Nelly's Silver Mine: A Story of Colorado LifeJackson, Helen Hunt
History
Nelly's Silver Mine: A Story of Colorado Life
Jackson, Helen Hunt
Colorado -- History -- To 1876 -- Juvenile fiction
His mother looked reprovingly at him; but he only laughed and
said:--
"They call every thing after the gods, don't they? So I thought that
pitch was the same sort."
After dinner, Deacon Plummer harnessed Fox and Pumpkinseed into the
new wagon, and they set out for their new home. It was a beautiful
afternoon; as warm and bright as a May day in New England. There was
no snow to be seen except on the mountains, which rose like a great
blue wall with white peaks to the west of the town.
"Now this feels something like," said the Deacon, as they set out;
"this is like what they told us. I wonder if it's been this way all
winter."
They drove five miles straight towards the mountains. Nelly had
taken her picture of Pike's Peak out of the travelling-bag, and held
it in her hand. Now she could look up from it to the real mountain
itself, and see if the picture were true.
"I don't care for the picture any more, papa," said Nelly, "now I've
got the mountain. The picture isn't half so beautiful." And Nelly
hardly took her eyes from the shining, snowy summit till they were
so close to its base that it was nearly shut out from their sight by
the lower hills.
They drove through the little village at the mouth of the Ute Pass.
Here they saw two large hotels, and half a dozen small houses and
shops. This little village is called Manitou. The Indians named it
so. Manitou means "Good Spirit," and they thought the Good Spirit
had made the waters bubble up out of the rocks here to cure sick
people. A few rods beyond the last house, they entered the real
pass. Now their surprises began. On each side of them were high
walls of rock: at the bottom of the right-hand wall was just room
enough for the road; on the left hand they looked over a steep
precipice down to a brook which was rushing over great stones, and
leaping down with much roar and foam from one basin to another;
there was no fence along this left-hand side of the road, and as
Mrs. March looked over she shuddered, and exclaimed:--
"Oh, Robert, let me get out! I never can drive up this road: let us
all walk."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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