“Bones，maybe，ortheruinsoftheirtown，orpottery，orsomeoftheiridols。Theremightbe’mostanythingupthere。Anyhow，Iwanttosee。“
　　“Surenobodyelsehasbeenupthere，Tip？“Arthurasked。
　　“Deadsure。Hardlyanybodyevergoesdownthere。Somehunterstriedtocutstepsintherockonce，buttheydidn’tgethigherthanamancanreach。TheBluff’sallredgranite，andUncleBillthinksit’sabouldertheglaciersleft。It’saqueerplace，anyhow。Nothingbutcactusanddesertforhundredsofmiles，andyetrightundertheBluffthere’sgoodwaterandplentyofgrass。
　　That’swhythebisonusedtogodownthere。“
　　Suddenlyweheardascreamaboveourfire，andjumpeduptoseeadark，slimbirdfloatingsouthwardfaraboveus——awhoopingcrane，weknewbyhercryandherlongneck。Werantotheedgeoftheisland，hopingwemightseeheralight，butshewaveredsouthwardalongtherivercourseuntilwelosther。TheHasslerboysdeclaredthatbythelookoftheheavensitmustbeaftermidnight，sowethrewmorewoodonourfire，putonourjackets，andcurleddowninthewarmsand。Severalofuspretendedtodoze，butIfancywewerereallythinkingaboutTip’sBluffandtheextinctpeople。Overinthewoodtheringdoveswerecallingmournfullytooneanother，andonceweheardadogbark，faraway。
　　“SomebodygettingintooldTommy’smelonpatch，“Fritzmurmuredsleepily，butnobodyansweredhim。ByandbyPercyspokeoutoftheshadows。
　　“Say，Tip，whenyougodowntherewillyoutakemewithyou？“
　　“Maybe。“
　　“Supposeoneofusbeatsyoudownthere，Tip？“
　　“WhoevergetstotheBlufffirsthasgottopromisetotelltherestofusexactlywhathefinds，“remarkedoneoftheHasslerboys，andtothisweallreadilyassented。
　　Somewhatreassured，Idroppedofftosleep。ImusthavedreamedaboutaracefortheBluff，forIawokeinakindoffearthatotherpeopleweregettingaheadofmeandthatIwaslosingmychance。Isatupinmydampclothesandlookedattheotherboys，wholaytumbledinuneasyattitudesaboutthedeadfire。Itwasstilldark，buttheskywasbluewiththelastwonderfulazureofnight。Thestarsglistenedlikecrystalglobes，andtrembledasiftheyshonethroughadepthofclearwater。EvenasIwatched，theybegantopaleandtheskybrightened。Daycamesuddenly，almostinstantaneously。Iturnedforanotherlookatthebluenight，anditwasgone。Everywherethebirdsbegantocall，andallmanneroflittleinsectsbegantochirpandhopaboutinthewillows。Abreezesprangupfromthewestandbroughttheheavysmellofripenedcorn。Theboysrolledoverandshookthemselves。
　　Westrippedandplungedintotheriverjustasthesuncameupoverthewindybluffs。
　　WhenIcamehometoSandtownatChristmastime，weskatedouttoourislandandtalkedoverthewholeprojectoftheEnchantedBluff，renewingourresolutiontofindit。
　　Althoughthatwastwentyyearsago，noneofushaveeverclimbedtheEnchantedBluff。PercyPoundisastockbrokerinKansasCityandwillgonowherethathisredtouringcarcannotcarryhim。OttoHasslerwentontherailroadandlosthisfootbraking；afterwhichheandFritzsucceededtheirfatherasthetowntailors。
　　Arthursataboutthesleepylittletownallhislife——hediedbeforehewastwenty-five。ThelasttimeIsawhim，whenIwashomeononeofmycollegevacations，hewassittinginasteamerchairunderacottonwoodtreeinthelittleyardbehindoneofthetwoSandtownsaloons。Hewasveryuntidyandhishandwasnotsteady，butwhenherose，unabashed，togreetme，hiseyeswereasclearandwarmasever。WhenIhadtalkedwithhimforanhourandheardhimlaughagain，IwonderedhowitwasthatwhenNaturehadtakensuchpainswithaman，fromhishandstothearchofhislongfoot，shehadeverlosthiminSandtown。HejokedaboutTipSmith’sBluff，anddeclaredhewasgoingdowntherejustassoonastheweathergotcooler；hethoughttheGrandCanyonmightbeworthwhile，too。
　　IwasperfectlysurewhenIlefthimthathewouldnevergetbeyondthehighplankfenceandthecomfortableshadeofthecottonwood。And，indeed，itwasunderthatverytreethathediedonesummermorning。
　　TipSmithstilltalksaboutgoingtoNewMexico。Hemarriedaslatternly，unthriftycountrygirl，hasbeenmuchtiedtoaperambulator，andhasgrownstoopedandgreyfromirregularmealsandbrokensleep。Buttheworstofhisdifficultiesarenowover，andhehas，ashesays，comeintoeasywater。WhenIwaslastinSandtownIwalkedhomewithhimlateonemoonlightnight，afterhehadbalancedhiscashandshutuphisstore。Wetookthelongwayaroundandsatdownontheschoolhousesteps，andbetweenuswequiterevivedtheromanceoftheloneredrockandtheextinctpeople。Tipinsiststhathestillmeanstogodownthere，buthethinksnowhewillwaituntilhisboyBertisoldenoughtogowithhim。Berthasbeenletintothestory，andthinksofnothingbuttheEnchantedBluff。
