s and fell
over buried logs before I reached the building. The long hall was in
darkness. I knew that most of the boys were out on duty. What if no one
were there! I knew my strength was about used up, and that I could never
cross the railroad tracks to the Superintendent's house.

I went down the long cold hall knocking on every door. Nothing but
silence and plenty of it. I reached the door at the end of the hall and
knocked. Instantly I remembered that room belonged to Rees. His dog,
waiting to be taken down into the Canyon, leaped against the inside of
the door and went into a frenzy of howling and barking. I was
panic-stricken, and my nerve broke. I began to scream. Ranger Winess had
slept all through my knocking, but with the first scream he developed a
nightmare. He was back in the Philippines surrounded by fighting Moros
and one was just ready to knife him! He turned loose a yell that crowded
my feeble efforts aside. Finally he got organized and came to my rescue.
I told him Rees was dead and gave him the Chief's message.

"All right. I'll get dressed and attend to everything. You better get
back to bed."

I informed him I would not move an inch until I had company back through
the darkness. He then took me home, and went to make arrangements.

I called the Chief and told him Ranger Winess was on the job. Then I
tried to sleep again. Coyotes howled. Rees' dog barked faintly; a
screech owl in a tree near by moaned and complained, and my thoughts
kept going with the sad news to the little home Rees had built for his
family in Utah.

Strange trampling, grinding noises close to the window finally made me
so nervous I just had to investigate. Taking the Chief's "forty-five,"
which was a load in itself, I opened the rear door and crept around the
house. And there was a poor hungry pony that had wandered away from an
Indian camp, and found the straw packed around our water pipes. He was
losing no time packing himself around the straw. I was so relieved I
could have kissed his shaggy nose. I went back to bed and slept
soundly.

[Illustration]

_Chapter VII: A GRAND CANYON CHRISTMAS_

Funny how one can never get over being homesick at Christmas. Days and
weeks and even months can pass by without that yearning for family and
home, but in all the years since I hung my stocking in front of the big
fireplace in the old home I have never learned to face Christmas Eve in
a strange place with any degree of happ