stages go over the ranges , said to be
seven in number , between Lyons and
the park all winter through , going over
one day and coming back the next.
Some of the park families come down
below for the winter , especially those
who' have children ; but there are
always some who stay through , who
have to have their coal-oil and their
provisions , and there is the postmaster ,
that venerable Institution , never to be
forgotten by any visitor , who is no
respecter of seasons. So the stage
makes regular trips , though usually
without passengers. Five hours on the
high driver's seat , on a blustering whiter
day , is no trifle , even in anticipation ;
but you can bury yourself a foot deep in
blankets if you choose , and if your nose
does not freeze , the rest of you will not.
The driver is communicative , and not
averse to telling his troubles. You learn
how his fur gloves were stolen and how
he was cheated in the matter of his
overcoat and how anybody can drive
stages that likes to , but as for him , he
has had about enough of it. He has
long ceased to care for points of interest ,
but he knows all the lore of the trail
and is willing to impart it. He shows
you Button Peak and Coffintop , Gal-
houn's Gulch and Mason's , the roads to
Antelope and Big Elk parks and
Collyer's Crag , and tells its story ; how
the Eeverend Robert Oollyer came over
the road one day , and seeing that so
many things bore the names of men ,
finally asked his driver what he would
take to tell future travelers that that
impressive monument was called
Collyer's Orag. The driver considered ,
and found that he could afford to render
that service for the trifling consideration
of a drink of whisky. "Whoa ! " said
the reverend ; not to flee from the
doomed vehicle , nor to enter upon a
service of prayer for the driver's soul by
the roadside , but to open his valise.
And Collyer's Crag it has remained to
this day. The word crag , it may be
remarked , which to most people's mind
belongs only in poetry , is in common
use here ; it is applied to the high and
inaccessible rooks on the face of a cliff.
* * * #
We toil up the winding ascent of
Rowell's Hill , and from the distant
gateway of the summit specks appear
traveling to meet us , which presently
resolve themselves into a herd of black
cattle , with two horsemen in their rear ,
and , circling about them as they spread
over the mountain , a small yellow
object , which barks in the unmistakable
voice of a Scotch collie. And thereby
hangs a tail a tail with a white tip , to
match the active feet , the fluffy breast ,
the collar and the stripe between the
soft brown eyes.
There was a man who had a collie of
ancient race , the which he loved passing
well , even as did his wife and babies.
But since dogs in town must not drive
anything , nor oven bark except under
protest ( which is a great hardship ) he
took the little dog over the many miles
of railroad and over the seven mountain-
ranges and gave her to his friend in
Estes Park , where there are no dog-
poisoners and where cattle can be chased
every day , not to mention the wild deer.
But ho stipulated that the dog should
become part and parcel of the ranch ,
and stay there as long as she lived. So
his friend kept her there all that winter ,
and all the next summer , and well into
the following winter ; but one day ho
decided to go down to the plains , to see
his friends and sell some cattle , and he
took the dog with him. And then as
they drew down the last mountain , who
should rise up out of Hubbell's stage to
confront him but the owner of the dog ,
who according to all law and order
belonged 500 miles away ; so that the
poor ranchman could do no less than
wonder what kind of a world this is ,
anyway.
# # * *
Up and down we go over the well-
remembered stretches of that grand
road , skirting the shivery chasms ,
pounding through the quiet wooded
depths of the valleys , whipping around
corners where the wind smites us flat-
handed in the face ; and as we strike
into the long level of Muggins' Gulch ,
the snow begins to fall in earnest.
Presently we pass that ranch-house
where , through the opening gap ahead ,
the far-off stony face of the Mummy
ought to appear ; but no Mummy even
the tops of the hills that enclose the
road are hidden by the driving snow.
A little further and the trail is buried ;
and the horses seem not to be equipped
with that desirable instinct we read
about ; they cannot keep nor find the
road. Much lurching and bumping
results. In the course of time , we come
to the brow of the Park hill and begin
the descent. The horses are on stilts by
this time , and stumbling continually ;
there are deep gulliep , now on one side ,
now on the other , masked by snow
drifts. The sublime landscape beneath
is hidden from view ; all we can see is a
vague white expanse 1500 feet below us ;
there is nothing to distract our atten
tion from our immediate surroundings.
The steep part of the road comes , with
sudden curves ; the stage slows wildly
on the slippery surface ; the driver
hitches himself up in his seat and grins
oddly. Then the snow arrives so thickly
as to put blinders on the unhappy pas
senger's spectacles , and ho can only
hang on and wonder what is coming
next.
* * *
The people who whiter in the park
make themselves very comfortable , and
the visitor leads a lazy and contented
life. The great stone fireplace roars
with the blaze of the pine-knots , and all
the trees below timber-line are there for
firewood. The table is spread three
times a day with the meat that Friar
Tuck sot before the Black Knight-
learning courtesy from whom , the
grateful guest refrains from impertinent
questions. Out doors it still snows , and
at night it freezes deeply ; but the
traditions of the place are unchangeable
you leave your doors and windows
open , and pile on another blanket. And
all day and until late at night stories
are told around the fire. One learns
many singular facts relative to the
strange race of summer tourists. The
daughter of the house tells gaily of the
eastern ladies who became enthusiastic
over the park beaver , and declared their
intention of having collars made for
themselves of beaver fur ; and how they
accepted eagerly her guileless suggestion
that they have them trimmed with a
cluster of beaver tails. The discussions
of the young men are of guns and
ammunition , and their stories are of the
wild creatures of the mountains. One
listens to the tale of the recent grizzly ,
who was taken in a "trap , how ho
smashed the underbrush and snapped
the young trees in his mad charges
towards them , as they approached to
photograph him first and then shoot
him ; one is even admitted within the
outer gate of that seven-fold wall of
mystery that surrounds the retreat of
the last of the wild buffalo , hi whose
existence many will not bejiove.
* * * *
Altogether , I have not yet found a
bad time of year to visit Estes Park.
A. T. RICHARDSON.
THE LARGEST GRANITE BLOCK.
The largest solid piece of granite ever
loosened in a quarry in this country is
credited to the John L. Goss quarry at
Stoningtou , Me. An enormous block ,
325 feet long , 50 feet wide and 88 feet
thick , and weighing 52,000 or more tons ,
was split off there some days ago.
A WEEK AMONG THE GEYSERS.
Join the Burlington's personally con
ducted excursion to Yellowstone Park
and spend the happiest week of your
life among the geysers , boiling springs ,
lakes and canons of the nation's play
ground. Nothing like it on earth. The
air is cool and pleasant ; the scenery
magnificent , and the 150-mile stage ride
through the park , a novel and exhilarat
ing experience.
Leaves Omaha , Tuesday , Aug. 20.
Back again on the morning of the 29th.
Less than $100 covers every expense
railroad fare , sleeper both ways , meals
en route , hotels and stage in the park.
Information on request.
J. FRANCIS ,
General Passenger Agent ,
Omaha , Neb.