Intensified on that occasion by the reflected light of a gorgeous
sunset, it must have been a most brilliant spectacle.
Two beavers slid into the water when we were close beside them, then
rose to the surface to stare curiously when we had passed. We left
them undisturbed. Some geese decoyed us into an attempt to ambush
them, but they kept always just out of reach of our guns. Wise
fellows, those geese!
A geological fault accompanied by the breaking down of the walls marks
the division between Flaming Gorge and Horseshoe Canyon, which
immediately follows. We nooned here, opposite a deserted cabin. A
trail dropped by easy stages over the slope on the east side; and
fresh tracks showed that sheep had recently been driven down to the
water's edge.
Passing through Horseshoe,--another very short canyon,--we found deep,
placid pools, and sheer, light red walls rising about four hundred
feet on either side, then sloping back steeply to the tree-covered
mountains. In the middle of this canyon Emery was startled out of a
day-dream by a rock falling into the water close beside him, with
never a sound of warning. Years spent in the canyons had accustomed
Emery and me to such occurrences; but Jimmy, unused to great gorges
and towering cliffs, was much impressed by this incident. After all,
it is only the unusual that is terrible. Jimmy was ready enough to
take his chances at dodging bricks hurled by a San Francisco
earthquake, but never got quite used to rocks descending from a source
altogether out of sight.
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