TWIN FALLS, NEAR AMES, COLORADO.
The journey south from Montrose is along Uncompaghre River—every little stream is called a river in the far west—which, like many other streams we have described, has worn a deep bed, in which it is now confined by high walls of polychromatic colors, very beautiful to see. From the occasional rises over which the road passes, very lovely views are to be had of Horse-Fly Peak on the west, and the rather gentle elevation of Tongue Mesa on the east. At Dallas the scenery becomes much more rugged, and thence to Ouray, and Silverton, which is twenty miles from Ironton, the landscape is tumultuous; for nature is here in strange derangement, not to say chaotic dismemberment. It appeared an impossible feat to connect Ouray and Ironton by a stage-road, so tempestuously craggy is the interval, rent as it is by mighty chasm and spurred by amazing peaks of stones piled up into vast pyramids of confusion. But engineering skill dominated even here, and not only was a wagon-road cut through this chain of obstacles, but a narrow-gauge railroad was successfully constructed between Ironton and Silverton.
MOUNT ABRAM.—The hoary head of Mount Abram rises high above its Titanic, yet less lofty, brothers that compose the mountainous battalion of the San Juan Range, in Southern California. This sky-assailing peak lies near the splendid toll-road between Ouray and Silverton, and attains an elevation of 14,235 feet; high enough to receive the first assault of every storm; where the cold is so great that the apex is perpetually wrapped in a thick mantle of snow. A part of the toll-road is shown in the photograph, creeping around the steep slope, where a false step might result in a plunge over a precipice hundreds of feet high.
JAWS OF DEATH, ANIMAS CAÑON.
The approach to Ouray is by a way impressively magnificent, through rifts in castellated walls that are rich with the primary colors, and lofty enough to bathe their crests in the clouds. There goes the river, like a belated business man trying to overtake time, roaring, fretting, panting, with hardly enough space between the escarpments to admit its passage. Along, and over and around this mad-dashing stream the road winds, up and down, in and out, until the points of the compass lose their bearings, and swing around in distraction.