the opposite wall. Of the one beneath our feet we see only fragmentary
sections in cirques and amphitheaters and on the sides of the
out-jutting promontories between them, while the other, though far
distant, is beheld in all its glory of color and noble proportions--the
one supreme beauty and wonder to which the eye is ever turning. For
while charming with its beauty it tells the story of the stupendous
erosion of the canyon--the foundation of the unspeakable impression made
on everybody. It seems a gigantic statement for even nature to make,
all in one mighty stone word, apprehended at once like a burst of light,
celestial color its natural vesture, coming in glory to mind and heart
as to a home prepared for it from the very beginning. Wildness so
godful, cosmic, primeval, bestows a new sense of earth's beauty and
size. Not even from high mountains does the world seem so wide, so like
a star in glory of light on its way through the heavens.

I have observed scenery-hunters of all sorts getting first views
of yosemites, glaciers, White Mountain ranges, etc. Mixed with the
enthusiasm which such scenery naturally excites, there is often weak
gushing, and many splutter aloud like little waterfalls. Here, for a few
moments at least, there is silence, and all are in dead earnest, as
if awed and hushed by an earthquake--perhaps until the cook cries
"Breakfast!" or the stable-boy "Horses are ready!" Then the poor
unfortunates, slaves of regular habits, turn quickly away, gasping and
muttering as if wondering where they had been and what had enchanted
them.

Roads have been made from Bright Angel Hotel through the Coconino Forest
to the ends of outstanding promontories, commanding extensive views up
and down the canyon. The nearest of them, three or four miles east
and west, are O'Neill's Point and Rowe's Point; the latter, besides
commanding the eternally interesting canyon, gives wide-sweeping views
southeast and west over the dark forest roof to the San Francisco and
Mount Trumbull volcanoes--the bluest of mountains over the blackest of
level woods.

Instead of thus riding in dust with the crowd, more will be gained by
going quietly afoot along the rim at different times of day and night,
free to observe the vegetation, the fossils in the rocks, the seams
beneath overhanging ledges once inhabited by Indians, and to watch the
stupendous scenery in the changing lights and shadows, clouds, showers,
and storms. One need not