We only stopped to quench our thirst in the bubbling
spring, then began the four-mile climb that would put us on top of the
towering cliff. Soon we overtook the party we had seen on the plateau.
Some of the tourists kindly offered us their mules, but mules were too
slow for us, and they were soon far below us. Calls, faint at first,
but growing louder as we advanced, came floating down from above. On
nearing the top our younger brother Ernest, who had come on from
Pittsburg to look after our business, came running down the trail to
greet us. One member of a troupe of moving-picture actors, in cowboy
garb, remarked that we "didn't look like moving-picture explorers";
then little Edith emerged from our studio just below the head of
Bright Angel Trail and came skipping down toward us, but stopped
suddenly when near us, and said smilingly: "Is that my Daddy with all
those whiskers?"
CHAPTER XX
ONE MONTH LATER
Naturally we were very impatient to know just what success we had met
with in our photographic work. Some of the motion pictures had been
printed and returned to us. My brother, who meanwhile had taken his
family to Los Angeles, sent very encouraging reports regarding some of
the films.
Among the Canyon visitors who came down to inspect the results of our
trip were Thomas Moran, the famous artist, with his daughter, Miss
Ruth, whose interest was more than casual. Thomas Moran's name, more
than any other, with the possible exception of Major Powell's, is to
be associated with the Grand Canyon.
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