is just as well that you fell in a soft place."

"A soft place?" shouted Stacy. "If you think so, just take a drop in
there yourself."

"I thought it was the softest thing I ever fell on," grinned Rector,
whereupon the laugh was on Stacy.

There was no more sleep in the camp in the crater of Sunset Peak that
night. Nor was there fire to warm the campers. They walked about
until daylight. That morning they made a breakfast on cold biscuit
and snowballs at the rim of the crater. But as the sun came out they
felt well repaid for all that they had passed through on the previous
night. Such a vista of wonderful peaks as lay before them none of the
Pony Riders ever had gazed upon.

To the west lay the San Francisco Peaks, those ever-present landmarks
of northern Arizona. To the south the boys looked off over a vast area
of forest and hills, while to the east in the foreground were grouped
many superb cinder cones, similar to the one on which they were
standing, though not nearly so high. Lava beds, rugged and barren,
reached out like fingers to the edge of the plateau as if reaching for
the far-away painted desert.

"Where is the Canyon?" asked Tad in a low voice.

"Yonder," said Dad, pointing to the north over an unbroken stretch of
forest. There in the dim distance lay the walls of the Grand Canyon,
the stupendous expanse of the ramparts of the Canyon stretching as far
as the eye could see.