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THE WAY UP PIKE'S PEAK. 57

They proved also pleasant companions, and after they
joined me the ride was without loneliness or anxiety,
and so intensely enjoyable. Bear Creek Canon was
not altogether new to me, but I saw that day for the
first time the grander and more rugged portion of it.
The creek is. pure, full and sparkling, rushing along
with arrowy swiftness, and leaping down the rocks as
in a mad frolic, making innumerable falls, some ot them
of considerable height and wonderful beauty. The
foliage for the greater part of the way is very luxuriant,
and is now of all shades, from the deep green of the
pine to the pale gold of the cottonwood. On the high-
est mountain sides the autumn tints have faded and
grown sombre under frequent chastenings of the frost
king. Two weeks ago it was as though the very glory
of God had descended upon them, and was wrapping
them round about. But here in this sheltered spot, the
stern genii have ‘done their spiriting gently.” We
found the long winding pass still illuminated by a per-
fect carnival of color. The last mile or two of the trail
seemed longer than leagues. It is at that height the
strangest trail ever constructed. It is a sort of rude
Russ pavement of unknown depth.

“Pike’s Peak on the summit, and for a long distance
down, is so thickly covered by huge blocks of porphyry
that scarcely a foot of ground shows between. ‘These
rocks could not be cleared out of the way, there was no
where to put them, so the trail was made by merely
filling up breaks and crevices with smaller stones, so it
was a sort of causeway we traveled over that evening.

 

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