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THE "ROAD OF THE TOURISTS"

it leads us, sometimes near enough to the waters for us to feel the river's spray, sometimes high above the roaring stream. We almost forget the presence of a city above our heads, the wild forbidding nature of the place belying the proximity of the haunts of man. And in this underworld we see no sight of life save the soaring vultures that circle in this narrow crevasse in expectation of a feast,—a feast that in the olden days was only too frequently one of human

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