BY MAC A'RONY.
The Professor, scorning to waste shoe leather and economize
francs, began the ascent on a mule steered by a woman holding on
to the beast's tail.--_Easter on the Riviera._
A curious proceeding held my rapt attention as we neared
Petersburg, a suburb of Denver. At the terminus of a horse-car
line I observed a car approaching us down-grade, with a horse on
its rear platform. As soon as the car stopped at the station the
horse stepped off on a platform and took his place in front of the
car, ready to haul it up-grade again and earn another ride. I did
not have the chance to ask the horse how he enjoyed it, but I
would willingly have exchanged places with him.
Next morning, to my surprise, Coonskin was the first to rise. Our
camp was near Littleton, on the banks of a small stream, and here
at early dawn that ambitious youth gathered a panful of glittering
wet sand, and rushed into the tent with it, almost out of breath.
"Look here, Pod!" he called, excitedly, "see the strike I've made!
The river bottom is yellow with gold!"
Then I heard Pod say, "Rich, I should say! Funny this placer
hasn't been discovered before now."
"Let's file a claim," said Coonskin, "we can make a million in six
months."
"Let's!" the Professor exclaimed. As soon as breakfast was over
both tenderfeet were trying their luck at panning gold. A cabin
stood not far away, and presently there issued from it an old man
who approached the argonauts, and sat on a log to watch them.
"Your first experience at placer mining?" the stranger observed.
"For an instant both men looked confused. I could see that
Coonskin didn't want to reveal his newly discovered fortune by the
way he dumped his sand and said nothing. But Pod held on to a
frying-pan full of sand with one hand, and reached for his
revolver with the other to defend his claim.
"Well, boys," observed the native, laughing, "you're goin' through
jest what all tenderfeet do when they first strike these
parts--try to wash gold dust out of mica. All the streams out here
're filled with them glist'ning particles, but recollect, boys,
all what glitters ain't gold. That you've got's called 'fool's
gold.'"
It was plain that Pod was disappointed, but the stranger gave him
some good advice, and a large Colorado diamond for a keepsake,
then strolled away, leaving two sadder but wiser men.
The road to Colorado Springs was a popular thoroughfare for
bicyclists. Saturday afternoon, as we donks began the ascent of a
long, steep, and winding incline, a din of voices and a whir of
wheels suddenly sounded ahead, and a party of fifty or more young
men and women in gala attire came speeding down toward us. As
quickly as possible we donks turned out to the right. I think the
bicyclists must have been English, for they steered to the left.
In a minute "it was all off."
It happened that the leader of the wheel brigade saw us donks too
late and tried to save himself by turning suddenly to his right.
Result: Tire off and man off. Sequel: A wild rough-and-tumble
conglomeration of sexes, as his followers mixed up with our party.
Bicycles, donkeys, men, women, lunch baskets, packs, hats,
petticoats and cameras were distributed in all directions. The
cries and shrieks of the bruised and frightened together with the
confusion of the wreckage so terrified us donks that as soon as we
could pick ourselves up we reared on our haunches, and cavorted,
and brayed, and so help me Balaam! it was the worst mix-up I was
ever in.
When every man had assisted some one else's girl to her
equilibrium, a council of war assembled to adjust grievances and
repair machines; but the proceedings did not interest the
Professor, for he hustled us donks up hill and out of sight as
quickly as possible. The din of voices soon sounded in the
distance like a swarm of yellow-jackets.
Colorado City was a gambling resort lying between Colorado Springs
and Manitou. Our stop there was all too brief. While Pod and
Coonskin were at feed we donks stole down-street to watch a
"play." That was the time I regretted having eaten the five dollar
bill back in Iowa, for three times in succession the roulette ball
dropped on my colors, and by compounding the principal and
interest each time I could have made a beautiful scoop which might
have given us donks a high old time.
Thence onward Pike's Peak was the chief topic of discussion. To
begin with, Pike's Peak is the largest mountain of its size in the
world. Cats can't live ten minutes on the summit before going
crazy, and dogs even lose their bark at the timber-line. I
concurred with Pod that it would be a big feat to climb the Peak.
On the other hand, Cheese and Skates demurred from our opinion.
Skates positively declined to leave the stable, and Cheese backed
her up by putting both fore feet in the manger. Damfino stood by
Pod and me. She argued that when one has climbed to an elevation
of 14,147 feet above sea-level he is likely to feel a blamed sight
nearer heaven than he is ever apt to be again. The result was that
Damfino and I alone accompanied the men on that adventuresome
trip.
