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"He managed to climb that high. Nobody ever knows how he did it,

but when morning broke there he was, like a fly on a wall. His

hunters came and saw him. I suppose he could hear them laughing

as their voices came echoing up to him. They shot above him,

below him, on either side of him. He knew they were playing with

him, and that they would finish him when they got ready. He must

have been half crazy with fear. Anyhow, he lost his hold and

fell. He was dead before they reached him. From that day this has

been called Mantrap Gulch."

The ranger looked up at the frowning walls which shut out the

sunlight. His imagination pictured the drama--the hunted man's

wild flight up the gulch; his dreadful discovery that it was

closed; his desperate attempt to climb by moonlight the

impossible cliff, and the tragedy that overtook him.