And these low clouds of smoke resembled those she had seen
before.
"It's a long way off," she added.
So she kept on, now and then gazing at the smoke. As she grew nearer to the
first monument she was surprised, then amazed, at its height and surpassing
size. It was mountain-high--a grand tower--smooth, worn, glistening, yellow
and red. The trail she had followed petered out in a deep wash, and beyond
that she crossed no more trails. The sage had grown meager and the greasewoods
stunted and dead; and cacti appeared on barren places. The grass had not
failed, but it was not rich grass such as the horses and cattle grazed upon
miles back on the slope. The air was hot down here. The breeze was heavy and
smelled of fire, and the sand was blowing here and there. She had a sense of
the bigness, the openness of this valley, and then she realized its wildness
and strangeness. These lonely, isolated monuments made the place different
from any she had visited. They did not seem mere standing rocks. They seemed
to retreat all the time as she approached, and they watched her.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194