the blue and the purple meant great distance, and,
likewise, the height seemed incomparable.

The red river attracted him most. Since this was the medium by which he
must escape with his party, it was natural that it absorbed him, to
the neglect of the gigantic cliffs. And the more he watched the
river, studied it, listened to it, imagined its nature, its power, its
restlessness, the more he dreaded it. As the hours of the afternoon
wore away, and he strolled along and rested on the banks, his first
impressions, and what he realized might be his truest ones, were
gradually lost. He could not bring them back. The river was changing,
deceitful. It worked upon his mind. The low, hollow roar filled his ears
and seemed to mock him. Then he endeavored to stop thinking about it,
to confine his attention to the gap up-stream where sooner or later
he prayed that Joe Lake and his boat would appear. But, though he
controlled his gaze, he could not his thought, and his strange,
impondering dread of the river augmented.

The afternoon waned. Nas Ta Bega came back to camp and said any
likelihood of Joe's arrival was past for that day. Shefford could not
get over an impression of strangeness--of the impossibility of the
reality presented to his naked eyes. These lonely fugitives in the
huge-walled canyon waiting for a boatman to come down that river!
Strange and wild--those were the words which, inadequately at best,
suited this country and the situations it produced.

After supper he and Fay walked along the bars of smooth, red sand. There
were a few moments when the distant peaks and domes and turrets were
glorified in changing sunset hues. But the beauty was fleeting. Fay
still showed lassitude. She was quiet, yet cheerful, and the sweetness
of her smile, her absolute trust in him, stirred and strengthened anew
his spirit. Yet he suffered torture when he thought of trusting Fay's
life, her soul, and her beauty to this strange red river.

Night brought him relief. He could not see the river; only the low roar
made its presence known out there in the shadows. And, there being no
need to stay awake, he dropped at once into heavy slumber. He was
roused by hands dragging at him. Nas Ta Bega bent over him. It was
broad daylight. The yellow wall high above was glistening. A fire
was crackling and pleasant odors were wafted to him. Fay and Jane and
Lassiter sat around the tarpaulin at breakfast. After the meal suspense
and strain were