This was all mighty interesting to Muskwa, and he would have stood for a long time looking down for other things to happen if Thor had not led him on.
After a time the Bighorn Highway began to descend into the valley from the upper end of which Thor had been driven by Langdon's first shots.

They were now six or eight miles north of the timber in which the hunters had made their permanent camp, and headed for the lower tributaries of the Skeena.
Another hour of travel, and the bare shale and gray crags were above them again, and they were on the green slopes.

After the rocks, and the cold winds, and the terrible glare he had seen in the eagle's eyes, the warm and lovely valley into which they were descending lower and lower was a paradise to Muskwa.
It was evident that Thor had something in his mind.

He was not rambling now.

He cut off the ends and the bulges of the slopes.