duttox.] THE CHASM IN THE KAIBAB. 147 



spurs like the forward edge of a plowshare. Only those alcoves which 

 are directly opposite to us can be seen in their full length and depth. 

 Yet so excessive, nay so prodigious, is the effect of foreshortening, that it 

 is impossible to realize their full extensions. We have already noted 

 this effect in the Vermilion Cliffs, but here it is much more exaggerated. 

 At many points the profile of the facade is thrown into view by the 

 change of trend, and its complex character is fully revealed. Like that 

 of the Vermilion Cliffs, it is a series of many ledges and slopes, like a 

 molded plinth, in which every stratum is disclosed as a line or a course 

 of masonry. The Red Wall limestone is the most conspicuous member, 

 presenting its vertical face eight hundred to a thousand feet high, and 

 everywhere unbroken. The thinner beds more often appear in the 

 slopes as a succession of ledges projecting through the scanty talus 

 which never conceals them. 



Numerous detached masses are also seen flanking the ends of the lon«- 

 promontories. These buttes are of gigantic proportions, and yet so over- 

 whelming is the effect of the wall against which they are projected that 

 they seem insignificant in mass, and the observer is often deluded by 

 them, failing to perceive that they are really detached from the wall 

 and perhaps separated from it by an interval of a mile or two. 



At the foot of this palisade is a platform through which meanders the 

 inner gorge in whose dark and somber depths flows the river. Only in 

 one place can the water surface be seen. In its windings the abyss, 

 which holds it extends for a short distance towards us and the line of 

 vision enters the gorge lengthwise. Above and below this short reach 

 the gorge swings its course in other directions and reveals only a dark, 

 narrow opening, while its nearer wall hides its depths. This inner chasm 

 is 1,000 to 1,200 feet deep. Its upper 200 feet is a vertical ledge of 

 sandstone of a dark rich brownish color. Beneath it lies the granite 

 of a dark iron-gray shade, verging towards black, and lending a gloomy 

 aspect to the lowest deeps. Perhaps a half mile of the river is disclosed. 

 A pale, dirty red, without glimmer or sheen, a motionless surface, a 

 small featureless spot, inclosed in the dark shade of the granite, is all 

 of it that is here visible. Yet we know it is a large river, a hundred 

 and fifty yards wide, with a headlong torrent foaming and- plunging 

 over rocky rapids. 



A little, and only a little, less impressive than the great wall across the 

 chasm are the buttes upon this side. And such buttes! All others in 

 the West, saving only the peerless Temples of the Virgen, are mere trifles 

 in comparison with those of the Grand Canon. In nobility of form, beauty 

 of decoration, and splendor of color, the Temples of the Virgen must, on 

 the whole, be awarded the palm ; but those of the Grand Canon, while 

 barely inferior to them in those respects, surpass them in magnitude and 

 fully equal them in majesty. But while the Valley of the Virgen pre- 

 sents a few of these superlative creations, the Grand Canon presents 

 them by dozens. In this relation the comparison would be analogous 



