What could it mean?
Were there such things as canyon mirages?
Then the dim purple of its color told of its great distance from me; and then its familiar shape told I had come into my own again--I had found my old friend once more.

For in all that plateau there was only one snow-capped mountain--the San Francisco Peak; and there, a hundred and fifty, perhaps two hundred miles away, far beyond the Grand Canyon, it smiled brightly at me, as it had for days and days across the desert.
Hearing Jones yelling for somebody or everybody, I jumped up to find a procession heading for a point farther down the rim wall, where our leader stood waving his arms.

The excitement proved to have been caused by cougar signs at the head of the trail where Clarke had started down.
"They're here, boys, they're here," Jones kept repeating, as he showed us different tracks.

"This sign is not so old.

Boys, to-morrow we'll get up a lion, sure as you're born.