yet they stood out clear and distinct in the wonderful
air, and seemed but a short journey away.

Below him were ledges of rock in marvellous colours, yellow and gray,
crimson and green piled one upon another, with the strange light of the
noonday sun playing over them and turning their colours into a blaze of
glory. Beyond was a stretch of sand, broken here and there by
sage-brush, greasewood, or cactus rearing its prickly spines
grotesquely.

Off to the left were pink tinted cliffs and a little farther dark
cone-like buttes. On the other hand low brown and white hills stretched
away to the wonderful petrified forest, where great tracts of fallen
tree trunks and chips lay locked in glistening stone.

To the south he could see the familiar water-hole, and farther the
entrance to the canyon, fringed with cedars and pines. The grandeur of
the scene impressed him anew.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" he murmured, "and a grand God to have it so!"
Then a shadow of sadness passed over his face, and he spoke again aloud
as had come to be his habit in this vast loneliness.

"I guess it is worth it," he said, "worth all the lonely days and
discouraging months and disappointments, just to be alone with a
wonderful Father like mine!"

He had just come from a three days' trip in company with another
missionary whose station was a two days' journey by horseback from his
own, and whose cheery little home was presided over by a sweet-faced
woman, come recently from the East to share his fortunes. The delicious
dinner prepared for her husband and his guests, the air of comfort in
the three-roomed shack, the dainty touches that showed a woman's hand,
had filled Brownleigh with a noble envy. Not until this visit had he
realized how very much alone his life was.

He was busy of course from morning till night, and his enthusiasm for
his work was even greater than when nearly three years before he had
been sent out by the Board to minister to the needs of the Indians.
Friends he had by the score. Wherever a white man or trader lived in the
region he was always welcome; and the Indians knew and loved his coming.
He had come around this way now to visit an Indian hogan where the
shadow of death was hovering over a little Indian maiden beloved of her
father. It had been a long way around and the missionary was weary with
many days in the saddle, but he was glad he had come. The little maid
had smiled to see him, and felt that the dark valley