All that Bud saw was an intricate assembly of those terrific pillars, whose height he did not know, since he had no time to glance up and estimate the distance.

There was no method, no channel worn through in anything that could be called a line.

Whatever primeval torrent had honeycombed the ledge had left it so before ever its waters had formed a straight passage through.

How Eddie knew the way he could only conjecture, remembering how he himself had ridden devious trails down on the Tomahawk range when he was a boy.

It rather hurt his pride to realize that never had he seen anything approaching this madman's trail.
Without warning they plunged into darkness again.