where single lonely pine trees grew perilously, and blank walls a thousand
feet across their shadowed faces--these features gradually took shape in
Carley's confused sight, until the colossal mountain front stood up before
her in all its strange, wild, magnificent ruggedness and beauty.

"Arizona! Perhaps this is what he meant," murmured Carley. "I never dreamed
of anything like this. . . . But, oh! it overshadows me--bears me down! I
could never have a moment's peace under it."

It fascinated her. There were inaccessible ledges that haunted her with
their remote fastnesses. How wonderful would it be to get there, rest
there, if that were possible! But only eagles could reach them. There were
places, then, that the desecrating hands of man could not touch. The dark
caves were mystically potent in their vacant staring out at the world
beneath them. The crumbling crags, the toppling ledges, the leaning rocks
all threatened to come thundering down at the breath of wind. How deep and
soft the red color in contrast with the green! How splendid the sheer bold
uplift of gigantic steps! Carley found herself marveling at the forces
that had so rudely, violently, and grandly left this monument to nature.

"Well, old Fifth Avenue gadder!" called a gay voice. "If the back wall of
my yard so halts you--what will you ever do when you see the Painted
Desert, or climb Sunset Peak, or look down into the Grand Canyon?"

"Oh, Glenn, where are you?" cried Carley, gazing everywhere near at hand.
But he was farther away. The clearness of his voice had deceived her.
Presently she espied him a little distance away, across a creek she had not
before noticed.

"Come on," he called. "I want to see you cross the stepping stones."