tes. His
song was tender and bewitching in its effect, though it was really
simple in construction, being merely nine notes, the first uttered
twice, and the remaining eight in descending chromatic scale.

Now and then the tiny songster disappeared in what looked like a slight
crack in the wall, but instantly reappeared, and resumed his siren
strains. Spellbound I stood, looking and listening; but alas! the hour
was late, the way was long, and others were waiting; I needs must tear
myself away. "To-morrow I will come again," I said, as I turned back.
"To-morrow I shall be here alone, and spend the whole day with the canyon
wren."

Then we retraced our steps of the morning, lingering among the pleasant
groves of cottonwood, oak, and aspen; pausing to admire the cactus
display of gorgeous yellow, with petals widespread, yet so wedded to
their wildness that they resented the touch of a human hand, resisting
their ravisher with needle-like barbs, and then sullenly drawing
together their satin petals and refusing to open them more; past great
thickets of wild roses, higher than our heads and fragrant as the
morning; beside close-growing bushes, where hid the

"Golden cradle of the moccasin flower,"

and the too clever yellow-breasted chat had mocked and defied me; and so
home to the camp.

At an early hour the next morning, the carriage of my hostess set me
down at the entrance of Cheyenne Canyon proper, with the impedimenta
necessary for a day's isolation from civilization. I passed through the
gate,--for even this grand work of nature is claimed as private
property; but, happily, through good sense or indifference,
"improvements" have not been attempted, and one forgets the gate and the
gate-keeper as soon as they are passed.

Entering at that unnatural hour, and alone, leaving the last human being
behind,--staring in astonishment, by the way, at my unprecedented
proceeding,--I began to realize, as I walked up the narrow path, that
the whole grand canyon, winding perhaps a mile into the heart of this
most beautiful of the Rocky Mountains, was mine alone for three hours.
Indeed, when the time arrived for tourists to appear, so little did I
concern myself with them that they might have been a procession of
spectres passing by; so, in effect, the canyon was my solitary possession
for nine blissful hours.

The delights of that perfect day cannot be put into words. Strolling up
the path, filled with an inexpressible s