Below, in the deeper reaches, the fog rolls and tosses as if sleeping uneasily in its rocky bed. Great detached masses of rock that the eye had not been able to discern before are now made clear, the white fog behind them revealing their outlines in startling clearness. Indeed a fog may be called "the great revealer of the inner mysteries of the Canyon." It certainly shows forth more of the separating walls and canyons, and the detached buttes, than the most observant can discover in a month, without its presence.
Clouds and Rain. There are times, in August and September, when rain is to be expected, that the whole heavens are patched over with clouds. The sun shines on and through them, and the atmosphere becomes murky and sultry to unpleasantness. Then, suddenly, there is a change in the temperature of the upper air, the moisture is condensed, and refreshing rain falls to cool and cheer the earth that before was parched and thirsty.
A Battle Royal. One morning I watched a battle of the clouds over the Canyon. The wind had been blowing hard all night. About five o'clock Iarose, attracted to the rim of the Canyon by a great black cloud that seemed banked up and resting on the north rim, covering, as with a blanket of blackest smoke, the long, visible stretch of the Kaibab Plateau. By and by the sun shot piercing beams of golden glory underneath the cloud, yet, strong and powerful though they were, they could not penetrate the cloud itself. There was the great wall of the Canyon; fierce, fiery, crimson-golden rays shooting in thin streaks above, banked over and pressed down upon by a towering mass of angry clouds. The wind blew strongly and fiercely from the east, bringing fleecy-edged clouds with it. Down in the Canyon the effects were wonderful. The walls reflected the anger of the clouds, and the fire of the sun. Here and there a wall, a tower, or a pinnacle would be lit up with a golden glory, but all around was smoky and forbidding. It even seemed as if a grayish black smoke was ascending from the depths beneath, through which the sun--invisible behind the cloud above--shot lancelike beams, which silvered the smoke and made it a little more gray. On the far western walls, rich purples and reds appeared. Then, suddenly, a soft and fleecy cloud appeared in the clear blue of the morning sky, floating towards me. It was awe-inspiring and yet startling, for it came like a giant battleship, resistlessly and silently shouldering its way along. Entranced I watched it, almost inclined to run, so as to give it free course, for it was low down and apparently very near, and moving with more than ordinary speed. Suddenly another cloud appeared, travelling after the first. As it came, the earlier one veered to the north, and began to cross the Canyon, losing some of its serenity and calmness of manner as it did so; for now, either as the result of conflict from within, or silent influence from without, it began to writhe and change its shape. Ugly angles were thrust out from its hitherto smooth sides, and sent waving and tossing aloft. While this was occurring, the second cloud veered, and when I gazed again, after withdrawing my attention for a few moments, the two were one, the subtle yet powerful forces in the air having wedded them.
