“Tom Chavis came to the box canyon at three yesterday afternoon,” she said firmly.
Passing the mouth of a box canyon I observed the footprints of a man in some old rotten lava formation.
Excuse me, if it should hit into one end of a box canyon while I was coming up the other.
I investigated and discovered that owing to the peculiar formation in the box canyon the footprints were practically imperishable.
As Mackenzie had guessed, the party was winding its way through the box canyon at that time of speaking.
About ten o'clock we climbed down a tremendous gash of a box canyon with precipitous cliffs.
Slim laid it back on the ground and worked slowly toward the mouth of the box canyon.
It is one continuous succession of rapids, eddies and whirlpools all the way, and the much feared box canyon is a fitting finale.
This no doubt is to be attributed in large measure to the protecting influence of the box canyon.
How would you good people like to make up a party to go to box canyon sometime in the near future?