When she reached the black rock that looked, from the bottom, like the highest point of the hill, she found that she had not gone much more than two-thirds of the way up, and that the real peak sloped back so that it could not be seen from below at all.
Miss Allen was a persistent young woman.

She kept climbing until she did finally reach the highest point, and could look down into gorges and flats and tiny basins and canyons and upon peaks and ridges and worm-like windings, and patches of timber and patches of grass and patches of barren earth and patches of rocks all jumbled up together--.
Miss Allen gasped from something more than the climb, and sat down upon a rock, stricken with a sudden, overpowering weakness.

"God in heaven!" she whispered, appalled.

"What a place to get lost in!" She sat there a while and stared dejectedly down upon that wild orgy of the earth's upheaval which is the Badlands.

She felt as though it was sheer madness even to think of finding anybody in there.