THE BUFFALO. 399 
the wear of the water, undoubtedly, yet so perfect in form 
that we could with difficulty be brought to believe that the 
hand of man had not fashioned them. The rains of centuries, 
falling upon an immense prairie, had here formed a reservoir, 
and their workings upon the different veins of earth and stone 
had formed these strange and fanciful shapes. 
Before reaching the chasm we had crossed numerous large 
trails, leading a little more to the west than we were travel- 
ling ; and the experience of the previous day had led us to 
suppose that they all terminated at a common crossing near 
by. In this conjecture we were not disappointed, for a trot 
of half an hour brought us into a large road, the thoroughfare 
along which millions of Indians, buffalos and mustangs had 
evidently travelled for years. Perilous as the descent 
appeared, we well knew that there was no other near. The 
leading mule was again urged forward, the steadier and older 
horses were next driven over the sides, and the more skittish 
and intractable brought up the rear. Once in the narrow 
path, which led circuitously down the descent, there was no 
turning back, and our half-maddened animals finally reached 
the bottom in safety. Several large stones were locsened 
from their fastenings by our men, during this frightful 
descent; these would leap, dash and thunder down the 
precipitous sides, and strike against the bottom far below 
as with a terrific and reverberating crash. 
We found a running stream on reaching the lower level of 
the chasm, on the opposite side of which was a romantic dell, 
covered with short grass and a few scattered cotton-woods. 
A large party of Indians had encamped on this very spot but 
a few days previous, the wilted limbs of the trees and other 
“signs,” showing that they had made it a resting-place. 
We, too, halted a couple of hours to give our horses an 
opportunity to graze and rest themselves. The trail, which 
led up on the opposite side, was discovered a short distance 
