I was startled with dread at the sight, fearing that they might be human bones, with which mine would soon be mingled.
The increasing darkness had made it necessary for the Indians to carry torches, which they did, lighting up the grotesque grandeur of earth and rock through which they passed by the weird glare of their waving brands.
Arriving at the spot they selected as a camping-ground, they made fires, whose fantastic gleams danced upon the rocky walls, and added a magic splendor to their wondrous tracery. The ghostly grandeur of these unfrequented shades can not be described, but their effect is marvelous.
They seem to shadow forth the outline of carving and sculpture, and in the uncertain firelight have all the effect of some old-time temple, whose art and glory will live forever, even when its classic stones are dust.
Here I found water for my parched lips, which was more grateful to my weary senses than any natural phenomenon; and sinking on a moss-grown rock, near the trickling rill that sank away in the sand beyond, I found slumber in that strange, fantastic solitude.
I was aroused by a whistling sound, and, gathering myself up, looked fearfully around me. Two flaming eyes seemed to pierce the darkness like a sword. I shuddered and held my breath, as a long, lithe serpent wound past me, trailing its shining length through the damp sand, and moving slowly out of sight among the dripping vines.
After that I slept no more; and when I saw the struggling light of day pierce the rocky opening above, I gladly hailed the safety of the sunshine, even though it brought sorrow, distress, and toil.
When we rose in the morning, they left the cañon by the path they entered, as it seemed to have no other outlet, and then pursued their way.