MARSHALL PASS—EASTERN SLOPE.
Leadville at night is a scene of wild hilarity, and yet of remarkable order. The omnipresent six-shooters that used to outnumber the men of a mining camp ten years ago are rarely seen here in public. If men carry pistols, it is in their pockets; and the shoot-the lights out ruffianism of the old frontier days rarely shows even a symptom of revival. You find a city of twenty thousand people or so within the limits and up the sides of the hills that overlook the town, where hundreds of mine-houses, spouting ceaseless jets of steam from ever-laboring engines, and hundreds of dumps of earth and ore brought to sudden daylight from their beds in the heart of the hill, tell the story of Leadville’s prosperity. The rough old camp has crystallized into the city she resolved to become.
As for these mines—what shall be said. Fryer Hill, which was the source of Leadville’s “boom,” has gone into obscurity under the newer glory of its rivals, Carbonate and Breece hills. It is said that Fryer Hill proved a great collection of “pockets,” very rich so long as they lasted, but liable at any time to be exhausted. The other hills, however, seem not to have suffered the geological turmoil through which Fryer passed, and, therefore, when a deposit of ore is struck, one may be reasonably sure of its holding out as long as any one man or generation of men would be likely to feel an earthly interest in its development. Men now know pretty well, or think they do, what ones of the hundreds of “discovery shafts” sunk are really worth continuing, and there is a constant tendency to the consolidation of adjacent properties into the hands of large companies controlling vast capital, and pushing operations with quiet dignity. The bullion-product of Leadville increases year by year, and gives an annual output varying from $17,000,000 to $19,000,000.
The yard of the Denver and Rio Grande railway, where our cars lay for a whole week, is a scene of never ceasing activity. This is the terminus not only of the main line from the east and south, but also of two branches, one down the Blue river and the other over to the Eagle River valley. Both have to cross the continental range, and abound in scenery so picturesque that, in the phrase of the penny-a-liner, “to be appreciated must be seen.” That being the case, we propose to “see” it.
XXII
ACROSS THE TENNESSEE AND FREMONT’S PASSES.
‘Unto the towne of Walfingham
‘The way is hard for to be gon;
‘And verry crooked are those pathes