Down below it they waited for a couple of hours hoping the men would change their minds, take the Dean, and come on.

But they were never seen again by white men.

They climbed up the mighty cliffs to the summit of the Shewits Plateau, about fifty-five hundred feet, and that it is a hard climb I can testify, for I climbed down and back not far above this point.

At length they were out of the canyon, and they must have rejoiced at leaving those gloomy depths behind.

Northward they went, to a large water-pocket, a favourite camping-ground of the Shewits, a basin in the rocky channel of an intermittent stream, discharging into the Colorado.