THE DIVINE ABYSS 
cafion of the geology of my native hills amid the 
Catskills, which show the effects of denudation as 
much older than that shown here as this is olderthan 
the washout in the road by this morning’s shower! 
The old red sandstone in which I hoed corn as a 
farm-boy dates back to Middle Palzozoic time, or to 
the spring of the great geologic year, while the cafion 
is of the late autumn. Could my native hills have 
replied to my mute questionings, they would have 
said: “‘ We were old, old, and had passed through the 
cafion stage long before the Grand Cajion was born. 
We have had all that experience, and have forgot- 
ten it ages ago. No vestiges of our cafions remain. 
They have all been worn down and obliterated by 
the strokes of a hand as gentle as that of a passing 
cloud. Where they were, are now broad, fertile 
valleys, with rounded knolls and gentle slopes, and 
the sound of peaceful husbandry. The great ice 
sheet rubbed us and ploughed us, but our contours 
were gentle and rounded ons before that event. 
When the Grand Cajion is as old as we are, all its 
superb architectural features will have long since 
disappeared, its gigantic walls will have crumbled, 
and rolling plains and gentle valleys will have taken 
its place.” All of which seems quite probable. With 
time enough, the gentle forces of air and water will 
surely change the whole aspect of this tremendous 
chasm. 
On the second day we made the descent into the 
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