I saw those
trains crawling along through the pines of the Coconino Forest and close
up to the brink of the chasm at Bright Angel, I was glad to discover
that in the presence of such stupendous scenery they are nothing. The
locomotives and trains are mere beetles and caterpillars, and the noise
they make is as little disturbing as the hooting of an owl in the lonely
woods.

In a dry, hot, monotonous forested plateau, seemingly boundless, you
come suddenly and without warning upon the abrupt edge of a gigantic
sunken landscape of the wildest, most multitudinous features, and those
features, sharp and angular, are made out of flat beds of limestone and
sandstone forming a spiry, jagged, gloriously colored mountain range
countersunk in a level gray plain. It is a hard job to sketch it even in
scrawniest outline; and, try as I may, not in the least sparing myself,
I cannot tell the hundredth part of the wonders of its features--the
side canyons, gorges, alcoves, cloisters, and amphitheaters of vast
sweep and depth, carved in its magnificent walls; the throng of great
architectural rocks it contains resembling castles, cathedrals, temples,
and palaces, towered and spired and painted, some of them nearly a mile
high, yet beneath one's feet. All this, however, is less difficult than
to give any idea of the impression of wild, primeval beauty and power
one receives in merely gazing from its brink. The view down the gulf of
color and over the rim of its wonderful wall, more than any other view
I know, leads us to think of our earth as a star with stars swimming in
light, every radiant spire pointing the way to the heavens.

But it is impossible to conceive what the canyon is, or what impression
it makes, from descriptions or pictures, however good. Naturally it is
untellable even to those who have seen something perhaps a little like
it on a small scale in this same plateau region. One's most extravagant
expectations are indefinitely surpassed, though one expects much from
what is said of it as "the biggest chasm on earth"--"so big is it
that all other big things--Yosemite, the Yellowstone, the Pyramids,
Chicago--all would be lost if tumbled into it." Naturally enough,
illustrations as to size are sought for among other canyons like or
unlike it, with the common result of worse confounding confusion. The
prudent keep silence. It was once said that the "Grand Canyon could put
a dozen Yosemites in its vest pocket."

The justly