above range crowned with snow came into sight. I
was sure that three glistening peaks seventy miles north were the
peerless shapeliness of Long's Peak, the king of the Rocky Mountains,
and the "mountain fever" returned so severely that I grudged every hour
spent on the dry, hot plains. The Range looked lovelier and sublimer
than when I first saw it from Greeley, all spiritualized in the
wonderful atmosphere. I went direct to Evans's house, where I found a
hearty welcome, as they had been anxious about my safety, and Evans
almost at once arrived from Estes Park with three elk, one grizzly, and
one bighorn in his wagon. Regarding a place and life one likes (in
spite of all lessons) one is sure to think, "To-morrow shall be as this
day, and much more abundant"; and all through my tour I had thought of
returning to Estes Park and finding everything just as it was. Evans
brought the unwelcome news that the goodly fellowship was broken up.
The Dewys and Mr. Waller were in Denver, and the house was dismantled,
Mr. and Mrs. Edwards alone remaining, who were, however, expecting me
back. Saturday, though like a blazing summer day, was wonderful in its
beauty, and after sunset the afterglow was richer and redder than I
have ever seen it, but the heavy crimson betokened severe heat, which
came on yesterday, and was hardly bearable.

I attended service twice at the Episcopal church, where the service was
beautifully read and sung; but in a city in which men preponderate the
congregation was mainly composed of women, who fluttered their fans in
a truly distracting way. Except for the church-going there were few
perceptible signs of Sunday in Denver, which was full of rowdies from
the mountain mining camps. You can hardly imagine the delight of
joining in those grand old prayers after so long a deprivation. The
"Te Deum" sounded heavenly in its magnificence; but the heat was so
tremendous that it was hard to "warstle" through the day. They say
that they have similar outbreaks of solar fury all through the winter.

GOLDEN CITY, November 13.

Pleasant as Denver was, with the Dewys and so many kind friends there,
it was too much of the "wearying world" either for my health or taste,
and I left for my sixteen miles' ride to this place at four on Monday
afternoon with the sun still hot. Passing by a bare, desolate-looking
cemetery, I asked a sad-looking woman who was leaning on the gate if
she could direct me to Golden City