50 A BOOK-LOVER'S HOLIDAYS 



camp. We built a blazing fire under one of 

 the giant buttresses of the arch, and the leaping 

 flame brought it momentarily into sudden re- 

 lief. We white men talked and laughed by the 

 fire, and the two silent Indians sat by and lis- 

 tened to us. The night was cloudless. The 

 round moon rose under the arch and flooded 

 the cliffs behind us with her radiance. After 

 she passed behind the mountains the heavens 

 were still brilliant with starlight, and whenever 

 I waked I turned and gazed at the loom of the 

 mighty arch against the clear night sky. 



Next morning early we started on our toil- 

 some return trip. The pony trail led under 

 the arch. Along this the Ute drove our pack- 

 mules, and as I followed him I noticed that 

 the Navajo rode around outside. His creed 

 bade him never pass under an arch, for the arch 

 is the sign of the rainbow, the sign of the sun's 

 course over the earth, and to the Navajo it is 

 sacred. This great natural bridge, so recently 

 ** discovered " by white men, has for ages been 

 known to the Indians. Near it, against the 

 rock walls of the canyon, we saw the crum- 

 bling remains of some cliff-dwellings, and almost 

 under it there is what appears to be the ruin of 

 a very ancient shrine. 



We travelled steadily at a good gait, and we 



