The wedge-shaped valley, green with alfalfa and cottonwood, and nestling down amid the bare walls of yellow rock, was a delight and a relief to his tired eyes.

Eager to get down to a level and to find a place to rest, Duane began the descent.
The trail proved to be the kind that could not be descended slowly.

He kept dodging rocks which his horses loosed behind him.

And in a short time he reached the valley, entering at the apex of the wedge.

A stream of clear water tumbled out of the rocks here, and most of it ran into irrigation-ditches.