CANYONS OF THE COLORADO

BY

J. W. POWELL, PH. D. , LL. D. , Formerly Director of the United States Geological Survey. Member of theNational Academy of Sciences, etc. , etc. 

WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS. 

First published 1895

PREFACE. 

On my return from the first exploration of the canyons of the Colorado, I found that our journey had been the theme of much newspaper writing. Astory of disaster had been circulated, with many particulars of hardshipand tragedy, so that it was currently believed throughout the UnitedStates that all the members of the party were lost save one. A goodfriend of mine had gathered a great number of obituary notices, and itwas interesting and rather flattering to me to discover the high esteemin which I had been held by the people of the United States. In mysupposed death I had attained to a glory which I fear my continued lifehas not fully vindicated. 

The exploration was not made for adventure, but purely for scientificpurposes, geographic and geologic, and I had no intention of writing anaccount of it, but only of recording the scientific results. Immediatelyon my return I was interviewed a number of times, and these interviewswere published in the daily press; and here I supposed all interest inthe exploration ended. But in 1874 the editors of Scribner's Monthlyrequested me to publish a popular account of the Colorado exploration inthat journal. To this I acceded and prepared four short articles, whichwere elaborately illustrated from photographs in my possession. 

In the same year--1874--at the instance of Professor Henry of theSmithsonian Institution, I was called before an appropriations committeeof the House of Representatives to explain certain estimates made by theProfessor for funds to continue scientific work which had been inprogress from the date of the original exploration. Mr. Garfield waschairman of the committee, and after listening to my account of theprogress of the geographic and geologic work, he asked me why no historyof the original exploration of the canyons had been published. Iinformed him that I had no interest in that work as an adventure, butwas interested only in the scientific results, and that these resultshad in part been published and in part were in course of publication. Thereupon Mr. Garfield, in a pleasant manner, insisted that the historyof the exploration should be published by the government, and that Imust understand that my scientific work would be continued by additionalappropriations only upon my promise that I would publish an account ofthe exploration. I made the promise, and the task was immediatelyundertaken. 

My daily journal had been kept on long and narrow strips of brown paper, which were gathered into little volumes that were bound in sole leatherin camp as they were completed. After some deliberation I decided topublish this journal, with only such emendations and corrections as itshasty writing in camp necessitated. It chanced that the journal waswritten in the present tense, so that the first account of my tripappeared in that tense. The journal thus published was not a lengthypaper, constituting but a part of a report entitled "Exploration of theColorado River of the West and its Tributaries. Explored in 1869, 1870, 1871, and 1872, under the direction of the Secretary of the SmithsonianInstitution. " The other papers published with it relate to thegeography, geology, and natural history of the country. And here again Isupposed all account of the exploration ended. But from that time untilthe present I have received many letters urging that a popular accountof the exploration and a description of that wonderful land should bepublished by me. This call has been voiced occasionally in the dailypress and sometimes in the magazines, until at last I have concluded topublish a fuller account in popular form. In doing this I have revisedand enlarged the original journal of exploration, and have added severalnew chapters descriptive of the region and of the people who inhabit it. Realizing the difficulty of painting in word colors a land so strange, so wonderful, and so vast in its features, in the weakness of mydescriptive powers I have sought refuge in graphic illustration, and forthis purpose have gathered from the magazines and from variousscientific reports an abundance of material. All of this illustrativematerial originated in my work, but it has already been used elsewhere. 

Many years have passed since the exploration, and those who were boyswith me in the enterprise are--ah, most of them are dead, and the livingare gray with age. Their bronzed, hardy, brave faces come before me asthey appeared in the vigor of life; their lithe but powerful forms seemto move around me; and the memory of the men and their heroic deeds, themen and their generous acts, overwhelms me with a joy that seems almosta grief, for it starts a fountain of tears. I was a maimed man; my rightarm was gone; and these brave men, these good men, never forgot it. Inevery danger my safety was their first care, and in every waking hoursome kind service was rendered me, and they transfigured my misfortuneinto a boon. 

To you--J. C. Sumner, William H. Dunn, W. H. Powell, G. Y. Bradley, O. G. Howland, Seneca Howland, Prank Goodman, W. E. Hawkins, and AndrewHall--my noble and generous companions, dead and alive, I dedicate thisbook. 

