The Silver Canyon: A Tale of the Western Plains

by George Manville Fenn

To his surprise, the Beaver took them from his hand with a gesture of contempt, and threw the pieces away, though they would have purchased him a new blanket or an ample supply of ammunition at Lerisco or any other southern town.

“Wait,” he said, airing his English once more. “Plenty! plenty!” and he pointed down towards the lower part of the narrow crevice or crack in the rock along which they were passing.

“Go on, then,” said the Doctor; and once more they continued their descent, which grew more difficult moment by moment, and more dark, and wild, and strange.

For now the rock towered up on either side to a tremendous height, and the daylight only appeared as a narrow streak of sky, dappled with dark spots where the trees hung over the rift. Then the sky was shut out altogether, and they went on with their descent in the midst of a curious gloom that reminded Bart of the hour just when the first streaks of dawn are beginning to appear in the morning sky.

This went on for what seemed to be some time, the descent growing steeper and more difficult; but at last there came a pleasant rushing sound, which Bart knew must be that of the river. Then there was the loud song of a bird, which floated up from far below, and then all at once a pale light appeared on the side of the rocks, which were now so near together that the sides in places nearly touched above their heads.

Five minutes’ more arduous descent, and there was glistening wet moss on the rock, and the light was stronger, while the next minute the pure, clear light of day flashed up from an opening that seemed almost at their feet—an opening that was almost carpeted with verdant green, upon which, after dropping from a rock some ten feet high, they stood, pausing beneath an arch of interweaving boughs that almost hid the entrance to the rift, and there they stood, almost enraptured by the beauty of the scene.

For the bottom of the canyon had been reached, and its mighty verdure-decked, rocky walls rose up sheer above their heads, appearing to narrow towards the top, though this was an optical delusion. All was bright and glorious in the sunshine. The trees and shrubs were of a vivid green, the grass was brilliant with flowers; and running in serpentine waves through the middle of the lovely prairie that softly sloped down to it on either side, and whose sedges and clumps of trees dipped their tips in its sparkling waters, ran the river, dancing and foaming here over its rocky bed, there swirling round and forming deep pools, while in its clear waters as they approached Bart could see the glancing scales of innumerable fish on its sun-illumined shallows.

Hot and weary with their descent, the first act of all present was to dip their cups into the pure clear water, and then, as soon as their feverish thirst was allayed, the Doctor proceeded to test the sand of the river to see if it contained gold, while Bart, after wondering why a man who had discovered a silver mine of immense wealth could not be satisfied, went wandering off along the edge of the river, longing for some means of capturing the fish, whose silver scales flashed in the sunshine whenever they glided sidewise over some shallow ridge of yellow sand that would not allow of their swimming in the ordinary way.

Sometimes he was able to leap from rock to rock that stood out of the river bed, and formed a series of barriers, around which the swift stream fretted and boiled, rushing between them in a series of cascades; and wherever one of these masses of water-worn stone lay in the midst of the rapid stream, Bart found that there was always a deep still transparent pool behind; and he had only to approach softly, and bend down or lie upon his chest, with his head beyond the edge, to see that this pool was the home of some splendid fish, a very tyrant ready to pounce upon everything that was swept into the still water.

“I wish we were not bothering about gold and silver,” thought Bart, as after feasting his eyes upon the fish he turned to gaze upon the beauties of the drooping trees, and spire-shaped pines that grew as regular in shape as if they had been cast in the same mould; while, above all, the gloriously coloured walls of the canyon excited his wonder, and made him long to scale them, climbing into the many apparently inaccessible places, and hunting for fruit, and flower, and bird.