k her when she can get away. I'll send my car for her."

This he did. The private Pullman, with a maid and a steward in charge,
went back that night and on the second morning Zulime came down the line
in lonely state.

I met her at the station, and for ten days we lived the most idyllic,
yet luxurious life beside that singing stream. We rode the trails, we
fished, we gathered wild flowers. Sometimes of an afternoon we visited
the ranches or mining towns round about, feasting at night on turtle
soup, and steak and mushrooms, drinking champagne out of tin cups with
reckless disregard of camp traditions, utterly without care or
responsibility--in truth we were all under military discipline!

The General was a soldier even in his recreations. Each day's program
was laid out in "orders" issued in due form by the head of the
expedition--and these arrangements held! No one thought of changing
them. Our duty was to obey--and enjoy.

Never before in all my life had anything like this freedom from
responsibility, from expense, come to me. So carefree, so beautiful was
our life, that I woke each morning with a start of surprise to find its
magic a reality. It was like the hospitality of oriental kings in the
fairy stories of my childhood.

For four weeks we lived this incredible life of mingled luxury and
mountaineering, attended by troops of servants and squadrons of horses,
threading the high forests, exploring deep mines, crossing Alpine
passes, and feasting on the borders of icy lakes--always with the
faithful "Nomad," the General's private Pullman car, waiting in the
offing ready in case of accident--and then, at last, after riding
through Slumgullion Gulch back to Wagon Wheel, Zulime and I took leave
of these good friends and started toward Arizona. I had not yet
displayed to her the Grand Canon of the Colorado!

Five years before, on a stage drawn by four wild-eyed bronchos I had
ridden from Flagstaff to Hance's Cabin in the glorious, exultant
old-time fashion, but now a train ran from Williams to the edge of the
abyss, and while I mourned over the prosaic change, I think Zulime
welcomed it, and when we had set up our little tent on a point of the
rim which commanded a view (toward the Southwest) of miles and miles of
purple pagodas, violet towers and golden peaks we were content. Nothing
could change the illimitable majesty of this view.

Day by day we watched the colorful play of sun-light and shadow along
those m