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE

I. The Valley of the Colorado

II. Mesas and, Buttes

III. Mountains and Plateaus

IV. Cliffs and Terraces

V. From Green River City to Flaming Gorge

VI. From Flaming Gorge to the Gate of Lodore

VII. The Canyon of Lodore

VIII. From Echo Park to the Mouth of the Uinta River

IX. From the Mouth of the Uinta River to the Junction of the Grand andGreen

X. From the Junction of the Grand and Green to the Mouth of the LittleColorado

XI. From the Little Colorado to the Foot of the Grand Canyon

XII. The Rio Virgen and the Uinkaret Mountains

XIII. Over the River

XIV. To Zuni

XV. The Grand Canyon

Index

CANYONS OF THE COLORADO. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO. 

The Colorado River is formed by the junction of the Grand and Green. 

The Grand River has its source in the Rocky Mountains, five or six mileswest of Long's Peak. A group of little alpine lakes, that receive theirwaters directly from perpetual snowbanks, discharge into a commonreservoir known as Grand Lake, a beautiful sheet of water. Its quietsurface reflects towering cliffs and crags of granite on its easternshore, and stately pines and firs stand on its western margin. 

The Green River heads near Fremont's Peak, in the Wind River Mountains. This river, like the Grand, has its sources in alpine lakes fed byeverlasting snows. Thousands of these little lakes, with deep, cold, emerald waters, are embosomed among the crags of the Rocky Mountains. These streams, born in the cold, gloomy solitudes of the upper mountainregion, have a strange, eventful history as they pass down throughgorges, tumbling in cascades and cataracts, until they reach the hot, arid plains of the Lower Colorado, where the waters that were so clearabove empty as turbid floods into the Gulf of California. 

The mouth of the Colorado is in latitude 31 degrees 53 minutes andlongitude 115 degrees. The source of the Grand River is in latitude 40degrees 17' and longitude 105 degrees 43' approximately. The source ofthe Green River is in latitude 43 degrees 15' and longitude 109 degrees54' approximately. 

The Green River is larger than the Grand and is the upper continuationof the Colorado. Including this river, the whole length of the stream isabout 2, 000 miles. The region of country drained by the Colorado and itstributaries is about 800 miles in length and varies from 300 to 500miles in width, containing about 300, 000 square miles, an area largerthan all the New England and Middle States with Maryland, Virginia andWest Virginia added, or nearly as large as Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, and Missouri combined. 

There are two distinct portions of the basin of the Colorado, a desertportion below and a plateau portion above. The lower third, or desertportion of the basin, is but little above the level of the sea, thoughhere and there ranges of mountains rise to an altitude of from 2, 000 to6, 000 feet. This part of the valley is bounded on the northeast by aline of cliffs, which present a bold, often vertical step, hundreds orthousands of feet to the table-lands above. On the California side avast desert stretches westward, past the head of the Gulf of California, nearly to the shore of the Pacific. Between the desert and the sea anarrow belt of valley, hill, and mountain of wonderful beauty is found. Over this coastal zone there falls a balm distilled from the greatocean, as gentle showers and refreshing dews bathe the land. When rainscome the emerald hills laugh with delight as bourgeoning bloom is spreadin the sunlight. When the rains have ceased all the verdure turns togold. Then slowly the hills are brinded until the rains come again, whenverdure and bloom again peer through the tawny wreck of the last year'sgreenery. North of the Gulf of California the desert is known as"Coahuila Valley, " the most desolate region on the continent. At onetime in the geologic history of this country the Gulf of Californiaextended a long distance farther to the northwest, above the point wherethe Colorado River now enters it; but this stream brought its mud fromthe mountains and the hills above and poured it into the gulf andgradually erected a vast dam across it, until the waters above wereseparated from the waters below; then the Colorado cut a channel intothe lower gulf. The upper waters, being cut off from the sea, graduallyevaporated, and what is known as Coahuila Valley was the bottom of thisancient upper gulf, and thus the land is now below the level of the sea. Between Coahuila Valley and the river there are many low, ashen-graymountains standing in short ranges. The rainfall is so little that noperennial streams are formed. When a great rain comes it washes themountain sides and gathers on its way a deluge of sand, which it spreadsover the plain below, for the streams do not carry the sediment to thesea. So the mountains are washed down and the valleys are filled. On theArizona side of the river desert plains are interrupted by desertmountains. Far to the eastward the country rises until the Sierra Madreare reached in New Mexico, where these mountains divide the waters ofthe Colorado from the Rio Grande del Norte. Here in New Mexico the GilaRiver has its source. Some of its tributaries rise in the mountains tothe south, in the territory belonging to the republic of Mexico, but theGila gathers the greater part of its waters from a great plateau on thenortheast. Its sources are everywhere in pine-clad mountains andplateaus, but all of the affluents quickly descend into the desertvalley below, through which the Gila winds its way westward to theColorado. In times of continued drought the bed of the Gila is dry, butthe region is subject to great and violent storms, and floods roll downfrom the heights with marvelous precipitation, carrying devastation ontheir way. Where the Colorado River forms the boundary betweenCalifornia and Arizona it cuts through a number of volcanic rocks byblack, yawning canyons. Between these canyons the river has a low butrather narrow flood plain, with cottonwood groves scattered here andthere, and a chaparral of mesquite bearing beans and thorns. Fourhundred miles above its mouth and more than two hundred miles above theGila, the Colorado has a second tributary--"Bill Williams' River" it iscalled by excessive courtesy. It is but a muddy creek. Two hundred milesabove this the Rio Virgen joins the Colorado. This river heads in theMarkagunt Plateau and the Pine Valley Mountains of Utah. Its sources are7, 000 or 8, 000 feet above the sea, but from the beautiful course of theupper region it soon drops into a great sandy valley below and becomes ariver of flowing sand. At ordinary stages it is very wide but veryshallow, rippling over the quicksands in tawny waves. On its way it cutsthrough the Beaver Mountains by a weird canyon. On either sidegrease-wood plains stretch far away, interrupted here and there bybad-land hills. 