　　EndTheBohemianGirlThetranscontinentalexpressswungalongthewindingsoftheSandRiverValley，andintherearseatoftheobservationcarayoungmansatgreatlyathisease，notintheleastdiscomfitedbythefiercesunlightwhichbeatinuponhisbrownfaceandneckandstrongback。Therewasalookofrelaxationandofgreatpassivityabouthisbroadshoulders，whichseemedalmosttooheavyuntilhestoodupandsquaredthem。Heworeapaleflannelshirtandabluesilknecktiewithlooseends。Histrouserswerewideandbeltedatthewaist，andhisshortsackcoathungopen。Hisheavyshoeshadseengoodservice。Hisreddish-brownhair，likehisclothes，hadaforeigncut。Hehaddeep-set，darkblueeyesunderheavyreddisheyebrows。Hisfacewaskeptcleanonlybycloseshaving，andeventhesharpestrazorleftaglintofyellowinthesmoothbrownofhisskin。Histeethandthepalmsofhishandswereverywhite。
　　Hishead，whichlookedhardandstubborn，layindolentlyinthegreencushionofthewickerchair，andashelookedoutattheripesummercountryateasing，notunkindlysmileplayedoverhislips。
　　Once，ashebaskedthuscomfortably，aquicklightflashedinhiseves，curiouslydilatingthepupils，andhismouthbecameahard，straightline，graduallyrelaxingintoitsformersmileofratherkindlymockery。Hetoldhimself，apparently，thattherewasnopointingettingexcited；andheseemedamasterhandattakinghiseasewhenhecould。Neitherthesharpwhistleofthelocomotivenorthebrakeman’scalldisturbedhim。Itwasnotuntilafterthetrainhadstoppedthatherose，putonaPanamahat，tookfromtherackasmallvaliseandaflutecase，andsteppeddeliberatelytothestationplatform。Thebaggagewasalreadyunloaded，andthestrangerpresentedacheckforabatteredsole-leathersteamertrunk。
　　“Canyoukeepithereforadayortwo？“heaskedtheagent。“I
　　maysendforit，andImaynot。“
　　“Dependsonwhetheryoulikethecountry，Isuppose？“demandedtheagentinachallengingtone。
　　“Justso。“
　　Theagentshruggedhisshoulders，lookedscornfullyatthesmalltrunk，whichwasmarked“N。E。，“andhandedoutaclaimcheckwithoutfurthercomment。Thestrangerwatchedhimashecaughtoneendofthetrunkanddraggeditintotheexpressroom。Theagent’smannerseemedtoremindhimofsomethingamusing。“Doesn’tseemtobeaverybigplace，“heremarked，lookingabout。
　　“It’sbigenoughforus，“snappedtheagent，ashebangedthetrunkintoacorner。
　　Thatremark，apparently，waswhatNilsEricsonhadwanted。Hechuckledquietlyashetookaleatherstrapfromhispocketandswunghisvalisearoundhisshoulder。ThenhesettledhisPanamasecurelyonhishead，turneduphistrousers，tuckedtheflutecaseunderhisarm，andstartedoffacrossthefields。Hegavethetown，ashewouldhavesaid，awideberth，andcutthroughagreatfencedpasture，emerging，whenherolledunderthebarbedwireatthefarthercorner，uponawhitedustyroadwhichranstraightupfromtherivervalleytothehighprairies，wheretheripewheatstoodyellowandthetinroofsandweathercocksweretwinklinginthefiercesunlight。BythetimeNilshaddonethreemiles，thesunwassinkingandthefarmwagonsontheirwayhomefromtowncamerattlingby，coveringhimwithdustandmakinghimsneeze。
　　Whenoneofthefarmerspulledupandofferedtogivehimalift，heclamberedinwillingly。Thedriverwasathin，grizzledoldmanwithalongleanneckandafoolishsortofbeard，likeagoat’s。
　　“Howfuryegoin’？“heasked，ashecluckedtohishorsesandstartedoff。
　　“DoyougobytheEricsonplace？“
　　“WhichEricson？“Theoldmandrewinhisreinsasifheexpectedtostopagain。
　　“PreacherEricson’s。“
　　“Oh，theOldLadyEricson’s！“HeturnedandlookedatNils。
　　“La，me！Ifyou’regoin’outthereyoumighta’ridoutintheautomobile。That’sapity，now。TheOldLadyEricsonwasintownwithherauto。Youmight’a’hearditsnortin’anywhereaboutthepost-officeerthebutchershop。“
　　“Hassheamotor？“askedthestrangerabsently。
　　“’Deedan’shehas！Sherunsintotowneverynightaboutthistimeforhermailandmeatforsupper。Somefolkssayshe’safraidherautowon’tgetexerciseenough，butIsaythat’sjealousy。“
　　“Aren’tthereanyothermotorsabouthere？“
　　“Oh，yes！wehavefourteeninall。ButnobodyelsegetsaroundliketheOldLadyEricson。She’sout，rainershine，overthewholecounty，chargin’intotownandoutamongstherfarms，an’
　　uptohersons’places。Sureyouain’tgoin’tothewrongplace？“
　　HecranedhisneckandlookedatNils’flutecasewitheagercuriosity。“Theoldwomanain’tgotanypianythatIknowson。
　　Olaf，hehasagrand。Hiswife’smusical:tooklessonsinChicago。“
　　“I’mgoinguptheretomorrow，“saidNilsimperturbably。Hesawthatthedrivertookhimforapianotuner。
　　“Oh，Isee！“Theoldmanscreweduphiseyesmysteriously。Hewasalittledashedbythestranger’snoncommunicativeness，buthesoonbrokeoutagain。