The mineral springs at Manitou, are of iron and soda. They are now all tamed and chained to commerce; and the place, in the season (we were too early for it), is a scene of excursions, and merry-makings, and all that kind of life which delights in shows and curio shops, and restaurants at all prices.
How sacred a place it must have been to the wild children of the mountain and the plain, as they sought its mystic retreat, for the sake of its healing waters, and its strange, sparkling streams! It was for them, indeed, from Manitou, the Great Spirit.
From the parching drought of the burning summer sun, or the ice-bound cold of winter, they could enter here, at any time, and find refreshment for their thirst, and healing for their wounds.
There surely must be a whole treasury of Indian myth and legend clustering round this spot and its wonderful sacred fountains, all well worth the study of the antiquarian and the poet. I am confident that the place is as rich, in all such matters, as ever Delphi was, or the sacred places of the Greeks.
We were charmed, while at Manitou, by a visit to a superb collection of minerals, beautifully arranged, and all, the product of Colorado. There is something especially attractive in mineral beauty. It took its form in the mystery of darkness, and there, in all its beauty, would remain forever, content to be. But man brings it to the light of day, and we are thrilled as we look at the perfect forms of the crystal, at the rich verdure of the velvet malachite, at the varied veinings of onyx and of agate, and at the many wonders which we admire, but cannot name.
We were told that this splendid collection had been purchased for ten thousand dollars, and was to be shown at the Paris Exhibition of 1900. It is well worthy of such a place.
While at Colorado Springs we had one or two splendid drives. We went through Glen Eyrie, the residence of General Palmer. The romantic place is kept generously open for carriages, but it is not permitted to any one to dismount, or drive in the roads marked private. It is a delightful spot, where nature is left yet in much of its wildness, and just enough of landscape gardening introduced to give a note of home and refinement. An eagle's nest, high up on the rocks, gives the name Glen Eyrie to the attractive place.
We also went to the Garden of the Gods. This is a great space hemmed in by huge crags, and covered all over with fantastic rock formations.
As we drove through, our coachman sounded out the names of the grotesque groups as we passed them by. It required but little imagination to improve on his list. Whatever the mind might fancy, the sandstone was ready to give. The rocks were as variable and changing as the clouds in "Hamlet." They might be whales, or bears, or dragons, or toadstools, or demons, or anything else vague and fantastic.
I can imagine how such a place would set a nervous person mad. Not, that it is not beautiful also, in a certain sense, but, the gibing, the mocking, the absurd prevails; and one is almost shocked, even when in most sober mood. The mental distress, possible in such a place, seemed all concentrated in the face of a lone young bicyclist, with bicycle by his side, who eagerly questioned us as to the way to Manitou. He had lost his way amid these gruesome wonders, and although it was ludicrous to see his distress, one could not but sympathize with his misery, while lost in this wild, so full of monsters. I may here quote what Victor Hugo, in his "Alps and Pyrenees," says of sandstone. It would seem as if he was actually describing some of the fantastic forms which we saw in the Garden of the Gods.