TIME AND CHANGE 
cafion on mule-back. There is always satisfaction 
in going to the bottom of things. Then we wanted 
to get on more intimate terms with the great 
abyss, to wrestle with it, if need be, and to feel its 
power, as well as to behold it. It is not best always 
to dwell upon the rim of things or to look down upon 
them from afar. The summits are good, but the 
valleys have their charm, also; even the valley of 
humiliation has its lessons. At any rate, four of us 
were unanimous in our desire to sound that vast 
profound on mule-back, trusting that the return 
trip would satisfy our “climbing” aspirations, as 
it did. 
It is quite worth while to go down into the cafion 
on mule-back, if only to fall in love with a mule, and 
to learn what a sure-footed, careful, and docile 
creature, when he is on his good behavior, a mule 
can be. My mule was named “Johnny,” and there 
was soon a good understanding between us. I 
quickly learned to turn the whole problem of that 
perilous descent over to him. He knew how to take 
the sharp turns and narrow shelves of that steep 
zigzag much better than I did. I do not fancy that 
the thought of my safety was “Johnny’s” guiding 
star; his solicitude struck nearer home than that. 
There was much ice and snow on the upper part of 
the trail, and only those slender little legs of “‘ John- 
ny’s” stood between me and a tumble of two or 
three thousand feet. How cautiously he felt his 
66 
