Venters rode into the trail and up the canyon.

Gradually the trees and caves and objects low down turned black, and this blackness moved up the walls till night enfolded the pass, while day still lingered above.

The sky darkened; and stars began to show, at first pale and then bright.

Sharp notches of the rim-wall, biting like teeth into the blue, were landmarks by which Venters knew where his camping site lay.

He had to feel his way through a thicket of slender oaks to a spring where he watered Wrangle and drank himself.