The next morning, a young miner invited us out to take a look at a fine specimen of the American black-eagle, which he had caught a few days before, while "prospecting" along the Snowy Range. He was comparatively a young bird still, yet measured some six feet from tip to tip of wings, and was as brave and fierce as a tiger. He was kept chained by the leg in a dark stable; but he was as wide awake as he could be, and screamed and flew savagely at every one who came near him. It was intended to forward him to the great Fair soon to be held at St. Louis, as a specimen of the feathered tribe from Colorado, where no doubt he created a sensation. His eyes were bright and keen as a falchion, and his talons ugly looking grappling-irons. So, too, his legs were massive, compact columns, that seemed made for strength and endurance. And altogether he was not a bad representative of the Rocky Mountains, where his species have their birth-place and home.
From Fair Play we descended the South Platte direct to Denver, following the course of the river wherever practicable. In some places, its narrow and precipitous cañons prevented this, but we always returned to its banks again as soon as possible. Some miles from Fair Play, we passed several gems of lakes, which H. declared to be "the natural home of the wild-duck;" but though the ducks were there, he failed to bag any, greatly to his disgust. L. more fortunate, got one, and killed several others, but failed to reach them because of the marshes. Our road led over several ranges, some of them quite precipitous, but in the main followed the windings of the Platte, as before said. Here and there the wild cañons, through which the Platte sped like an arrow, became picturesque in the extreme. Frequently our course ahead seemed barred by impenetrable fastnesses, yet somehow we always got through. High and rocky cliffs towered all about us, and all up and down these, wherever they could secure a foothold, the fir, pine, maple, ash, etc. grew densely. As we neared Denver, ranches became more frequent, and saw-mills multiplied, the lumber from which was shipped far and near, among the mines and across the Plains, even to Julesburg and Fort Riley. The road in the main was a natural way; but here and there it had been blasted out of the bluff, or built up on the edge of the Platte, at large expense, and I believe is a chartered turnpike from Fair Play down. The Platte alone makes such a road practicable, and South Park and all its dependencies would be virtually inaccessible, were it not for this great natural highway into the very heart of the Mountains. Altogether, it is a remarkably good road, all things considered, and so are the majority of the roads there. As a rule, they follow the streams that seem to lead almost everywhere among the ranges, as if purposely chiseled out from the beginning, as future pathways of civilization. Our miners, taking the hint, carry their roads over heights, and through depths, and among peaks, that would appal most eastern engineers, and thus enable us to conquer nature in her mightiest strongholds.
The last day out from Denver, we ascended Bradford's Hill—our last serious climb—about noon. This is in reality the first range of the mountains, and gets itself up to some 8,000 feet above the sea; but is yet termed a "Hill," in Colorado parlance. We all got out or dismounted and walked up, to relieve our worn animals, and became well blown ourselves before reaching the summit—the atmosphere grew so rare. As we rounded its western shoulder, we caught a grand view of the Snowy Range again, solemn and sublime over and above all intervening peaks and ridges; but with one accord, all hastened forward to behold once more the Plains, the Plains! Yes, there they were, in all their immeasurable extent! We were out of the Mountains—our long jaunt almost over. No more cañons. No more forests. No more snow-squalls. No more rides, hour by hour, through narrow valleys and defiles, where the whole man feels "cabined, cribbed, confined." No. There were the Plains, illimitable, grand, in all their immensity and sublimity. We thought the view from Sangre del Christo fine, and so it is; but as a view of the Plains proper, without the Mountains thrown in, this view from Bradford's Hill, I think, perhaps surpasses it. There is no end to the vast outstretch and outlook, and in the serene atmosphere of that region the eye ranges over it all with an ease and freedom, only equalled by the eagle himself when poised in mid air. To say that the Plains are visible for miles on miles—north, south, east—is but a feeble description of the wonderful panorama, that there unfolds before you. To the south appeared Castle Rock and its sister buttes, that we had passed three weeks before, looking now like mole-hills beneath us. Issuing from the Mountains at our feet, we could trace the South Platte and Cherry Creek to where they unite near Denver, and then follow the Platte on and on to the east, till lost in the far horizon. Denver lay like a toy-city, seemingly at the base of the Mountains, though really twenty miles away. Over all, was one of those perfect days,
"So cool, so calm, so bright,
The bridal of the earth and sky."
as old George Herbert wrote, which no Bostonian or Gothamite ever truly witnesses—with not a cloud or haze even visible, the air so pure it was joy to breathe it and ecstacy to gaze abroad through it. Verily, here in Colorado, if anywhere.
"The sky is a drinking cup,
That was overturned of old,
And it pours into the eyes of men
Its wine of airy gold;
We drink that wine all day
Till the last drop is drained up,
And are lighted off to bed,
By the jewels in the cup."
Off to the southwest, just shouldering over the range, presently a white cloud loomed up, no bigger than a man's hand; but the dry atmosphere east was too much for it, and it faded away as fast as it toppled over. As we stood gazing at the immensity before us, some one incidentally said, "I think I now understand how Bilboa felt, when from the summit of the Andes he beheld the Pacific;" and it is a good illustration of the identity of thought under like circumstances, that half-a-dozen others quickly responded, "You bet! Just thinking of the same thing!"
We reached Denver the same evening, jaded and travel-stained, but full of enthusiasm over our trip among the mountains. We had traversed nine counties, some as large as a moderate state east, and been absent nearly a month in all. We had been reported captured and slain by the Indians, as much as two or three times, but from first to last did not see a hostile aborigine. We drove the same animals down and back, over five hundred miles continuously, without the loss of a mule, and seldom made less than thirty or forty miles a day, when on the road. Our ambulances proved very convenient and serviceable, but in crossing the ranges or in bad cañons I always preferred a mule. My favorite was Kate, a noble jenny, as large as a horse and a splendid walker, that carried me over many a mile delightfully. She was as gentle as a kitten, and as faithful as a dog—it sometimes seemed almost as knowing as a man—obeying every whim of her rider, and following him everywhere. If any mule ever attains immortality and a sort of heaven hereafter, surely Kate deserves to. In crossing the ranges or threading the cañons thus, on horse or mule back, several of us would often get miles ahead, and the time thus gained afforded ample leisure for observation and reflection. We were seldom at a loss for conversation, there was so much to investigate and discuss; but when all else failed, we amused ourselves by organizing (on paper) two monster Mining Companies, with fabulous capitals, in which we divided off and took stock. I believe I belonged to the Grand Sangre del Christo Rocky Mountain Mutual Benefit Gold and Silver Mining Association; capital, $20,000,000! H. and C. and others constituted a rival company, with like assets and name equally pretentious. We set up these financial fictions early in the trip, when somebody fell to talking about "feet;" and what with selling "short," operating for a "rise," "corralling the market," "declaring dividends," and abusing each others' "Company," they served to while away many an idle interval. The last afternoon out, we "consolidated," shook hands over the "union," elected a full "Board of Officers," and adjourned to receive our "joint dividends," at New York; but hitherto have never been so fortunate as to get a "quorum" together there, and doubt now if we ever will.