The clatter of hoofs, the clashing of horns, the bellowing, the rumble
of the wagons over the rocks and the ring of iron-shod hoofs, created a
bedlam of sound, which echoed and re-echoed from the towering walls
until the uproar was deafening.
Shorty, the tawny-haired giant, was riding close to Lawler.
He never had ridden the trail, though he had heard of it. He leaned over
and shouted to Lawler:
"Kinney's canon, ain't it?"
Lawler nodded.
"Well," shouted Shorty; "it's a lulu, ain't it?"
For a short time the trail led downward. Then there came a level
stretch, smooth, damp. The day was hours old, and the sun was directly
overhead. But down in the depths of the canon it was cool; and a strong
wind blew into the faces of the men.
The herd was perhaps an hour passing through the canon; and when Lawler
and Shorty, riding side by side, emerged from the cool gloom, they saw
the cattle descending a shallow gorge, going toward a wide slope which
dipped into a basin of mammoth size.
Lawler knew the place; he had ridden this trail many times in the years
before the coming of the railroad; and when he reached the crest of the
slope and looked out into the hazy, slumbering distance, he was not
surprised, though his eyes quickened with appreciation for its beauty.
Thirty miles of virgin land lay before him, basking in the white
sunlight--a green-brown bowl through which flowed a river that shimmered
like silver. The dark bases of mountains loomed above the basin at the
eastern edge--a serrated range with lofty peaks that glowed white in the
blue of the sky. South and north were other mountains--somber, purple
giants with pine-clad slopes and gleaming peaks--majestic, immutable.
Looking down from where he sat on Red King, Lawler could see the head of
the herd far down the ever-broadening trail. The leaders were so far
away that they seemed to be mere dots--black dots moving in an emerald
lake.
The cattle, too, had glimpsed the alluring green that spread before
them; and at a little distance from Lawler and several of the other men
they were running, eager for the descent.
"She's a whopper, ain't she?" said Shorty's voice at Lawler's side.
"I've seen a heap of this man's country, but never nothin' like that. I
reckon if the Lord had spread her out a little mite further she'd have
took in mighty near the whole earth. It's mighty plain he wasn't
skimpin' things none, anyway, when he made this here little hollow."
He grinned as he rode, and then waved a sarcastic hand toward the
cattle.
"Look at 'em runnin'! You'd think, havin' projected around this here
country for a year or so, they'd be better judges. They're thinkin'
they'll be buryin' their mugs in that right pretty grass in about
fifteen seconds, judgin' from the way they're hittin' the breeze toward
it. An' it'll take them half a day to get down there."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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