Such is the topography of the mesas west of the Rio Grande, from the Rito until one is beyond, and opposite to San Ildefonso.  They are traversed and cut by deep ravines and canons, which run generally from west to east, emptying their waters after storms into the valley of the river through narrow gaps, or terminating before reaching the stream against a towering wall of volcanic rock.  Ere Shotaye noticed it, the shrubbery had begun to grow thinner, until she noticed in front something like a vacant space, indicating a gap; beyond that gap there was timber again.  This told her that she had reached the brink of the first canon north of the Rito.

In these solitudes game is not by any means so plentiful as might be supposed.  This is particularly the case in the vicinity of Indian settlements.  The merciless methods of communal hunting either exterminate or frighten away most of the larger animals.  Roaming tribes send parties of men, hunters or warriors, long distances away; and these not only slaughter but frighten the deer, the mountain sheep, and the mountain goat, driving them into regions less accessible to man.  The turkey alone, that noble bird, with its dark, iridescent plumage, remains everywhere; and Shotaye had already heard their loud cackling and calling before she entered the high timber.  Several gobblers as well as hens had run away on her approach; at last they rose into the air one after the other, flapping their wings until they settled down on a tall pinon that was visible from where the woman stood.  There were four birds on the tree.  With necks extended and eyelids alternately opening and shutting, they peered down on her, ready to soar away at the least suspicious motion.  Shotaye could not resist glancing at them.  It seemed as if something was creeping up the tree very slowly.  Like a grayish streak, a long body flattened itself against the trunk.  Shotaye grew attentive, and the more so as the suspicious object all at once disappeared below the nethermost branches.  The turkeys themselves were so occupied with the appearance of the woman that they lost thought of everything else.  One of them, a gobbler, braced himself up, his breast bulged out, his head and neck drawn in; then quickly thrusting them forward, sent out a loud cackle.  At this moment the pine-branches were violently tossed about.  With noisy flapping of their wings the hens rose into the air; their companion flapped his wings but once or twice, and disappeared in the tree-top.  For a moment the twigs and branches rustled and rattled; then all was still.  A panther had surprised them and secured one for his breakfast.  A long distance off might be heard the cackling of another gobbler; the forest was full of turkeys.