The Call Of The Canyon by Zane Grey (most inspirational books .txt) 📕

At The Point Where She Tried To Assign To Her Love The Growing Fullness Of

Her Life. This,  Too,  Splendid And All-Pervading As It Was,  She Had To

Reject. Some Exceedingly Illusive And Vital Significance Of Life Had

Insidiously Come To Carley.

One Afternoon,  With The Sky Full Of White And Black Rolling Clouds And A

Cold Wind Sweeping Through The Cedars,  She Halted To Rest And Escape The

Chilling Gale For A While. In A Sunny Place,  Under The Lee Of A Gravel

Bank,  She Sought Refuge. It Was Warm Here Because Of The Reflected Sunlight

And The Absence Of Wind. The Sand At The Bottom Of The Bank Held A Heat

That Felt Good To Her Cold Hands. All About Her And Over Her Swept The Keen

Wind,  Rustling The Sage,  Seeping The Sand,  Swishing The Cedars,  But She Was

Out Of It,  Protected And Insulated. The Sky Above Showed Blue Between The

Threatening Clouds. There Were No Birds Or Living Creatures In Sight.

Certainly The Place Had Little Of Color Or Beauty Or Grace,  Nor Could She

See Beyond A Few Rods. Lying There,  Without Any Particular Reason That She

Was Conscious Of,  She Suddenly Felt Shot Through And Through With

Exhilaration.

Another Day,  The Warmest Of The Spring So Far,  She Rode A Navajo Mustang

She Had Recently Bought From A Passing Trader; And At The Farthest End Of

Her Section,  In Rough Wooded And Ridged Ground She Had Not Explored,  She

Found A Canyon With Red Walls And Pine Trees And Gleaming Streamlet And

Glades Of Grass And Jumbles Of Rock. It Was A Miniature Canyon,  To Be

Sure,  Only A Quarter Of A Mile Long,  And As Deep As The Height Of A Lofty

Pine,  And So Narrow That It Seemed Only The Width Of A Lane,  But It Had All

The Features Of Oak Creek Canyon,  And So Sufficed For The Exultant Joy Of

Possession. She Explored It. The Willow Brakes And Oak Thickets Harbored

Rabbits And Birds. She Saw The White Flags Of Deer Running Away Down The

Open. Up At The Head Where The Canyon Boxed She Flushed A Flock Of Wild

Turkeys. They Ran Like Ostriches And Flew Like Great Brown Chickens. In A

Cavern Carley Found The Den Of A Bear,  And In Another Place The Bleached

Bones Of A Steer.

She Lingered Here In The Shaded Depths With A Feeling As If She Were Indeed

Lost To The World. These Big Brown And Seamy-Barked Pines With Their

Spreading Gnarled Arms And Webs Of Green Needles Belonged To Her,  As Also

The Tiny Brook,  The Blue Bells Smiling Out Of The Ferns,  The Single Stalk

Of Mescal On A Rocky Ledge.

Never Had Sun And Earth,  Tree And Rock,  Seemed A Part Of Her Being Until

Then. She Would Become A Sun-Worshiper And A Lover Of The Earth. That

Canyon Had Opened There To Sky And Light For Millions Of Years; And

Doubtless It Had Harbored Sheep Herders,  Indians,  Cliff Dwellers,

Barbarians. She Was A Woman With White Skin And A Cultivated Mind,  But The

Affinity For Them Existed In Her. She Felt It,  And That An Understanding Of

It Would Be Good For Body And Soul.

Another Day She Found A Little Grove Of Jack Pines Growing On A Flat Mesa-

Like Bluff,  The Highest Point On Her Land. The Trees Were Small And Close

Together,  Mingling Their Green Needles Overhead And Their Discarded Brown

Ones On The Ground. From Here Carley Could See Afar To All Points Of The

Compass--The Slow Green Descent To The South And The Climb To The

Black-Timbered Distance; The Ridged And Canyoned Country To The West,  Red

Vents Choked With Green And Rimmed With Gray; To The North The Grand

Upflung Mountain Kingdom Crowned With Snow; And To The East The Vastness Of

Illimitable Space,  The Openness And Wildness,  The Chased And Beaten Mosaic

Of Colored Sands And Rocks.

Again And Again She Visited This Lookout And Came To Love Its Isolation,

Its Command Of Wondrous Prospects,  Its Power Of Suggestion To Her Thoughts.

She Became A Creative Being,  In Harmony With The Live Things Around Her.

The Great Life-Dispensing Sun Poured Its Rays Down Upon Her,  As If To Ripen

Her; And The Earth Seemed Warm,  Motherly,  Immense With Its All-Embracing

Arms. She No Longer Plucked The Bluebells To Press To Her Face,  But Leaned

To Them. Every Blade Of Gramma Grass,  With Its Shining Bronze-Tufted Seed

Head,  Had Significance For Her. The Scents Of The Desert Began To Have

Meaning For Her. She Sensed Within Her The Working Of A Great Leveling

Process Through Which Supreme Happiness Would Come.

June! The Rich,  Thick,  Amber Light,  Like A Transparent Reflection From

Some Intense Golden Medium,  Seemed To Float In The Warm Air. The Sky Became

An Azure Blue. In The Still Noontides,  When The Bees Hummed Drowsily And

The Flies Buzzed,  Vast Creamy-White Columnar Clouds Rolled Up From The

Horizon,  Like Colossal Ships With Bulging Sails. And Summer With Its Rush

Of Growing Things Was At Hand.

