w and its depth so great that only in one place
did the noonday sun strike down through its gloomy abyss to the
bottom. At that single spot he could distinguish the foam and flash of
the rushing waters, but elsewhere his only evidence of the sunken
torrent beneath him was the ceaseless reverberations that came rolling
up out of the depths.

"_Mon Dieu!_" he muttered. "To think I came so near--!... Must be what
they call Deep Canyon."

He crept away from the brink. As he rose to his feet his trembling
fingers automatically placed a cigarette between his lips and applied
the patent lighter. Soothed by the narcotic, he stood gazing across at
the far side of the canyon while he sucked in and slowly exhaled the
smoke. With the last puff he touched a fresh cigarette to the butt of
the first, thrust it between his lips, and snipped the cork stub over
the edge into the canyon.

"There you are--take that!" he mocked the abyss.

As he turned away he drew out an extremely thin gold watch. The
position of the hour hand brought a petulant frown to his white
forehead. He hastened to mount his pony. Short as had been the rest,
the wiry little animal had regained his wind and strength. Stung by
the spurs, he plunged up the side of the ridge and loped off along
its level top, parallel with the canyon.

The hunter drew his rifle from its saddle sheath and began to
scrutinize the country before him in search of game. A pair of
weather-beaten antlers so excited him that he even forgot to maintain
his chain of cigarettes. His dark eyes shone bright and eager and his
full red lips grew tense in resolute lines that completely altered the
previous laxity of his expression.

He had covered nearly a mile when he was rewarded for his alertness by
a glimpse of a large animal in the chaparral thicket before him. He
drew rein to test the wind in approved book hunter fashion. There was
not a breath of air stirring. The mesa lay basking in the dry, hot
stillness of the July afternoon. He set the safety catch of his rifle,
ready for instant firing, stretched himself flat on his pony's neck,
and started on.

The animal in the thicket moved slowly to the right, as if grazing. At
frequent intervals the hunter caught glimpses of its roan side, but
could not see its head or the outline of its body. At seventy-five
yards, fearful that his game might take fright and bolt, he turned his
horse sideways, and slipped down to aim his rifle across the sadd