ifts its snowy head to heaven in silent commemoration of the early
traveler whose name it bears. Simpson's Rest, a lofty obelisk,
commemorates the mountaineer whose life was for the most part passed
upon its rugged slopes, and whose last request was that he should be
buried on its summit. Another cloud-capped mountain-height bears the
name of Fisher's Peak, and thereby hangs a tale.

{illust. caption = {signature of} W. F. Cody}

Captain Fisher commanded a battery in the army engaged in the conquest
of New Mexico. His command encamped near the base of the mountain which
now bears his name. Deceived by the illusive effect of the atmosphere,
he started out for a morning stroll to the supposed near-by elevation,
announcing that he would return in time for breakfast. The day passed
with no sign of Captain Fisher, and night lengthened into a new day.
When the second day passed without his return, his command was forced to
believe that he had fallen a prey to lurking Indians, and the soldiers
were sadly taking their seats for their evening meal when the haggard
and wearied captain put in an appearance. His morning stroll had
occupied two days and a night; but he set out to visit the mountain, and
he did it.

The transcontinental line which supplanted the Old Salt Lake trail,
and is now known as the Union Pacific Railroad, antedated the Atchison,
Topeka and Santa Fe by eleven years. The story of the difficulties
encountered, and the obstacles overcome in the building of this road,
furnishes greater marvels than any narrated in the Arabian Nights'
Tales.

This railroad superseded the Pony Express line, the reeking, panting
horses of which used their utmost endeavor and carried their tireless
riders fifteen miles an hour, covering their circuit in eight days'
time at their swiftest rate of speed. The iron horse gives a sniff of
disdain, and easily traverses the same distance, from the Missouri line
to the Pacific Coast, in three days.

Travelers who step aboard the swiftly moving, luxurious cars of to-day
give little thought to their predecessors; for the dangers the early
voyagers encountered they have no sympathy. The traveler in the
stagecoach was beset by perils without from the Indians and the outlaws;
he faced the equally unpleasant companionship of fatigue and discomfort
within. The jolting, swinging coach bounced and jounced the unhappy
passengers as the reckless driver lashed the flying horses. Away they
galloped