THE HAYMAKER OF THE HEIGHTS 21 



Slide rock the home of the cony frequently 

 is his tomb. All cliffs are slowly falling to 

 pieces, and occasionally a clinging mass weigh- 

 ing hundreds and possibly thousands of tons 

 lets go and down the slide rock it tumbles, 

 bounding, crushing, and tearing. The conies 

 that escape being crushed come out peeved and 

 protesting against unnecessary disturbances. 



One day while crossing the heights there 

 came a roaring and a crashing on the side of a 

 peak that rose a thousand feet above the level 

 of the plateau. A cloud of rock dust rose and 

 filled the air completely for several minutes. 

 As the echoes died away there were calls and 

 alarmed cries of conies. Hastening to the bot- 

 tom of a slope of slide rock I found scattered 

 fragments of freshly broken rocks. A mass had 

 fallen near the top of the peak and this had 

 crashed down upon the long slope of slide rock, 

 tearing and scattering the surface and causing 

 the entire slope of a thousand feet or more to 

 settle. I could hear a subdued creaking, groan- 

 ing, and grinding together, with a slight tumble 

 of a fragment on surface. 



This slide had been temporarily changed into 

 a rock glacier a slow, down-sliding mass of 

 confused broken rocks. Its numerous chang- 

 ing subterranean cavities were not safe places 

 for conies. 



