"I never go through this damned hell-hole without gettin' the creeps,"
declared Carter. "An' I've got nerve enough, too, usually. There's
somethin' about the place that suggests the cattle an' men it's
swallowed.
"Do you see that flat section there?" he indicated a spot about a
hundred yards wide and half as long, which looked like hard, baked
earth, black and dead. "That's where that herd I was tellin' you about
went in. The next morning you couldn't see hide nor hair of them.
"It's a fooler for distance, too," he went on, "it's more than a mile
to that little spot of rock, that projectin' up, over there. College
professors have been here, lookin' at it, an' they say the thing is fed
from underground rivers, or springs, or somethin' that they can't even
guess.
"One of them was tellin' Boss Edwards, over on the Cimarron, that that
rock point that you see projectin' up was the peak of a mountain, an'
that this narrow trail we're on is the back of a ridge that used to
stick up high an' mighty above a lot of other things.
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