MOTJNTAIIf-BAKRIEES 



217 



falls, each one harder to surmount than the last, 

 until finally you are in the canyon. 



The walls are high, the air is damp, the light 

 is dim. The glare and heat of the desert have 

 vanished and in their place is the shadow of the 

 cave. Yon toil on far up the chasm, creeping 

 along ledges and rising by niches, until a great 

 pool, a basin hewn from the rock, is before 

 you ; and the hewer is seen waving and flash- 

 ing in the air a hundred feet as it falls into the 

 pool. Around you and ahead of you is a sheer 

 pitch of rock curved like a horseshoe. It is 

 insurmountable ; there is no thoroughfare. 

 You will not gain the peak by way of the can- 

 yon. The water-ousel on the basin edge — sole 

 tenant of the gorge — seems to laugh at your ig- 

 norance of that fact. Let us turn back and try 

 the ridges. 



Up the faces of the spurs and thus by the 

 backbones and saddles to the summit is not 

 easy travelling. At first desert vegetation sur- 

 rounds you, for the cacti and all their compan- 

 ions creep up the mountain-side as far as possi- 

 ble. The desert does not give up its dominion 

 easily. Bowlders are everywhere, vines and 

 grasses are growing under their shade ; and, as 

 you advance, the bushes arise and gradually 



InOie 



gorge. 



The ascent 

 by the 

 r%dgea. 



