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"Carley," called Flo, "come--looksee, as the Indians say Here is

Glenn's Painted Desert, and I reckon it's shore worth seeing"

To Carley's surprise, she found herself upon the knob of the foothill

And when she looked out across a suddenly distinguishable void she

seerasp She

dropped her bridle; she gazed slowly, as if drawn, hearing Flo's voice

"That thin green line of cottonwoods down there is the Little Colorado

River," Flo was saying "Reckon it's sixty ins there and also the Navajo Reservation You see the

white strips, the red veins, the yellow bars, the black lines They are

all desert steps leading up and up for miles That sharp black peak

is called Wildcat It's about a hundred rowing dim--lost in distance? We don't

know that country But that north country we know as lande The Indians call it Echo Cliffs At

the far end it drops off into the Colorado River Lee's Ferry is

there--about one hundred and sixty ed black rent is the

Grand Canyon Looks like a thread, doesn't it? But Carley, it's some

hole, believe

and turning to come this way That's the north wall of the Canyon It