nt to Bissell's Point the distance seems to be scarcely
more than a stone's throw, yet it is fully half the distance of the
circuitous route by the rim trail.

There are three trails leading into the canon and down to the river,
the Bright Angel, Grand View and Hance trails, which are at intervals
of eight and twelve miles apart. They are equally interesting and
comparatively safe if the trip is made on the back of a trained pony or
burro with a competent guide.

The Hance trail is a loop and is twenty miles long. It is seven miles
down to the river, six miles up the stream and seven miles back to the
rim. It was built single handed by Captain John Hance, who has lived
many years in the canon. The trail is free to pedestrians, but yields
the captain a snug income from horse hire and his own services as guide
for tourists who go over the trail.

Captain Hance is an entertaining raconteur and he spins many
interesting yarns for the amusement, if not the edification, of his
guests. The serious manner in which he relates his stories makes it
sometimes hard to tell whether he is in jest or earnest. His
acknowledged skill in mountaineering, and felicity in romancing has won
for him more than a local reputation and the distinguished title of
Grand Canon Guide and Prevaricator.

He relates how "once upon a time" he pursued a band of mountain sheep
on the rim of the canon. Just as he was about to secure his quarry the
sheep suddenly turned a short corner and disappeared behind some rocks.
Before he realized his danger he found himself on the brink of a
yawning abyss and under such a momentum that he could not turn aside or
stop his horse. Together they went over the cliff in an awful leap.
He expected to meet instant death on the rocks below and braced himself
for the shock. As the fall was greater than usual, being over a mile
deep in a perpendicular line, it required several seconds for the
descending bodies to traverse the intervening space, which gave him a
few moments to think and plan some way of escape. At the critical
moment a happy inspiration seized and saved him. On the instant that
his horse struck the rock and was dashed to pieces, the captain sprang
nimbly from the saddle to his feet unharmed. To prove the truth of his
statement he never misses an opportunity to point out to the tourist
the spot where his horse fell, and shows the white bones of his defunct
steed bleaching in the sun.

At Moran's