im, and he saw a
kind of cold purple bloom creep ahead of him to cross the canyon, to
mount the opposite slope and chase and darken and bury the last golden
flare of sunlight.

Venters rode into a trail that he always took to get down into the
canyon. He dismounted and found no tracks but his own made days
previous. Nevertheless he sent the dog Ring ahead and waited. In a
little while Ring returned. Whereupon Venters led his horse on to the
break in the ground.

The opening into Deception Pass was one of the remarkable natural
phenomena in a country remarkable for vast slopes of sage, uplands
insulated by gigantic red walls, and deep canyons of mysterious source
and outlet. Here the valley floor was level, and here opened a narrow
chasm, a ragged vent in yellow walls of stone. The trail down the five
hundred feet of sheer depth always tested Venters's nerve. It was
bad going for even a burro. But Wrangle, as Venters led him, snorted
defiance or disgust rather than fear, and, like a hobbled horse on the
jump, lifted his ponderous iron-shod fore hoofs and crashed down over
the first rough step. Venters warmed to greater admiration of the
sorrel; and, giving him a loose bridle, he stepped down foot by foot.
Oftentimes the stones and shale started by Wrangle buried Venters to
his knees; again he was hard put to it to dodge a rolling boulder, there
were times when he could not see Wrangle for dust, and once he and the
horse rode a sliding shelf of yellow, weathered cliff. It was a trail
on which there could be no stops, and, therefore, if perilous, it was at
least one that did not take long in the descent.

Venters breathed lighter when that was over, and felt a sudden assurance
in the success of his enterprise. For at first it had been a reckless
determination to achieve something at any cost, and now it resolved
itself into an adventure worthy of all his reason and cunning, and
keenness of eye and ear.

Pinyon pines clustered in little clumps along the level floor of the
pass. Twilight had gathered under the walls. Venters rode into the trail
and up the canyon. Gradually the trees and caves and objects low down
turned black, and this blackness moved up the walls till night enfolded
the pass, while day still lingered above. The sky darkened; and stars
began to show, at first pale and then bright. Sharp notches of the
rim-wall, biting like teeth into the blue, were landmarks by which
Venters knew where his camping site