Snake Gulch 



was to come, and the pleasure and honor of it fell 

 to me. My eyes were sharp and peculiarly far- 

 sighted the Indian sight, Jones assured me; and I 

 kept them searching the walls in such places as my 

 companions overlooked. Presently, under a large, 

 bulging bluff, I saw a dark spot, which took the shape 

 of a figure. This figure, I recollected, had been pre 

 sented to my sight more than once, and now it 

 stopped me. The hard climb up the slippery stones 

 was fatiguing, but I did not hesitate, for I was 

 determined to know. Once upon the ledge, I let out 

 a yell that quickly set my companions in my direction. 

 The figure I had seen was a dark, red devil, a painted 

 image, rude, unspeakably wild, crudely executed, but 

 painted by the hand of man. The whole surface of 

 the cliff wall bore figures of all shapes men, 

 animals, birds and strange devices, some in red paint, 

 mostly in yellow. Some showed the wear of time; 

 others were clear and sharp. 



Wallace puffed up to me, but he had wind enough 

 left for another whoop. Jones puffed up also, and 

 seeing the first thing a rude sketch of what might 

 have been a deer or a buffalo, he commented thus: 

 &quot; Darn me if I ever saw an animal like that! Boys, 

 this is a find, sure as you re born. Because not even 

 the Piutes ever spoke of these figures. I doubt if 

 they know they re here. And the cowboys and 



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