The trend of the trail had been upward all afternoon--gradual at first, hardly noticeable.

But as the day drew to a close the cattle mounted a slope, progressing more slowly, and the horses hitched to the wagons began to strain in the harness.
The rise seemed to be endless--to have no visible terminus.

For it went up and up until it melted into the horizon; like the brow of a hill against the sky.

But when, after hours of difficult travel, herd and men gained the summit, a broad, green-brown mesa lay before them.
The mesa was miles wide, and ran an interminable distance eastward.
Looking back over the way they had come, the men could see that the level over which they had ridden for the past two days was in reality the floor of a mighty valley.

Far away into the west they could see a break in the mesa--where it sloped down to merge into the plains near Willets.