After a few moments had passed, Dad stirred the fire, then he too strolled off toward the rim.  Tad, fearless, regardless of the peril to himself, was lying flat on his stomach gazing down over the rim, listening to the mysterious voices of the Canyon.

“I don’t want you to be here, boy,” said the guide gently.

Though he had approached silently, without revealing his presence, Tad never moved nor started, the tone was so gentle, and then again the boy’s mind was full of other things.

“Why don’t you want me here, Mr. Nance?” Dad squatted down on the very edge of the rim, both feet banging over, one arm thrown lightly over Tad’s shoulders.

“You might fall.”

“What about yourself?  You might fall, too.  You are in more danger than am I.”

“Dad is not afraid.  The Canyon is his home—–­”

“You mean you live here?”

“The greater part of the year.”

“Where?”

“Some day I will show you.  It is far, far down in my beloved Canyon, where the foot of the white man seldom strays.  Have you heard the strange voices of Dad’s friend?”

“Yes, Dad, I have heard.  I hear them now.”

Both fell silent.  The far away roar of the turbulent waters of the Colorado was borne to their listening ears.  There were other sounds, too, mysterious sounds that came like distant moans, rising and falling, with here and there one that sounded like a sob.

“The spirit of the Canyon is sad to-night,” murmured Dad.

“Why, Dad, that was the wind sighing through the Canyon.”

“Yes, I know, but back of it all there is life, there is the very spirit of life.  I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel it deep down inside of me.  I think you do, too.”

“Yes, Dad, I do.”

“I know you do.  It’s a living thing to me, kid, as it will be to you after you know their voices better and they come to know you.  All those people,” with a sweeping gesture toward the hotel where music and song were heard, “miss it all.  What they see is a great spectacle.  To see the Grand Canyon is to feel it in your heart.  Seeing it in any other way is not seeing it at all.”

“And do you live down there alone?”

“Yes.  Why not?”

“I should think you would long for human companionship.”

“What, with my beloved Canyon to keep me company?  No, I am never lonely,” added Jim Nance simply.  “I shall live and die there—–­I hope, and I’ll be buried down there somewhere There are riches down there too.  Gold---much gold-----”

“Why don’t you go after it-----”

Dad shook his head.

“It would be like robbing a friend.  No, you may take the gold if you can find it, but Dad, never.  See, the moon is up.  Look!”

It was a new scene that Tad gazed upon.  Vishnu Temple, the most wonderful piece of architecture in the Canyon, had turned to molten silver.  This with Newberry Terrace, Solomon’s Throne, Shinto Temple and other lesser ones stood out like some wonderful Oriental city.