Then they were
driven over a narrow trail skirting the cliff, 300 feet above the
river. No one, looking from the river, would have imagined that any
trail, over which horses could be driven, existed.

The boys informed us that we were expected at the ranch for dinner,
and would listen to no refusal so up we went, although we would have
to make a second trip that day. The view of the ranch was another of
those wonderful scenic changes which we were to meet with everywhere
in this region. The flat on which we stood was simply a pocket, shut
in by the round-domed mountains, with a pass, or an opening, to the
east side. A small stream ran down a mountain side, spreading over the
rocks, and glistening in the sunlight. This same stream passed the
ranch, and ran on down through the narrow canyon up which we had come.
The ranch itself was refreshing. The buildings were new, some were
under construction; but there was considerable ground under
cultivation. Cattle were scattered up the valley, or dotted the rocky
slopes below the mountains. A wild spot this, on the borderland of the
three states. None but people of fortitude, or even of daring, would
think of taking up a homestead in this secluded spot. The same rumours
of the escaped prisoners had drifted in here. It was Mr. Chew who gave
us the information we have previously quoted concerning the murdered
man. He had found the body in the boat, in front of the post-office.
He further stated that others in the mountains would not hesitate at
anything to drive out those who were trying to improve a homestead as
he was doing, and that it was a common event to find the carcasses of
his own horses or cattle which had been ruthlessly slaughtered. This
was the reason for putting the horses across the river. There they
were safe, for none could approach them save by going past the ranch,
or coming through Lodore Canyon.

Mr. Chew also told us of the Snyders, who had lost their boat in upper
Lodore Canyon, and of how he had given them a horse and provisions to
aid them in reaching the settlements. This did not prevent the elder
Snyder from coming back to trap the next year, much to Mr. Chew's
disgust. He thought one experience should be enough for any man.

While we were talking, a very old, bearded man rode in on a horse. He
was Pat Lynch, the owner of the little ranch by the river. He was a
real old-timer, having been in Brown's Park when Major Powell was
surveying that section of