The region of country lying on either side of the Colorado for sixhundred miles of its course above the gulf, stretching to CoahuilaValley below on the west and to the highlands where the Gila heads onthe east, is one of singular characteristics. The plains and valleys arelow, arid, hot, and naked, and the volcanic mountains scattered here andthere are lone and desolate. During the long months the sun pours itsheat upon the rocks and sands, untempered by clouds above or forestshades beneath. The springs are so few in number that their names arehousehold words in every Indian rancheria and every settler's home; andthere are no brooks, no creeks, and no rivers but the trunk of theColorado and the trunk of the Gila. The few plants are strangers to thedwellers in the temperate zone. On the mountains a few junipers andpinons are found, and cactuses, agave, and yuccas, low, fleshy plantswith bayonets and thorns. The landscape of vegetal life is weird--noforests, no meadows, no green hills, no foliage, but clublike stems ofplants armed with stilettos. Many of the plants bear gorgeous flowers. The birds are few, but often of rich plumage. Hooded rattlesnakes, horned toads, and lizards crawl in the dust and among the rocks. One ofthese lizards, the "Gila monster, " is poisonous. Rarely antelopes areseen, but wolves, rabbits, and sundry ground squirrels abound. 

The desert valley of the Colorado, which has been described as distinctfrom the plateau region above, is the home of many Indian tribes. Awayup at the sources of the Gila, where the pines and cedars stand andwhere creeks and valleys are found, is a part of the Apache land. Thesetribes extend far south into the republic of Mexico. The Apaches areintruders in this country, having at some time, perhaps many centuriesago, migrated from British America. They speak an Athapascan language. The Apaches and Navajos are the American Bedouins. On their way from thefar North they left several colonies in Washington, Oregon, andCalifornia. They came to the country on foot, but since the Spanishinvasion they have become skilled horsemen. They are wily warriors andimplacable enemies, feared by all other tribes. They are hunters, warriors, and priests, these professions not yet being differentiated. The cliffs of the region have many caves, in which these people performtheir religious rites. The Sierra Madre formerly supported abundantgame, and the little Sonora deer was common. Bears and mountain lionswere once found in great numbers, and they put the courage and prowessof the Apaches to a severe test. Huge rattlesnakes are common, and therattlesnake god is one of the deities of the tribes. 

