Arizona -- Fiction; Grand Canyon (Ariz.) -- Fiction; Western stories
"Right you are!" exclaimed Forrester. "My oldest brother was in
college with Huntingdon. Says he was a good fellow, a brilliant
student and even then he could make a speech that would break your
heart. His one vice was gambling. He--"
"My father knew Huntingdon!" Diana spoke quickly. "He knew him when he
was a long-legged, red-headed boy of fourteen. My father was his guide
down Bright Angel trail. Dad always said that he never met as
interesting a human being as that boy."
"Queer thing about personal charm," contributed Agnew. "I heard
Huntingdon make one of his great speeches when he was Police
Commissioner. I was just a little kid and he was a big, homely,
red-headed chap, but I remember how my kid heart warmed to him and how
I wished I could get up on the stage and get to know him."
"So he was a gambler, was he?" Curly spoke in a musing voice. "Well,
if he was once, he is now. It's a worse vice than drink."
"How come you say that, Mr. Curly?" demanded Jonas.
"In the meantime," interrupted Enoch, gruffly, "how about my trip down
the Canyon?"
"Well," replied Milton, "if you go at it with your eyes open, I don't
see why you can't try it as far as Grant's Crossing. That's
seventy-five miles west of here. Barring accidents, we should reach
there in a week, cleaning up the survey as we go along. If you live to
reach there, you can either go out or come along, as you wish. But
understand that from the time we leave here till we reach Grant's
Crossing, there's no way out of the Canyon, at least as far as the maps
indicate."
"Say, the placer where I found my nugget is just above Grant's!"
exclaimed Harden. "Why don't you placer fans start on west and we'll
all try to meet there in a week's time. I couldn't tell Field where it
was in a hundred years."
"Suits me!" exclaimed Curly.
"Me too!" echoed Mack.
"Then," said Enoch, "will you take Jonas along as cook, Mack?"
"You bet!" cried Mack.
"Does that suit you, Jonas?" asked Enoch.
"No, boss, it don't suit me. I've gotta go with you. I ain't never
going to live through it, but I'll die praying."
A shout went up of laughter and expostulation, but Jonas, though grim
with terror, was entirely unmoved. Nothing, not even mortal horror of
the Colorado could break his determination never to be separated from
Enoch again. His agitation was so deep and so obvious that Enoch and
Milton finally gave in to him.
"All right!" said Milton. "A daylight start will about suit us all, I
guess. I don't think I can give you much previous instruction, Judge,
that will help you. We'll put Jonas in Harden's boat and you in mine.
You must wear your life preserver all the time that we are on the
water. When we are in the boat, do as I tell you, instantly, and
you'll soon pick up what small technique we have. It's mostly horse
sense and brute strength that we use. No two rapids are alike and the
portages are nearly all difficult beyond words."
"My Gawd!" muttered Jonas.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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