We could have spent days wandering around among the fallen giants, each
one disclosing new beauties in color and formation; but we finally left,
reluctantly, each determined to come back again.

It was quite dark when we reached the Canyon, and I was glad to creep
into bed. My kitten snuggled down close to the pillow and sang sleepy
songs, but I couldn't seem to get to sleep. Only cheesecloth nailed over
the windows stood between me and all sorts of animals I imagined prowled
the surrounding forest. The cheesecloth couldn't keep the noises out,
and the cry that I heard might just as well have been the killing scream
of a cougar as a bed-time story of a tree frog. It made my heart beat
just as fast. And although the rangers declared I never heard more than
one coyote at a time, I knew that at least twenty howling voices swelled
the chorus.

While I was trying to persuade myself that the noise I heard was just a
pack rat, a puffing, blowing sound at the window took me tremblingly out
to investigate. I knew some ferocious animal was about to devour me! But
my precious flowers were the attraction. A great, gaunt cow had taken
the last delectable bite from my pansy bed and was sticking out a greedy
tongue to lap in the snapdragons. Throwing on my bathrobe, I grabbed the
broom and attacked the invader. I whacked it fore and aft! I played a
tune on its lank ribs! Taken completely by surprise, it hightailed
clumsily up through the pines, with me and my trusty broom lending
encouragement. When morning came, showing the havoc wrought on my
despoiled posies, I was ready to weep.

Ranger Winess joined me on my way to breakfast.