hanging around his neck like a limpet. One time, when
the girth slipped, both the saddle and I rode upside down under his
belly. Some time ago I saw a sloth clinging, wrong end to, to the top
bars of his cage. It brought back painful memories of when the saddle
slipped.

When we reached the blue-wall a mighty roaring was audible. Far above, a
torrent of water from some subterranean cavern bursts from the ledge
with such force that the sound carries for miles. This is called Roaring
Springs. Getting up over the blue-wall limestone was arduous. This
limestone formation is difficult to conquer wherever it is found. Almost
straight up, clinging to the horse's mane, we climbed, stopping
frequently to let the panting animals breathe.

As we neared the North Rim, now and then along the trail a wild rose
blossomed, and as we climbed higher we threaded a maze of sweet locust,
fern, and bracken. It was a fairyland. And then the trail topped out at
an elevation of eight thousand feet into the forest primeval. Towering
yellow pines, with feet planted in masses of flowers, pushed toward
heaven. Scattered among the rugged pines were thousands of slender aspen
trees, swaying and quivering, their white trunks giving an artificial
effect to the scene as if the gods had set a stage for some pagan drama.
Ruffed grouse strutted about, challenging the world at large. Our
horses' hoofs scattered a brood and sent them scuttling to cover under
vines and blossoms. Roused from his noonday siesta, a startled deer
bounded away. One doe had her fawn secreted near the trail and she
followed us for some distance to make sure her baby was safe.

As we swung around a curve into an open valley, we came to a decrepit
signpost. And what do you suppose it said? Merely: "Santa Fe R. R. and
El Tovar," while a hand pointed back the way we had come. I wondered how
many travelers had rushed madly around the corner in order to catch the
Santa Fe Limited. But in those days the North Rim seemed to sprout
signs, for soon we overtook this one:

THE JIM OWENS CAMP
GUIDING TOURISTS AND HUNTING PARTIES A SPECIALTY
COUGARS CAUGHT TO ORDER
RATES REASONABLE

Of course the signing of Park lands is contrary to the policies of the
National Park Service, and after White Mountain's inspection trip, these
were promptly removed.

At length we arrived at Jim's camp. Uncle Jim must have caught several
cougars to orde