Thet accounts fer his feedin' on dead meat." My naturalist host and my scientific friend both remarked somewhat grumpily that I seemed to get the best of all the good things.

I might have retaliated that I certainly had gotten the worst of all the bad jokes; but, being generously happy over my prize, merely remarked: "If you want fame or wealth or wolves, go out and hunt for them." Five o'clock supper left a good margin of day, in which my thoughts reverted to the canyon.

I watched the purple shadows stealing out of their caverns and rolling up about the base of the mesas.

Jones came over to where I stood, and I persuaded him to walk with me along the rim wall.

Twilight had stealthily advanced when we reached the Singing Cliffs, and we did not go out upon my promontory, but chose a more comfortable one nearer the wall.
The night breeze had not sprung up yet, so the music of the cliffs was hushed.
"You cannot accept the theory of erosion to account for this chasm ?" I asked my companion, referring to a former conversation.
"I can for this part of it.