Darker and gloomier became the break between the mountains.

Far above, a thousand feet or more, dense forests of red pine flung their thick shadows over the edge of the chasm, in places almost completely shutting out the light of day.
This was not like the other chasm.

It was deeper and darker and more sullen.

Under its walls the gloom was almost that of night.

Its solitude was voiceless; not a bird fluttered or chirped among its rocks; the lowest of whispered words sounded with startling distinctness.