In the valley of the Gila and on its tributaries from the northeast arethe Pimas, Maricopas, and Papagos. They are skilled agriculturists, cultivating lands by irrigation. In the same region many ruined villagesare found. The dwellings of these towns in the valley were built chieflyof grout, and the fragments of the ancient pueblos still remaining havestood through centuries of storm. Other pueblos near the cliffs on thenortheast were built of stone. The people who occupied them cultivatedthe soil by irrigation, and their hydraulic works were on an extensivescale. They built canals scores of miles in length and built reservoirsto store water. They were skilled workers in pottery. From the fibers ofsome of the desert plants they made fabrics with which to clothethemselves, and they cultivated cotton. They were deft artists inpicture-writings, which they etched on the rocks. Many interestingvestiges of their ancient art remain, testifying to their skill assavage artisans. It seems probable that the Pimas, Maricopas, andPapagos are the same people who built the pueblos and constructed theirrigation works; so their traditions state. It is also handed down thatthe pueblos were destroyed in wars with the Apaches. In these groves ofthe flood plain of the Colorado the Mojave and Yuma Indians once hadtheir homes. They caught fish from the river and snared a few rabbits inthe desert, but lived mainly on mesquite beans, the hearts of yuccaplants, and the fruits of the cactus. They also gathered a harvest fromthe river reeds. To some slight extent they cultivated the soil by rudeirrigation and raised corn and squashes. They lived almost naked, forthe climate is warm and dry. Sometimes a year passes without a drop ofrain. Still farther to the north the Chemehuevas lived, partly along theriver and partly in the mountains to the west, where a few springs arefound. They belong to the great Shoshonian family. On the Rio Virgen andin the mountains round about, a confederacy of tribes speaking the Utelanguage and belonging to the Shoshonian family have their homes. Thesepeople built their sheltering homes of boughs and the bast of thejuniper. In such shelters, they lived in winter, but in summer theyerected extensive booths of poles and willows, sometimes large enoughfor the accommodation of a tribe of 100 or 200 persons. A wide gap inculture separates the Pimas, Maricopas, and Papagos from theChemehuevas. The first were among the most advanced tribes found in theUnited States; the last were among the very lowest; they are theoriginal "Digger" Indians, called so by all the other tribes, but thename has gradually spread beyond its original denotation to many tribesof Utah, Nevada, and California. 

The low desert, with its desolate mountains, which has thus beendescribed is plainly separated from the upper region of plateau by theMogollon Escarpment, which, beginning in the Sierra Madre of New Mexico, extends northwestward across the Colorado far into Utah, where it endson the margin of the Great Basin. The rise by this escarpment variesfrom 3, 000 to more than 4, 000 feet. The step from the lowlands to thehighlands which is here called the Mogollon Escarpment is not a simpleline of cliffs, but is a complicated and irregular facade presented tothe southwest. Its different portions have been named by the peopleliving below as distinct mountains, as Shiwits Mountains, MogollonMountains, Pinal Mountains, Sierra Calitro, etc. , but they all rise tothe summit of the same great plateau region. 

The upper region, extending to the headwaters of the Grand and GreenRivers, constitutes the great Plateau Province. These plateaus aredrained by the Colorado River and its tributaries; the eastern andsouthern margin by the Rio Grande and its tributaries, and the westernby streams that flow into the Great Basin and are lost in the Great SaltLake and other bodies of water that have no drainage to the sea. Thegeneral surface of this upper region is from 5, 000 to 8, 000 feet abovesea level, though the channels of the streams are cut much lower. 

This high region, on the east, north, and west, is set with ranges ofsnow-clad mountains attaining an altitude above the sea varying from8, 000 to 14, 000 feet. All winter long snow falls on its mountain-crestedrim, filling the gorges, half burying the forests, and covering thecrags and peaks with a mantle woven by the winds from the waves of thesea. When the summer sun comes this snow melts and tumbles down themountain sides in millions of cascades. A million cascade brooks uniteto form a thousand torrent creeks; a thousand torrent creeks unite toform half a hundred rivers beset with cataracts; half a hundred roaringrivers unite to form the Colorado, which rolls, a mad, turbid stream, into the Gulf of California. 

Consider the action of one of these streams. Its source is in themountains, where the snows fall; its course, through the arid plains. Now, if at the river's flood storms were falling on the plains, itschannel would be cut but little faster than the adjacent country wouldbe washed, and the general level would thus be preserved; but under theconditions here mentioned, the river continually deepens its beds; soall the streams cut deeper and still deeper, until their banks aretowering cliffs of solid rock. These deep, narrow gorges are calledcanyons. 

