e bullet had entered； a great one where it had come out。
The job I made of skinning him lacked some hundred degrees the perfection of my shot； but I accomplished it； and returned to camp in triumph。
〃Shore I knowed you'd plunk him；〃 said Jim very much pleased。 〃I shot one the other day same way； when he was feedin' off a dead horse。 Now thet's a fine skin。 Shore you cut through once or twice。 But he's only half lofer； the other half in plain coyote。 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。 But what stumps me is the mountain range three thousand feet high； crossing the desert and the canyon just above where we crossed the river。 How did the river cut through that without the help of a split or earthquake？〃
〃I'll admit that is a poser to me as well as to you。 But I suppose Wallace could explain it as erosion。 He claims this whole western country was once under water； except the tips of the Sierra Nevada mountains。 There came an uplift of the earth's crust； and the great inland sea began to run out； presumably by way of the Colorado。 In so doing it cut out the upper canyon； this gorge eighteen miles wide。 Then came a second uplift； giving the river a much greater impetus toward the sea； which cut out the second； or marble canyon。 Now as to the mountain range crossing the canyon at right angles。 It must have come with the second uplift。 If so； did it dam the river back into another inland sea； and then wear down into that red perpendicular gorge we remember so well？ Or was there a great break in the fold of granite； which let the river continue on its way？ Or was there； at that particular point； a softer stone； like this limestone here； which erodes easily？〃
〃You must ask somebody wiser than I。〃
〃Well； let's not perplex our minds with its origin。 It is； and that's enough for any mind。 Ah！ listen！ Now you will hear my Singing Cliffs。〃
From out of the darkening shadows murmurs rose on the softly rising wind。 This strange music had a depressing influence； but it did not fill the heart with sorrow； only touched it lightly。 And when； with the dying breeze； the song died away； it left the lonely crags lonelier for its death。
The last rosy gleam faded from the tip of Point Sublime； and as if that were a signal； in all the clefts and canyons below； purple； shadowy clouds marshaled their forces and began to sweep upon the battlements； to swing colossal wings into amphitheaters where gods might have warred； slowly to enclose the magical sentinels。 Night intervened； and a moving； changing； silent chaos pulsated under the bright stars。
〃How infinite all this is！ How impossible to understand！〃 I exclaimed。
〃To me it is very simple；〃 replied my comrade。 〃The world is strange。 But this canyonwhy； we can see it all！ I can't make out why people fuss so over it。 I only feel peace。 It's only bold and beautiful； serene and silent。〃
With the words of this quiet old plainsman； my sentimental passion shrank to the true appreciation of the scene。 Self passed out to the recurring； soft strains of cliff song。 I had been reveling in a species of indulgence； imagining I was a great lover of nature； building poetical illusions over storm…beaten peaks。 The truth； told by one who had lived fifty years in the solitudes； among the rugged mountains； under the dark trees； and by the sides of the lonely streams； was the simple interpretation of a spirit in harmony with the bold； the beautiful； the serene； the silent。
He meant the Grand Canyon was only a mood of nature； a bold promise； a beautiful record。 He meant that mountains had sifted away in its dust； yet the canyon was young。 Man was nothing； so let him be humble。 This cataclysm of the earth； this playground of a river was not inscrutable； it was only inevitableas inevitable as nature herself。 Millions of years in the bygone ages it had lain serene under a half moon； it would bask silent under a rayless sun； in the onward edge of time。
It taught simplicity； serenity； peace。 The eye that saw only the strife； the war； the decay； the ruin； or only the glory and the tragedy； saw not all the truth。 It spoke simply； though its words were grand： 〃My spirit is the Spirit of Time； of Eternity； of God。 Man is little； vain； vaunting。 Listen。 To…morrow he shall be gone。 Peace！ Peace！〃
CHAPTER 14。 ALL HEROES BUT ONE
As we rode up the slope of Buckskin； the sunrise glinted red…gold through the aisles of frosted pines； giving us a hunter's glad greeting。
