Its channel was choked with a chaotic confusion of sandstone rock and broken slate, and up through this Aldous carefully picked his way, followed closely by Joanne.

The sky continued to darken above them, until at last the sun died out, and a thick and almost palpable gloom began to envelop them.

Low thunder rolled through the mountains in sullen, rumbling echoes.

He looked back at Joanne, and was amazed to see her eyes shining, and a smile on her lips as she nodded at him.
"It makes me think of Henrik Hudson and his ten-pin players," she called softly.

"And ahead of us--is Rip Van Winkle!" The first big drops were beginning to fall when they came to an open place.
The gorge swung to the right; on their left the rocks gave place to a rolling meadow of buffalo grass, and Aldous knew they had reached the basin.