An' y'u're standin' on the Rim." Jean could not see at first just what the Rim was, but by shifting his gaze westward he grasped this remarkable phenomenon of nature.

For leagues and leagues a colossal red and yellow wall, a rampart, a mountain-faced cliff, seemed to zigzag westward.

Grand and bold were the promontories reaching out over the void.

They ran toward the westering sun.

Sweeping and impressive were the long lines slanting away from them, sloping darkly spotted down to merge into the black timber.