THE VERMILION CLIFFS. _ 
/ 3 y £ ,&*AZl<ru^ 44+ cL»y^~ f 
!( Late in the autumn of 1880 I rode along the base of 
the Vermilion Cliffs, from Kanab to the Virgen, having the 
esteemed companionship of Lor. Holmes. We had spent the 
summer and most of the autumn among the cones of the Uin- 
karet, in the dreamy parks and forests of the Kaibab, and 
in the solitudes of the Intervening desert; and our sen- 
sibilities had been somewhat overtasked by the scenery of 
the Grand Canon. It seemed to us that all grandeur and 
* 
beauty thereafter beheld must be mentally projected against 
the recollection of those scenes, and be dwarfed into com- 
monplace, by fetae compar Isoi^ but as we moved onward the walls 
increased in altitude, in animation, and in power. At length 
the towers of Short Creek burst into view, and, beyond, the 
great cliff in long perspective thrusting out into the desert 
plain its gables and spurs. The day was a rare one for this 
region. The mild, subtropical autumn was over, and just 
giving place to the first approaches of winter. A sullen 
storm had been gathering from the southwest, and the first 
lain lor many months was falling, mingled with snow. Heavy 
clouds rolled up against the battlements, spreading their 
fleeces over turret and crest, and sending down curling 
flecks ol white mist into the nooks and recesses between 
towers and buttresses. The next day was rarer still, with 
sunshine and storm battling for the mastery. Rolling 
masses of cumuli rose up into the blue to Incomprehensible 
