"Wal, hyar's Oak Creek Canyon," called the driver.
Carley, rousing out of her weary preoccupation, opened her eyes to see
that the driver had halted at a turn of the road, where apparently it
descended a fearful declivity.
The very forest-fringed earth seemed to have opened into a deep abyss,
ribbed by red rock walls and choked by steep mats of green timber. The
chasm was a V-shaped split and so deep that looking downward sent at
once a chill and a shudder over Carley. At that point it appeared narrow
and ended in a box. In the other direction, it widened and deepened,
and stretched farther on between tremendous walls of red, and split its
winding floor of green with glimpses of a gleaming creek, bowlder-strewn
and ridged by white rapids. A low mellow roar of rushing waters floated
up to Carley's ears. What a wild, lonely, terrible place! Could Glenn
possibly live down there in that ragged rent in the earth? It frightened
her--the sheer sudden plunge of it from the heights. Far down the gorge
a purple light shone on the forested floor. And on the moment the sun
burst through the clouds and sent a golden blaze down into the depths,
transforming them incalculably. The great cliffs turned gold, the creek
changed to glancing silver, the green of trees vividly freshened, and
in the clefts rays of sunlight burned into the blue shadows. Carley had
never gazed upon a scene like this. Hostile and prejudiced, she yet
felt wrung from her an acknowledgment of beauty and grandeur. But wild,
violent, savage! Not livable! This insulated rift in the crust of the
earth was a gigantic burrow for beasts, perhaps for outlawed men--not
for a civilized person--not for Glenn Kilbourne.
"Don't be scart, ma'am," spoke up the driver. "It's safe if you're
careful. An' I've druv this manys the time."
Carley's heartbeats thumped at her side, rather denying her taunted
assurance of fearlessness. Then the rickety vehicle started down at an
angle that forced her to cling to her seat.