Sitting there, my heart beating heavily with excitement, I looked
through the evening glow at the endless, pine-crowned mountain-wall
with its giant's gateway pierced for me! And I thought of all the
explorers and the unknown heroes--trappers, Indians, humble
naturalists, perhaps--who had attempted to scale that sheer barricade
and had died there or failed, beaten back from those eternal cliffs.
Eternal? No! For the Eternal Himself had struck the rock, and it had
sprung asunder, thundering obedience.

In the still evening air the smoke from the fire below mounted in a
straight, slender pillar, like the smoke from those ancient altars
builded before the first blood had been shed on earth.

The evening wind stirred the pines; a tiny spring brook made thin
harmony among the rocks; a murmur came from the quiet camp. It was
William adjuring his mules. In the deepening twilight I descended the
hillock, stepping cautiously among the rocks.

Then, suddenly, as I stood outside the reddening ring of firelight,
far in the depths of the unknown country, far behind the
mountain-wall, a sound grew on the quiet air. William heard it and
turned his face to the mountains. The sound faded to a vibration which
was felt, not heard. Then once more I began to divine a vibration in
the air, gathering in distant volume until it became a sound, lasting
the space of a spoken word, fading to vibration, then silence.

Was it a cry?

I looked at William inquiringly. He had quietly fainted away.