the rim of the distant cañon. At the cañon's brink, he dismounted and
led his horse down the trail, stopping frequently to gaze in wonderment
at the painted cliffs and masses of red rock strewn along the slopes.
High up on the perpendicular face of the cañon walls he saw many caves
and wondered how they came to be there. "Makes a fella feel like
sayin' his prayers," he muttered. "Wisht I knowed one."

He drifted on down the trail, which wound around huge fragments of rock
riven from the cliffs in prehistoric days. He was awed by the
immensity of the chasm and talked continuously to his horse which
shuffled along behind paying careful attention to the footing. Arrived
at the stream the horse drank. Sundown mounted and rode along the
narrow level paralleling the river course. The cañon widened, and
before he realized it he was in a narrow valley carpeted with
bunch-grass and dotted with solitary cypress and infrequent clumps of
pine. He paused to inspect a small mound of rock which was partially
surrounded by a wall of neatly laid stone. Within the semicircular
wall was a hole in the ground--the entrance to a cave. Farther along
he came upon the ruins of a walled square, unmistakably of human
construction. He became interested, and, tying his horse to a
scrub-cedar, began to dig among the loose stones covering the interior
of the square. He discovered a fragment of painted pottery--the
segment of an olla, smooth, dark red, and decorated with a design in
black. He rubbed the earth from the fragment and polished it on his
overalls. He unearthed a larger fragment and found that it matched the
other piece. He was happy. He forgot his surroundings, and scratched
and dug in the ruin until he accumulated quite a little pile of shards,
oddly marked and colored. Eventually he gathered up his spoils and
tied them in his handkerchief.