Sight of the deep red-walled and green-floored canyon was a shock to her.
The trail came out on the road that led to Ryan's sheep camp, at a point several miles west of the cabin where Carley had encountered Haze Ruff.

She remembered the curves and stretches, and especially the steep jump-off where the road led down off the rim into the canyon.

Here she dismounted and walked.

From the foot of this descent she knew every rod of the way would be familiar to her, and, womanlike, she wanted to turn away and fly from them.

But she kept on and mounted again at level ground.
The murmur of the creek suddenly assailed her ears--sweet, sad, memorable, strangely powerful to hurt.