The Call of the Canyon eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 283 pages of information about The Call of the Canyon.

It led into forest again.  And Carley soon became aware that they had at last left the cut and burned-over district of timberland behind.  A cold wind moaned through the treetops and set the drops of water pattering down upon her.  It lashed her wet face.  Carley closed her eyes and sagged in her seat, mostly oblivious to the passing scenery.  “The girls will never believe this of me,” she soliloquized.  And indeed she was amazed at herself.  Then thought of Glenn strengthened her.  It did not really matter what she suffered on the way to him.  Only she was disgusted at her lack of stamina, and her appalling sensitiveness to discomfort.

“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.


Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin, gazed in fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge.  Sometimes the wheels on that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the edge.  The brakes squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the scrape of the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they held back stiff legged, obedient to the wary call of the driver.

Project Gutenberg
The Call of the Canyon from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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