re their food
and water gave out. Many hundreds of feet below them at the bottom of a
sheer precipice flowed the great river. Their leader swooned from thirst
and exhaustion. It seemed certain that death was near. Above them
towered a wall they could not surmount. Just as they were ready to throw
themselves into the river so far below, their leader revived and pleaded
with them to keep going a little longer. He said: "In my dreams I have
seen a beautiful _luminoso angelo_ with sparkling water dripping from
his pinions. He beckons us on, and promises to lead to water." They took
fresh courage and struggled on in desperation, when, lo, at their very
feet flowed a crystal stream of life-giving water. In remembrance of the
vision this stream was called "Bright Angel." Pretty as this legend is,
the bestowal of the name is now officially credited to Major Powell.

After the story ended I crept between my blankets, and as soon as I
became sufficiently inured to the conversation between Chollo and her
sympathizers I fell asleep. But along toward morning some inquisitive
deer came in to share the grain our horses had scattered, and a big
porcupine came home from lodge, quarreling and debating with himself
about something. He stopped near us and chattered angrily about it,
permanently ending our sleep.

After breakfast we followed the trail through more ancient ruins, into a
cottonwood grove and then on to a sandy flat. Sitting low in my saddle,
almost dozing, I revived suddenly at a never-to-be-mistaken B-u-u-z-z-z!
The horses recognized it instantly and froze in their tracks. Sibilant,
wicked, it sounded again, and then a yellow streak slid across the trail
and disappeared under a low bush. We waited, and pretty soon a
coffin-shaped head came up and waved slowly to and fro. The Chief shot
him with his forty-five and the snake twisted and writhed into the
trail, then lay still. A moment later I had the rattles in my hatband
for a souvenir. "Look out for his mate," the Chief said; but we didn't
see it, and a few days later a ranger camping there found it coiled in
his bed, and its rattles joined the ones already in my possession.

On and on climbed the trail, growing steeper at every turn. I could have
walked with a greater degree of comfort, but the Chief said: "Ride!" So
I rode; and I mean just that. I rode every inch of that horse several
times over. What time I wasn't clinging to his tail being dragged up a
precipice, I was