The basalt
rocks came closer, showing plainly through the breaks in the lianas that
grew less thickly on the higher slopes. The creepers fell away slowly,
as if they had done the work they were required to do, and before we
realized it we were walking between two natural walls of rock about
eighteen feet high, above which the sky looked like a strip of blue
paper that rested upon the marvellously even tops of the barriers.
The Professor was gurgling joyfully as we tramped through that miniature
canon. He was bumping up against new wonders at every footstep, and he
stumbled continuously as he endeavoured to jot down his impressions in
the fat notebook. The Professor felt nothing mysterious about the place.
He had the bullet-proof skin of your cold analyst who yearns eternally
for facts.
"Wonderful geological formation!" he chattered. "My friend Professor
Hanlaw of Oakland would enjoy a glimpse of this spot. A geologist could
spend a lifetime here."
Leith's sallow face was disturbed by a grin as he listened to the old
science-crazed ancient disbursing information regarding the formation of
the rock.
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