"It's lost.

There are Navajo Indians close by." "Away in the desert we heard its cry," quoted one of the Mormons.
Jones and I climbed the red mesa near camp to see the sunset.

All the western world was ablaze in golden glory.

Shafts of light shot toward the zenith, and bands of paler gold, tinging to rose, circled away from the fiery, sinking globe.

Suddenly the sun sank, the gold changed to gray, then to purple, and shadows formed in the deep gorge at our feet.
So sudden was the transformation that soon it was night, the solemn, impressive night of the desert.