Carley Rode Afar,  Seeking In Strange Places The Secret That Eluded Her.

Only A Few Days Now Until She Would Ride Down To Oak Creek Canyon! There

Was A Low,  Singing Melody Of Wind In The Cedars. The Earth Became Too

Beautiful In Her Magnified Sight. A Great Truth Was Dawning Upon Her--That

The Sacrifice Of What She Had Held As Necessary To The Enjoyment Of Life--

That The Strain Of Conflict,  The Labor Of Hands,  The Forcing Of Weary Body,

The Enduring Of Pain,  The Contact With The Earth--Had Served Somehow To

Rejuvenate Her Blood,  Quicken Her Pulse,  Intensify Her Sensorial Faculties,

Thrill Her Very Soul,  Lead Her Into The Realm Of Enchantment.

One Afternoon A Dull,  Lead-Black-Colored Cinder Knoll Tempted Her To

Explore Its Bare Heights. She Rode Up Until Her Mustang Sank To His Knees

And Could Climb No Farther. From There She Essayed The Ascent On Foot. It

Took Labor. But At Last She Gained The Summit,  Burning,  Sweating,  Panting.

The Cinder Hill Was An Extinct Crater Of A Volcano. In The Center Of It Lay

A Deep Bowl,  Wondrously Symmetrical,  And Of A Dark Lusterless Hue. Not A

Blade Of Grass Was There,  Nor A Plant. Carley Conceived A Desire To Go To

The Bottom Of This Pit. She Tried The Cinders Of The Edge Of The Slope.

They Had The Same Consistency As Those Of The Ascent She Had Overcome. But

Here There Was A Steeper Incline. A Tingling Rush Of Daring Seemed To Drive

Her Over The Rounded Rim,  And,  Once Started Down,  It Was As If She Wore

Seven-League Boots. Fear Left Her. Only An Exhilarating Emotion Consumed

Her. If There Were Danger,  It Mattered Not. She Strode Down With Giant

Steps,  She Plunged,  She Started Avalanches To Ride Them Until They Stopped,

She Leaped,  And Lastly She Fell,  To Roll Over The Soft Cinders To The Pit.

There She Lay. It Seemed A Comfortable Resting Place. The Pit Was Scarcely

Six Feet Across. She Gazed Upward And Was Astounded. How Steep Was The

Rounded Slope On All Sides! There Were No Sides; It Was A Circle. She

Looked Up At A Round Lake Of Deep Translucent Sky. Such Depth Of Blue,  Such

Exquisite Rare Color! Carley Imagined She Could Gaze Through It To The

Infinite Beyond.

She Closed Her Eyes And Rested. Soon The Laboring Of Heart And Breath

Calmed To Normal,  So That She Could Not Hear Them. Then She Lay Perfectly

Motionless. With Eyes Shut She Seemed Still To Look,  And What She Saw Was

The Sunlight Through The Blood And Flesh Of Her Eyelids. It Was Red,  As

Rare A Hue As The Blue Of Sky. So Piercing Did It Grow That She Had To

Shade Her Eyes With Her Arm.

Again The Strange,  Rapt Glow Suffused Her Body. Never In All Her Life Had

She Been So Absolutely Alone. She Might As Well Have Been In Her Grave. She

Might Have Been Dead To All Earthy Things And Reveling In Spirit In The

Glory Of The Physical That Had Escaped Her In Life. And She Abandoned

Herself To This Influence.

She Loved These Dry,  Dusty Cinders; She Loved The Crater Here Hidden From

All Save Birds; She Loved The Desert,  The Earth--Above All,  The Sun. She

Was A Product Of The Earth--A Creation Of The Sun. She Had Been An

Infinitesimal Atom Of Inert Something That Had Quickened To Life Under The

Blazing Magic Of The Sun. Soon Her Spirit Would Abandon Her Body And Go On,

While Her Flesh And Bone Returned To Dust. This Frame Of Hers,  That Carried

The Divine Spark,  Belonged To The Earth. She Had Only Been Ignorant,

Mindless,  Feelingless,  Absorbed In The Seeking Of Gain,  Blind To The Truth.

She Had To Give. She Had Been Created A Woman; She Belonged To Nature; She

Was Nothing Save A Mother Of The Future. She Had Loved Neither Glenn

Kilbourne Nor Life Itself. False Education,  False Standards,  False

Environment Had Developed Her Into A Woman Who Imagined She Must Feed Her

Body On The Milk And Honey Of Indulgence.

She Was Abased Now--Woman As Animal,  Though Saved And Uplifted By Her Power

Of Immortality. Transcendental Was Her Female Power To Link Life With The

Future. The Power Of The Plant Seed,  The Power Of The Earth,  The Heat Of

The Sun,  The Inscrutable Creation-Spirit Of Nature,  Almost The Divinity Of

God--These Were All Hers Because She Was A Woman. That Was The Great

Secret,  Aloof So Long. That Was What Had Been Wrong With Life--The Woman

Blind To Her Meaning,  Her Power,  Her Mastery.