Everything went well until we struck the cog track in Engleman's
Canyon. It was the first experience for us donks in "hitting the
ties." I did not fancy the route at all. But Pod, having seen a
boy ride a native burro up the track, resolved to do no less. The
first half mile was not steep, and the men rode us donks; but when
we caught up with a party of men and women making the ascent, an
ambitious boy grabbed my tail and allowed me the privilege of
dragging him a hundred yards before the Prof discovered him, and
dismounted. How I thanked the boy for his thoughtfulness.
Damfino lagged behind. She had changed her mind. The consequence
was, we donks were driven ahead, and Coonskin no sooner hit
Damfino a whack with the butt of his six-shooter, then she began
to pace so fast none of us could keep up with her. When we came to
the steep 25 per cent. grade the men were winded; not so we donks.
The men called to us, but we would not listen. They threw stones
at us, and we quickened our gait. The men couldn't run up-grade to
save their lives, whereas mountain climbing finds a donkey in his
true element. "Ain't this fun!" exclaimed Damfino. "Never had such
a picnic!" I added. Well, Pod walked half the way from New York
and prided himself on walking, and Coonskin had won medals for
sprinting: so it looked to us a huge joke, and we just brayed.
The next instant a locomotive bell sounded ahead, and I saw a
train approaching from round a bend. We felt that we had the right
of way, and were much put out when the train refused to stop. We
would not get off the track; it would be contrary to the nature of
first-class donkeys to do such a thing.
Say, what wonderfully powerful things steam engines are! We got it
in our heads that we could stop the train, if we didn't push it
off the track. You just ought to have seen us pitch headlong down
the bank of the canyon into the foaming torrent. It was a mighty
plunge we made, I can tell you. Before we rose to the surface the
car stopped, and many of the passengers got off. The banks of the
pool were so steep we couldn't climb out, and we had to swim and
tread water to keep from drowning. Damfino brayed like a lunatic,
I spouted like a geyser, and great excitement reigned among the
tourists.
Evidently "nothing was doing" for our immediate relief. The
engineer was loudly refreshing Pod's memory that he had no right
on the railroad bed with his donkeys, and the female passengers
gesticulated wildly and condoled with Damfino and me for the deep
predicament we were in. One facetious fellow asked if we jackasses
were Baptists, and the Professor told him he didn't know what
denomination we formerly adhered to, but he believed that we were
skeptics now.
Presently our masters began search for ropes and straps. Alas! all
of them had been left behind. I was now through with coughing, but
still weak and out of breath, while Damfino pumped logarithms of
abuse at the cog train and exhorted me to keep swimming--advice
entirely unnecessary. Finally the car steamed down to Manitou, and
the sympathetic occupants called back that they would send aid.
Coonskin was first to come to his senses. Said he, "I can run,
I'll run to the village for help;" and away he went to beat the
cars. This expedient awoke the Prof.'s dormant mind to an idea,
and he began to roll rocks into the Pool. At the same time he
yelled something at us, but I couldn't wait to listen, for I
ducked under water in the nick of time to dodge a half-ton
boulder. It came within an inch of knocking all the bad character
out of Damfino's head, and completely submerged us both. After
that Pod was more careful, and instead of rolling one giant stone
he sent two middle-weights down the bank in a manner to make us
dive. I concluded Pod had gone daft.
"For Balaam's sake! what you trying to do up----" I brayed loudly,
but scarcely finished when I came within an ace of "passing in my
chips," as a gigantic pebble of the first water whizzed between
our heads. Pod called back, "I'm lifting the bottom of the pool so
you two can crawl out." I was astonished at such inventive
faculty. A wonder we donks survived to tell it. Rolling stones may
gather no moss, but they need a lot of looking after.
It seemed hours before Coonskin returned. By this time I had found
a footing so I could rest with my head out of water.
"Why were you gone so long?" Pod asked, as he sat himself on a
rail to rest his windpipe.
"Well," said the winded man, adjusting a lariat, "I hunted all
over Manitou before I found the superintendent of the waterworks."
"But what on earth did you want of him?"
"I told him of the fix of our donks, and asked him to change the
course of the stream till we could get them out of the pool."
"You idiot! And what did he say?"
"Oh, he was civil enough; said he, 'If you would like to have the
mountain moved a little to one side I will have it put on
jackscrews without delay."
Now it nettled me to listen to such nonsense while Damfino and I
were refrigerating in ice water, and I brayed to the jester above:
"Say there, you old fool, if you had only thought to have him pump
the water out of the canyon above us you might have furnished a
little dry humor that we would have appreciated."
The lariat was found to be of little service, but soon a couple of
tourists arrived on the scene and assisted the two with their
contract to raise the devil, as well as the bed of the torrent,
and, at length, to extricate us water-soaked donks from our
unhappy predicament. Then we were taken to the stable, rubbed
down, and put to bed.