For more than a thousand miles along its course the Colorado has cut foritself such a canyon; but at some few points where lateral streams joinit the canyon is broken, and these narrow, transverse valleys divide itinto a series of canyons. 

The Virgen, Kanab, Paria, Escalante, Fremont, San Rafael, Price, andUinta on the west, the Grand, White, Yampa, San Juan, and ColoradoChiquito on the east, have also cut for themselves such narrow windinggorges, or deep canyons. Every river entering these has cut anothercanyon; every lateral creek has cut a canyon; every brook runs in acanyon; every rill born of a shower and born again of a shower andliving only during these showers has cut for itself a canyon; so thatthe whole upper portion of the basin of the Colorado is traversed by alabyrinth of these deep gorges. 

Owing to a great variety of geological conditions, these canyons differmuch in general aspect. The Rio Virgen, between Long Valley and theMormon town of Rockville, runs through Parunuweap Canyon, which is oftennot more than 20 or 30 feet in width and is from 600 to 1, 500 feet deep. Away to the north the Yampa empties into the Green by a canyon that Iessayed to cross in the fall of 1868, but was baffled from day to day, and the fourth day had nearly passed before I could find my way down tothe river. But thirty miles above its mouth this canyon ends, and anarrow valley with a flood plain is found. Still farther up the streamthe river comes down through another canyon, and beyond that a narrowvalley is found, and its upper course is now through a canyon and nowthrough a valley. All these canyons are alike changeable in theirtopographic characteristics. 

The longest canyon through which the Colorado runs is that between themouth of the Colorado Chiquito and the Grand Wash, a distance of 217 1/2miles. But this is separated from another above, 65 1/2 miles in length, only by the narrow canyon valley of the Colorado Chiquito. 

All the scenic features of this canyon land are on a giant scale, strange and weird. The streams run at depths almost inaccessible, lashing the rocks which beset their channels, rolling in rapids andplunging in falls, and making a wild music which but adds to the gloomof the solitude. The little valleys nestling along the streams arediversified by bordering willows, clumps of box elder, and small grovesof cottonwood. 

Low mesas, dry, treeless, stretch back from the brink of the canyon, often showing smooth surfaces of naked, solid rock. In some places thecountry rock is composed of marls, and here the surface is a bed ofloose, disintegrated material through which one walks as in a bed ofashes. Often these marls are richly colored and variegated. In otherplaces the country rock is a loose sandstone, the disintegration ofwhich has left broad stretches of drifting sand, white, golden, andvermilion. Where this sandstone is a conglomerate, a paving of pebbleshas been left, --a mosaic of many colors, polished by the drifting sandsand glistening in the sunlight. 

After the canyons, the most remarkable features of the country are thelong lines of cliffs. These are bold escarpments scores or hundreds ofmiles in length, --great geographic steps, often hundreds or thousands offeet in altitude, presenting steep faces of rock, often vertical. Havingclimbed one of these steps, you may descend by a gentle, sometimesimperceptible, slope to the foot of another. They thus present a seriesof terraces, the steps of which are well-defined escarpments of rock. The lateral extension of such a line of cliffs is usually veryirregular; sharp salients are projected on the plains below, and deeprecesses are cut into the terraces above. Intermittent streams comingdown the cliffs have cut many canyons or canyon valleys, by which thetraveler may pass from the plain below to the terrace above. By thesegigantic stairways he may ascend to high plateaus, covered with forestsof pine and fir. 

The region is further diversified by short ranges of eruptive mountains. A vast system of fissures--huge cracks in the rocks to the depthsbelow--extends across the country. From these crevices floods of lavahave poured, covering mesas and table-lands with sheets of black basalt. The expiring energies of these volcanic agencies have piled up hugecinder cones that stand along the fissures, red, brown, and black, nakedof vegetation, and conspicuous landmarks, set as they are in contrast tothe bright, variegated rocks of sedimentary origin. 

