Jean did not find even a few rods of level ground.

Bowlders as huge as houses obstructed the stream bed; spruce trees eight feet thick tried to lord it over the brawny pines; the ravine was a veritable canyon from which occasional glimpses through the foliage showed the Rim as a lofty red-tipped mountain peak.
Jean's pack mule became frightened at scent of a bear or lion and ran off down the rough trail, imperiling Jean's outfit.

It was not an easy task to head him off nor, when that was accomplished, to keep him to a trot.

But his fright and succeeding skittishness at least made for fast traveling.

Jean calculated that he covered ten miles under the Rim before the character of ground and forest began to change.
The trail had turned southeast.