Nothing but a bird or a mountain sheep would be likely to attempt the almost vertical wall rising from the southern side of Arastra gulch to culminate in the spires of Hazelton mountain. Coming out into the valley, however, a road is to be found zigzagging its way up the slope leading to the principal mines, pierced only a trifle below the border of stunted spruce-woods. Very likely Dr. Holland was correct in his poetico-mineralogical statement that
“Gold-flakes gleam in dim defiles
And lonely gorges;”
but it is certain that in the San Juan, silver resides upon the loftiest ledges, where the shadowy peaks form “bridal of the earth and sky.”
The group of mines to which I have referred are known as the “Aspen,” consolidating several names of properties under the ownership of the San Juan and New York Mining and Smelting company, which is also proprietor of the smelter at Durango.
Sitting in a cozy office one evening, with two or three pleasant visitors, the conversation fell upon the other side of the year, for the last man came in rubbing his knuckles as though it were cold.
“Ha, ha!” laughed the merry Madame, glancing out at the ashy-gray peaks, which were wan in the new moonlight with autumn’s first white dusting; and, as she laughed, she quoted
“Once he sang of summer,
Nothing but the summer;
Now he sings of winter,