These canyon gorges, obstructing cliffs, and desert wastes haveprevented the traveler from penetrating the country, so that until theColorado River Exploring Expedition was organized it was almost unknown. In the early history of the country Spanish adventurers penetrated theregion and told marvelous stories of its wonders. It was also traversedby priests who sought to convert the Indian tribes to Christianity. Inlater days, since the region has been under the control of the UnitedStates, various government expeditions have penetrated the land. Yetenough had been seen in the earlier days to foment rumor, and manywonderful stories were told in the hunter's cabin and the prospector'scamp--stories of parties entering the gorge in boats and being carrieddown with fearful velocity into whirlpools where all were overwhelmed inthe abyss of waters, and stories of underground passages for the greatriver into which boats had passed never to be seen again. It wascurrently believed that the river was lost under the rocks for severalhundred miles. There were other accounts of great falls whose roaringmusic could be heard on the distant mountain summits; and there werestories current of parties wandering on the brink of the canyon andvainly endeavoring to reach the waters below, and perishing with thirstat last in sight of the river which was roaring its mockery into theirdying ears. 

The Indians, too, have woven the mysteries of the canyons into the mythsof their religion. Long ago there was a great and wise chief who mournedthe death of his wife and would not be comforted, until Tavwoats, one ofthe Indian gods, came to him and told him his wife was in a happierland, and offered to take him there that he might see for himself, if, upon his return, he would cease to mourn. The great chief promised. ThenTavwoats made a trail through the mountains that intervene between thatbeautiful land, the balmy region of the great west, and this, the deserthome of the poor Numa. This trail was the canyon gorge of the Colorado. Through it he led him; and when they had returned the deity exacted fromthe chief a promise that he would tell no one of the trail. Then herolled a river into the gorge, a mad, raging stream, that should engulfany that might attempt to enter thereby. 

CHAPTER II. 

MESAS AND BUTTES. 

From the Grand Canyon of the Colorado a great plateau extendssoutheastward through Arizona nearly to the line of New Mexico, wherethis elevated land merges into the Sierra Madre. The general surface ofthis plateau is from 6, 000 to 8, 000 feet above the level of the sea. Itis sharply defined from the lowlands of Arizona by the MogollonEscarpment. On the northeast it gradually falls off into the valley ofthe Little Colorado, and on the north it terminates abruptly in theGrand Canyon. 

Various tributaries of the Gila have their sources in this escarpment, and before entering the desolate valley below they run in beautifulcanyons which they have carved for themselves in the margin of theplateau. Sometimes these canyons are in the sandstones and limestoneswhich constitute the platform of the great elevated region called theSan Francisco Plateau. The escarpment is caused by a fault, the greatblock of the upper side being lifted several thousand feet above thevalley region. Through the fissure lavas poured out, and in many placesthe escarpment is concealed by sheets of lava. The canyons in these lavabeds are often of great interest. 

On the plateau a number of volcanic mountains are found, and blackcinder cones are scattered in profusion. Through the forest lands aremany beautiful prairies and glades that in midsummer are decked withgorgeous wild flowers. The rains of the region give source to fewperennial streams, but intermittent streams have carved deep gorges inthe plateau, so that it is divided into many blocks. The upper surface, although forest-clad and covered with beautiful grasses, is almostdestitute of water. A few springs are found, but they are far apart, andsome of the volcanic craters hold lakelets. The limestone and basalticrocks sometimes hold pools of water; and where the basins are deep thewaters are perennial. Such pools are known as "water pockets. "

This is the great timber region of Arizona. Not many years ago it was avast park for elk, deer, and antelope, and bears and mountain lions wereabundant. This is the last home of the wild turkey in the United States, for they are still found here in great numbers. San Francisco Peak isthe highest of these volcanic mountains, and about it are grouped in anirregular way many volcanic cones, one of which presents some remarkablecharacteristics. A portion of the cone is of bright reddish cinders, while the adjacent rocks are of black basalt. The contrast in thecolors is so great that on viewing the mountain from a distance the redcinders seem to be on fire. From this circumstance the cone has beennamed Sunset Peak. When distant from it ten or twenty miles it is hardto believe that the effect is produced by contrasting colors, for thepeak seems to glow with a light of its own. 

In centuries past the San Francisco Plateau was the home ofpueblo-building tribes, and the ruins of their habitations are widelyscattered over this elevated region. Thousands of little dwellings arefound, usually built of blocks of basalt. In some cases they wereclustered in little towns, and three of these deserve further mention. 

