With careful assistance, however, I managed to
get him through, but this hard trial, naturally enough, proved too much
and he informed us, pale and trembling, that he could go no farther. I
gathered some wood at the upper throat of the gorge, made a fire for him
and advised him to feel at home and make himself comfortable, hoped he
would enjoy the grand scenery and the songs of the water-ouzels which
haunted the gorge, and assured him that we would return some time in the
night, though it might be late, as we wished to go on through the entire
canyon if possible. We pushed our way through the dense chaparral and
over the earthquake taluses with such speed that we reached the foot of
the upper cataract while we had still an hour or so of daylight for the
return trip. It was long after dark when we reached our adventurous, but
nerve-shaken companion who, of course, was anxious and lonely, not being
accustomed to solitude, however kindly and flowery and full of sweet
bird-song and stream-song. Being tired we simply lay down in restful
comfort on the river bank beside a good fire, instead of trying to
go down the gorge in the dark or climb over its high shoulder to our
blankets and provisions, which we had left in the morning in a tree at
the foot of the gorge.
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