the trail but short time before
| came along. felt that l was very poorly
| equipped for an encounter with a wild animal
The only thing resembling a weapon l had
| about me was pocket-knife with a two-inch
blade. Then, | was beginning to feel some
! fatigue. Altogether l was sorry had seen the
| imprint Of that claw in the snow. Soon | met
a party of five who had got to the summit be-
| fore the storm came up and remained there
! until it was over. They extended their SYM
| patty over the tramp l had before me, bat
babe me keep my courage up. II my wind
and legs held out they thought would easily
reach the shelter house in time for breakfast.
| | laughed at them and hurried along. l wanted
! to get above the timber line as quickly as DOS
sible. would feel more easy and more as if I
| had done something when came out on the open
mountain side and couldsee ahead of me and
behind me-and all around me in fact. 1t was
a long tramp yet, however, but kept at it dog
| gedly, resting infrequently. At last the timber
grew scarcer. The mountain side above and
| below was strewn with the skeletons of trees
! which had fallen through the sin by which
the angels fell ambition. They had in their
pride grown SO large that the rocky soil could
| not support their roots. So when the winds
came they had toppled over by the dozen and
| lay in dismal confusion everywhere. As the
| pathway emerged above the timber the sun
| came out. This greatly terminated me. Not
| far ahead could see that the trail wound about
| the shoulder OF the mountain. Perhaps, /
| thought will be able to see the building at
| the summit when turn that corner. So on
swung through the deep slush and among the
| jagged rocks of the trail. The side of the
mountain about which was now slowly climb
| ing faced to the south. The sun beat down
with welcome warmth, so that with my coat off
l did not perspire nor feel in the least chilly
| After leaving the trees each side Of the trail
was strewn with
| PROPULSION OF BEAUTIFUL WILD FLOWERS.
There were punches Of forget-me-nots as large
as the two hands poking their small blue faces,
| bright and undaunted, through the snow. A
| species OF buttercup was there in plenty; also,
small yellow flower in appearance like the he
liotrope. Then larger blue flower. in shape
and manner of growing like the lily-of-the-
valley, swayed proudly above the snow. Other
| exquisite little blossoms-blue, white, pink and
| deep maroon-peeped shyly through their pal
| lid covering and sent grateful glances to the
| sun for Fastening to deliver them from their
| chilly bondage. Though anxious to be on nv
| way and fearful of not reaching the summit
| before sunset, could not resist the temptation
| to help the work of the sun by rescuing some
| Of the pretty blossoms from their frigid op-
pressor and transferring them to the warmth
of my pocket. Meanwhile had worked around
to the southwest side of the mountain. No
where was there a sign Of the summit house.
Far westerly, apparently for miles, the snow
| covered rocks extended. Ridge rose over ridge
a weary way. / could discern the course the
| trail took but for q short distance ahead Then
| 1t was lost among the rocks and in the snow.
| There could be but q couple of miles of
| it, any way, / thought, SO ON I pushed,
in the face Of q cool wind which now arose
from the quarter where the sun hung, above
cloud banks and the great snowy Sangre de
Cristo range, an hour and half or perhaps
two hours high. Occasionally the recollection
OF that bear track in the snow made me un-
comfortable. One satisfaction had now, out
on this breezy snow-covsred mountain side,