But down in the depths of the canon it was cool; and a strong wind blew into the faces of the men.
The herd was perhaps an hour passing through the canon; and when Lawler and Shorty, riding side by side, emerged from the cool gloom, they saw the cattle descending a shallow gorge, going toward a wide slope which dipped into a basin of mammoth size.
Lawler knew the place; he had ridden this trail many times in the years before the coming of the railroad; and when he reached the crest of the slope and looked out into the hazy, slumbering distance, he was not surprised, though his eyes quickened with appreciation for its beauty.
Thirty miles of virgin land lay before him, basking in the white sunlight--a green-brown bowl through which flowed a river that shimmered like silver.

The dark bases of mountains loomed above the basin at the eastern edge--a serrated range with lofty peaks that glowed white in the blue of the sky.

South and north were other mountains--somber, purple giants with pine-clad slopes and gleaming peaks--majestic, immutable.
Looking down from where he sat on Red King, Lawler could see the head of the herd far down the ever-broadening trail.

The leaders were so far away that they seemed to be mere dots--black dots moving in an emerald lake.
The cattle, too, had glimpsed the alluring green that spread before them; and at a little distance from Lawler and several of the other men they were running, eager for the descent.
"She's a whopper, ain't she ?" said Shorty's voice at Lawler's side.
"I've seen a heap of this man's country, but never nothin' like that.

I reckon if the Lord had spread her out a little mite further she'd have took in mighty near the whole earth.