The scenery in the vicinity is truly magnificent. A valley several hundred yards in width heads at the springs, and overlooking it from the west in almost perpendicular ascent tower the lofty summits of Pike's Peak, piercing the clouds and reveling in eternal snow. This valley opens eastward and is walled in at the right and left at the mountain's base by a stretch of high table-land surmounted by oaks and stately pines, with now and then an interval displaying a luxuriant coating of grass. The soil is a reddish loam and very rich. The trees, which skirt the creek as it traces its way from the fountain, are generally free from underbrush, and show almost as much regularity of position as if planted by the hand of art. A lusty growth of vegetation is sustained among them to their very trunks, which is garnished by wild flowers during the summer months, that invest the whole scene with an enchantment peculiar to itself. The climate, too, is far milder in this than in adjoining regions, even of a more southern latitude. "'Tis here summer first unfolds her robes, and here the longest tarries"; the grass, continuing green the entire winter, here first feels the genial touch of spring. Snow seldom remains upon the ground to exceed a single day, even in the severest weather, while the neighboring hills and prairies present their white mantlings for weeks in succession. As the creek emerges from the mountains, it increases in size by the accession of several tributaries, and the valley also expands, retaining for a considerable distance the distinguishing traces above described. The vicinity affords an abundance of game, among which are deer, sheep, bear, antelope, elk, and buffalo, together with turkeys, geese, ducks, grouse, mountain fowls, and rabbits. Affording as it does such magnificent and delightful scenery, such rich stores for the supply of human wants both to please the taste and enrapture the heart; so heavenlike in its appearance and character, it is no wonder the untaught savage reveres it as a place wherein the Good Spirit delights to dwell, and hastens with his free-will offerings to the strange fountain, in the full belief that its bubbling waters are the more immediate impersonation of Him whom he adores.