A transformation of color and shade appeared to be going on swiftly, as if gods were changing the scenes of a Titanic stage.

As she gazed the dark fringed line of the north rim turned to burnished gold, and she watched that with fascinated eyes.

It turned rose, it lost its fire, it faded to quiet cold gray.

The sun had set.
Then the wind blew cool through the pinyons on the rim.

There was a sweet tang of cedar and sage on the air and that indefinable fragrance peculiar to the canyon country of Arizona.