THE GRAND CANON 



The gorges and gulches below them, usually 

 dry, break out in loud uproar, with a sudden 

 downrush of muddy, boulder-laden floods. 

 Down they all go in one simultaneous gush, 

 roaring like lions rudely awakened, each of 

 the tawny brood actually kicking up a dust 

 at the first onset. 



During the winter months snow falls over 

 all the high plateau, usually to a considerable 

 depth, whitening the rim and the roofs of the 

 canon buildings. But last winter, when I 

 arrived at Bright Angel in the middle of Janu- 

 ary, there was no snow in sight, and the 

 ground was dry, greatly to my disappointment, 

 for I had made the trip mainly to see the 

 canon in its winter garb. Soothingly I was 

 informed that this was an exceptional sea- 

 son, and that the good snow might arrive 

 at any time. After waiting a few days, I 

 gladly hailed a broad-browed cloud coming 

 grandly on from the west in big promising 

 blackness, very unlike the white sailors of the 

 summer skies. Under the lee of a rim-ledge, 

 with another snow-lover, I watched its move- 

 ments as it took possession of the canon and 

 all the adjacent region in sight. Trailing its 

 gray fringes over the spiry tops of the great 

 temples and towers, it gradually settled lower, 

 embracing them all with ineffable kindness 

 367 



