Not for some time did he grasp the wonder of that acclivity.

It was no less than a mountain-side, glistening in the sun like polished granite, with cedar-trees springing as if by magic out of the denuded surface.

Winds had swept it clear of weathered shale, and rains had washed it free of dust.

Far up the curved slope its beautiful lines broke to meet the vertical rim-wall, to lose its grace in a different order and color of rock, a stained yellow cliff of cracks and caves and seamed crags.

And straight before Venters was a scene less striking but more significant to his keen survey.