On a rocky plateau of this painted range stood a town — one street (of adobe shacks, paved with the solid rock, of the mountain. Even the houses were tinted with fantastic colors, where the clay had been mixed with the muck of the silver mines. At the upper end of the street the cliffs arose sheer for several hundred feet, like gaudy drapes of calico: At the lower end was a suc cession of broken ledges, which sloped off to the desert, where the winding trails came in from the rest of the world.
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