OH, SHOOT! 



Colorado River. The river itself, by the way, 

 is crossable in a length of over two hundred 

 miles in but two places, and there only by the 

 assistance of slender wire cables, totally un- 

 suited to the average nervous temperament; 

 hence there isn't much crowding from this 

 direction. Toward the north, one may travel 

 some hundreds of miles before striking a rail- 

 road ; and to the east and west there is a lot of 

 unimproved, vacant property, peopled mainly 

 by tribes of warlike North American aborigines 

 engaged in the manufacture of baskets, blan- 

 kets, beadwork, and prehistoric pottery for 

 Fred Harvey's line of curio stores. Frightful 

 tales are told of Indian atrocities in these parts, 

 and I know they are true, for I bought several. 

 This north bank of the Canon is in reality 

 the backbone of the Buckskins -mountains 

 which are aptly named, for every buck abo- 

 rigine with whom I dickered for a genu- 

 ine Hartford, Connecticut, Navajo blanket 

 skinned me. However, it is an interesting if 

 deceptive country ; although it appears to be 

 as level as a floor, in reality it is rent by 

 ravines, cracked by canons, and pitted with 

 potholes altogether quite the place a moun- 

 tain lion would select for a residence. 



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