With all due respect to； and appreciation of； the breaks of the Siwash； we unanimously decided that if cougars inhabited any other section of canyon country； we preferred it； and were going to find it。 We had often speculated on the appearance of the rim wall directly across the neck of the canyon upon which we were located。 It showed a long stretch of breaks； fissures； caves； yellow crags； crumbled ruins and clefts green with pinyon pine。 As a crow flies； it was only a mile or two straight across from camp； but to reach it； we had to ascend the mountain and head the canyon which deeply indented the slope。
A thousand feet or more above the level bench； the character of the forest changed； the pines grew thicker； and interspersed among them were silver spruces and balsams。 Here in the clumps of small trees and underbrush； we began to jump deer； and in a few moments a greater number than I had ever seen in all my hunting experiences loped within range of my eye。 I could not look out into the forest where an aisle or lane or glade stretched to any distance； without seeing a big gray deer cross it。 Jones said the herds had recently come up from the breaks； where they had wintered。 These deer were twice the size of the Eastern species； and as fat as well…fed cattle。 They were almost as tame； too。 A big herd ran out of one glade； leaving behind several curious does； which watched us intently for a moment； then bounded off with the stiff； springy bounce that so amused me。
Sounder crossed fresh trails one after another； Jude； Tige and Ranger followed him； but hesitated often； barked and whined； Don started off once； to come sneaking back at Jones's stern call。 But surly old Moze either would not or could not obey； and away he dashed。 Bang！ Jones sent a charge of fine shot after him。 He yelped； doubled up as if stung； and returned as quickly as he had gone。
〃Hyar； you white and black coon dog；〃 said Jones； 〃get in behind； and stay there。〃
We turned to the right after a while and got among shallow ravines。 Gigantic pines grew on the ridges and in the hollows； and everywhere bluebells shone blue from the white frost。 Why the frost did not kill these beautiful flowers was a mystery to me。 The horses could not step without crushing them。
Before long； the ravines became so deep that we had to zigzag up and down their sides； and to force our horses through the aspen thickets in the hollows。 Once from a ridge I saw a troop of deer； and stopped to watch them。 Twenty…seven I counted outright； but there must have been three times that number。 I saw the herd break across a glade； and watched them until they were lost in the forest。 My companions having disappeared； I pushed on； and while working out of a wide； deep hollow； I noticed the sunny patches fade from the bright slopes； and the golden streaks vanish among the pines。 The sky had become overcast； and the forest was darkening。 The 〃Waa…hoo；〃 I cried out returned in echo only。 The wind blew hard in my face； and the pines began to bend and roar。 An immense black cloud enveloped Buckskin。
Satan had carried me no farther than the next ridge； when the forest frowned dark as twilight； and on the wind whirled flakes of snow。 Over the next hollow； a white pall roared through the trees toward me。 Hardly had I time to get the direction of the trail； and its relation to the trees nearby； when the storm enfolded me。 Of his own accord Satan stopped in the lee of a bushy spruce。 The roar in the pines equaled that of the cave under Niagara； and the bewildering； whirling mass of snow was as difficult to see through as the tumbling； seething waterfall。
I was confronted by the possibility of passing the night there； and calming my fears as best I could； hastily felt for my matches and knife。 The prospect of being lost the next day in a white forest was also appalling； but I soon reassured myself that the storm was only a snow squall； and would not last long。 Then I gave myself up to the pleasure and beauty of it。 I could only faintly discern the dim trees； the limbs of the spruce； which partially protected me； sagged down to my head with their burden； I had but to reach out my hand for a snowball。 Both the wind and snow seemed warm。 The great flakes were like swan feathers on a summer breeze。 There was something joyous in the whirl of snow and roar of wind。 While I bent over to shake my holster； the storm passed as suddenly as it had come。 When I looked up； there were the pines； like pillars of Parian marble； and a white shadow； a vanishing cloud fled； with receding roar； on the wings of the wind。 Fast on this retreat burst the warm； bright sun。
I faced my course； and was delighted to see； through an opening where the ravine cut out of the forest； the red…tipped peaks of the canyon