the apparent distance seems not to be more than a quarter of a mile. All visitors will learn, if not otherwise, by painful experience, that distance in this region cannot be measured, or even approximately guessed at by sight. This peculiarity, however, is not, as is generally supposed,. due to the purity, but to the rarity of the atmosphere. Besides this, a change takes place in the form of the eye by being relieved by the altitude of so much atmospheric pressure. Several instances, illustrating this fact, occurred in our party. For years they could neither read nor write without glasses, yet here they did both unaware of the fact until from habit, when they got through, they reached for their glasses. The deceptiveness in regard to distance led me and others into several awkward scrapes. One of these occurred on the evening of our arrival at Golden. To understand it, however, a topographical description of the surrounding country is necessary.

West lies the rifted barrier of the Rocky Mountains flanking the plains in a straight line north and south with a nearly perpendicular wall, from fifteen hundred to two thousand feet high. The light green of the plain contrasts beautifully with sombre brown of the feldspathic rocks of the mountain sides, or the dark green of the evergreens with which the mountain slopes, where not too steep, are covered. However on this plain, sporatic isolated mounts, or buttes, as they are here called, have been thrown up, mostly single cones, that stand on the plain looking like haystacks. They are often ten miles distant from the mountains, and twenty from each other, and attain altitudes from 500 to 1,500 feet. They invariably are crowned with massive columnar basalt, rising perpendicularly from the summit of the cone to a height of from 160 to 200 feet, while the slope of the butte below the crown is regular but very steep, say from forty-five to sixty-five degrees. They also differ from the mountain spurs and peaks in this; they are, without exception, bleak and bald, having no vegetation except a little buffalo grass. A

series of these buttes, as already stated, occur north of Clear Creek, and flank the railroad up to Golden, where they terminate. Some of these, I would judge, have an altitude of 1,200 feet above the adjacent plain. South of Clear Creek and east of the main part of Golden, at a distance of about three-fourths of a mile, one of these buttes rises to some 800 feet. The basalt, crowning its top, appears as though it had been planed off, and hence has been named Castle Butte.

Pulpit Rock, or Castle Butte, is represented by the accompanying engraving. The engraving is defective in this, that it does not show that the out crop of basalt crowning the ridge, behind the butte, is separated from it by Clear Creek, through which runs the railroad.. The

view is taken from the bench to the southwest, threefourths of a mile from the butte; and only takes in a few houses in the extreme southeast of the town.

The height and isolated situation of the butte was so inviting that the larger portion of our party were tempted to ascend it to see the sun set behind the eternal snows. As the distance seemed so short, and the sun was still an hour high, they thought the thing was quite feasible. Some of the citizens suggested that the time was rather short, and cautioned them that distances were very deceptive here, but as they saw them bent on the achievement, they pointed out the only practicable way to reach the summit.

Well, to experience a new sensation, a number, both of ladies and gentlemen, started off for Castle Butte, while, accompanied by several ladies and gentlemen, I ascended a bench, or terrace, some fifty or sixty feet high, lying southwest of the town, the top of which, like all the benches, was a level plain lying against the mountains and overlooking the town and plain below, and Clear Creek, from where it breaks from its canyon until lost on the distant plains. This bench was covered with most exquisite flowers. Here were Lupines of every hue between snowy white to tyrean purple; red Penstemous; indigoblue and crimson Oxytropies, (the reader must pardon the scientific names, as these plants, as yet, have no others) yellow Mentzelias; white and purple Anemones; the gaudy Gaillardia aristata, two or three inches in diameter; the white Townsendia; the purple Cleome integrifola; the fragrant Abronia; the cream-colored, lily-shaped flower, large as a hollyhock, of the Yucca angustifolia ; and the fragrant Gaura coccinnea. Hear we whiled away the time plucking the flowers, picking up pebbles, and occasionally casting glances at our friends on the other side of the valley to see how they were succeeding in their laudable efforts at rising in the world. But the sun went down before the foremost of them reached the pre

cipitous hasalt cliff crowning the summit. This could only be surmounted by a detour to the northeast of nearly half a mile. Twilight had set in before any of them stood on the summit, and most of them had to give it up in despair, after having achieved two-thirds of the task.

Returning to our hotel it was not long before stragglers of the unsuccessful ascensionists began to arrive. Seeing that failure was inevitable, they found compensation for their trouble in plucking the beautiful, and to them new and unknown flowers which covered the precipitous mountain sides. It fell to my task to classify and name them. Besides most of those found on the bench, there were three species of Astragalus, two of Enothera, a Vesicaria, a species of Castelegia, and the beautiful Calochortus venustus, as large as a tulip, being, in fact, a three-leaved. lily. It was nine o'clock before the last of the party returned.

At night there was a brilliant aurora, which, through the rare and pure atmosphere of the mountains, showed a rich display of colors and heavy waves of light. The view, however, was obstructed by one of the high buttes north of Clear Creek, which shut out everything in that direction that was not more than 35 degrees above the horizon.

CHAPTER VI.

As it was the ambition of some of our party on the previous evening to see. the sun set from the top of CastleButte, so it was mine to see him rise thence. Early dawn found me on the way up to the summit. Passing over the intervening plain between the town and the foot of the butte or mountain, in the gray dawn I espied coming towards me some animal, which I at first feared might be a wolf, but collecting courage I faced it boldly. It proved to be a large shepherd dog who had watched his master's cows during the night while they climbed up the steep sides of the mountain to crop the luscious herbage.. Throughout the Rocky Mountains, I found it general, that it did not matter how rank and plentiful the grasses were in the valleys and canyons, nor how steep, rugged and dangerous the declivities, all animals, even at the imminent risk of their lives, would ascend the steepest acclivities to crop the scanty herbage of the cliffs and the mountain tops. The cows in question at Golden, like sensible animals, selected the coolest part of the day to get their tid-bit, and took with them a courageous and faithful guard. He seemed to be glad to see me and accompanied me until I returned from my mountain ramble. When I got back to the foot of the mountain he sat down, and on the plain I saw his owner coming with milk pails. Stopping to have a chat, he pointed his finger up the mountain and called to his dog to "fetch 'em, Jack." I told him the dog had been most friendly and had piloted me over the mountain. Ho said, " that he will do for any stranger, as long as he does not meddle with the cows."

Well, instead of following the advice I heard the citizens