Upon reaching Cusihuiriachic I found that my Winchester rifle had been left in the stage office in Chihuahua. I sent back word to forward it by next stage to Carichic, but as the next stage did not arrive at that place for four or five days we would have just that much start of it in the mountains, and we therefore at that place engaged a Tarahumari Indian boy to bring it whenever it did arrive. The gun reached Carichic at noon of one day, and early the next forenoon the young Indian appeared on our trail with it, having made the distance in one night and a little over half a day. Of course he must have used many short cuts across the country of which we were ignorant; nevertheless it was quite a feat, for the distance traveled by us was about 110 miles. From Carillo Cajon, where our last camp had been, to the westward and southwestward the scenery steadily becomes grander and more mountainous; until the Grand Barranca of the Urique is reached it fully equals the Grand Cañon of the Colorado at any point on its course. Long before, indeed, on our southward march beautiful vistas break to the right and the left, and especially to the east. About five o'clock one afternoon, just as we were emerging from a dense forest of high pines, and little thinking of seeing stupendous scenery, we suddenly came to the very edge of a cliff fully 1000 feet high, and from which we could look down 4000 to 5000 feet on as grand a scene of massive crags, sculptured rock, and broken barrancas as the eye ever rested on. It was already late in the afternoon, so I determined to remain over a day at this point and devote it to camera and cañon. This camp on the picturesque brink of the Grand Barranca I called Camp Diaz, after Mexico's president.