We were far west of Clarke's trail now, and faced a point above where Kanab Canyon, a red gorge a mile deep, met the great canyon.

As I ran along the rim, looking for a fissure or break, my gaze seemed impellingly drawn by the immensity of this thing I could not name, and for which I had as yet no intelligible emotion.
Two "Waa-hoos" in the rear turned me back in double-quick time, and hastening by the horses, I found the three men grouped at the head of a narrow break.
"He went down here.

Wallace saw him round the base of that tottering crag." The break was wedge-shaped, with the sharp end off toward the rim, and it descended so rapidly as to appear almost perpendicular.

It was a long, steep slide of small, weathered shale, and a place that no man in his right senses would ever have considered going down.

But Jones, designating Frank and me, said in his cool, quick voice: "You fellows go down.