The Call of the Canyon (Chapter 2, page 1 of 24)


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Chapter 2

Carley, clutching her support, with abated breath and prickling skin,
gazed in fascinated suspense over the rim of the gorge. Sometimes the
wheels on that side of the vehicle passed within a few inches of the
edge. The brakes squeaked, the wheels slid; and she could hear the
scrape of the iron-shod hoofs of the horses as they held back stiff
legged, obedient to the wary call of the driver.

The first hundred yards of that steep road cut out of the cliff appeared
to be the worst. It began to widen, with descents less precipitous. Tips
of trees rose level with her gaze, obstructing sight of the blue depths.
Then brush appeared on each side of the road. Gradually Carley's strain
relaxed, and also the muscular contraction by which she had braced
herself in the seat. The horses began to trot again. The wheels rattled.
The road wound around abrupt corners, and soon the green and red wall of
the opposite side of the canyon loomed close. Low roar of running water
rose to Carley's ears. When at length she looked out instead of down she
could see nothing but a mass of green foliage crossed by tree trunks
and branches of brown and gray. Then the vehicle bowled under dark
cool shade, into a tunnel with mossy wet cliff on one side, and
close-standing trees on the other.

"Reckon we're all right now, onless we meet somebody comin' up,"
declared the driver.

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