Arriving at the spot they selected as a camping-ground, they made fires, whose fantastic gleams danced upon the rocky walls, and added a magic splendor to their wondrous tracery. The ghostly grandeur of these unfrequented shades can not be described, but their effect is marvelous. They seem to shadow forth the outline of carving and sculpture, and in the uncertain firelight have all the effect of some old-time temple, whose art and glory will live forever, even when its classic stones are dust. Here I found water for my parched lips, which was more grateful to my weary senses than any natural phenomenon; and sinking on a moss-grown rock, near the trickling rill that sank away in the sand beyond, I found slumber in that strange, fantastic solitude. I was aroused by a whistling sound, and, gathering myself up, looked fearfully around me. Two flaming eyes seemed to pierce the darkness like a sword. I shuddered and held my breath, as a long, lithe serpent wound past me, trailing its shining length through the damp sand, and moving slowly out of sight among the dripping vines. After that I slept no more; and when I saw the struggling light of day pierce the rocky opening above, I gladly hailed the safety of the sunshine, even though it brought sorrow, distress, and toil. When we rose in the morning, they left the cañon by the path they entered, as it seemed to have no other outlet, and then pursued their way. CHAPTER VIII. THE STORM—ARRIVAL AT THE INDIAN VILLAGE—THE OLD CHIEF’S WIFE—SOME KINDNESS SHOWN ME—ATTEND A FEAST. On the 20th of July we had nearly reached the Indian village, when we camped for the night, as usual, when such a locality could be gained, on the bank of a stream of good water. Here was a stream of sparkling, rippling water, fresh from the melting snow of the mountain. It was a warm, still night. Soon the sky began to darken strangely, and great ragged masses of clouds hung low over the surrounding hills. The air grew heavy, relieved occasionally by a deep gust of wind, that died away, to be succeeded by an ominous calm. Then a low, muttering thunder jarred painfully on the ear. My shattered nerves recoiled at the prospect of the coming storm. From a child I had been timid of lightning, and now its forked gleam filled me with dismay in my unsheltered helplessness. The Indians, seeing the approaching tempest, prepared for it by collecting and fastening their horses, and covering their fire-arms and ammunition, and lying flat on the earth themselves. I crouched, too, but could not escape the terrible glare of the lightning, and the roar of the awful thunder grew deafening. [Illustration: THE BUFFALO HUNT] On came the storm with startling velocity, and the dread artillery of heaven boomed overhead, followed closely by blinding flashes of light; and the velocity of the whirlwind seemed to arise in its might, to add desolation to the terrible scene.