A few miles south of San Francisco Peak there is an intermittent streamknown as Walnut Creek. This stream runs in a deep gorge 600 to 800 feetbelow the general surface. The stream has cut its way through thelimestone and through series of sandstones, and bold walls of rock arepresented on either side. In some places the softer sandstones lyingbetween the harder limestones and sandstones have yielded to weatheringagencies, so that there are caves running along the face of the wall, sometimes for hundreds or thousands of feet, but not very deep. Thesenatural shelves in the rock were utilized by an ancient tribe of Indiansfor their homes. They built stairways to the waters below and to thehunting grounds above, and lived in the caves. They walled the fronts ofthe caves with rock, which they covered with plaster, and divided theminto compartments or rooms; and now many hundreds of these dwellings arefound. Such is the cliff village of Walnut Canyon. In the ruins of thesecliff houses mortars and pestles are found in great profusion, and whenfirst discovered many articles of pottery were found, and still manypotsherds are seen. The people were very skillful in the manufacture ofstone implements, especially spears, knives, and arrows. 

East of San Francisco Peak there is another low volcanic cone, composedof ashes which have been slightly cemented by the processes of time, butwhich can be worked with great ease. On this cone another tribe ofIndians made its village, and for the purpose they sunk shafts into theeasily worked but partially consolidated ashes, and after penetratingfrom the surface three or four feet they enlarged the chambers so as tomake them ten or twelve feet in diameter. In such a chamber they made alittle fireplace, its chimney running up on one side of the wellhole bywhich the chamber was entered. Often they excavated smaller chambersconnected with the larger, so that sometimes two, three, four, or evenfive smaller connecting chambers are grouped about a large central room. The arts of these people resembled those of the people who dwelt inWalnut Canyon. One thing more is worthy of special notice. On the verytop of the cone they cleared off a space for a courtyard, or assemblysquare, and about it they erected booths, and within the square a spaceof ground was prepared with a smooth floor, on which they performed theceremonies of their religion and danced to the gods in prayer andpraise. 

Some twelve or fifteen miles farther east, in another volcanic cone, arough crater is found, surrounded by piles of cinders and angularfragments of lava. In the walls of this crater many caves are found, andhere again a village was established, the caves in the scoria beingutilized as habitations of men. These little caves were fashioned intorooms of more symmetry and convenience than originally found, and theopenings to the caves were walled. Nor did these people neglect thegods, for in this crater town, as in the cinder-cone town, a place ofworship was prepared. 

Many other caves opening into the canyon and craters of this plateauwere utilized in like manner as homes for tribal people, and in one cavefar to the south a fine collection of several hundred pieces of potteryhas been made. 

On the northeast of the San Francisco Plateau is the valley of theLittle Colorado, a tributary of the Colorado River. This river is formedby streams that head chiefly on the San Francisco Plateau, but in parton the Zuni Plateau. The Little Colorado is a marvelous river. Inseasons of great rains it is a broad but shallow torrent of mud; inseasons of drought it dwindles and sometimes entirely disappears alongportions of its course. The upper tributaries usually run in beautifulbox canyons. Then the river flows through a low, desolate, bad-landvalley, and the river of mud is broad but shallow, except in seasons ofgreat floods. But fifty miles or more above the junction of this streamwith the Colorado River proper, it plunges into a canyon with limestonewalls, and steadily this canyon increases in depth, until at the mouthof the stream it has walls more than 4, 000 feet in height. The contrastbetween this canyon portion and the upper valley portion is very great. Above, the river ripples in a broad sheet of mud; below, it plunges withviolence over great cataracts and rapids. Above, the bad lands stretchon either hand. This is the region of the Painted Desert, for the marlsand soft rocks of which the hills are composed are of manycolors--chocolate, red, vermilion, pink, buff, and gray; and the nakedhills are carved in fantastic forms. Passing to the region below, suddenly the channel is narrowed and tumbles down into a deep, solemngorge with towering limestone cliffs. 

All round the margin of the valley of the Little Colorado, on the sidenext to the Zuni Plateau and on the side next to the San FranciscoPlateau, every creek and every brook runs in a beautiful canyon. Thendown in the valley there are stretches of desert covered with sage andgrease wood. Still farther down we come to the bad lands of the PaintedDesert; and scattered through the entire region low mesas or smallerplateaus are everywhere found. 

On the northeast side of the Little Colorado a great mesa countrystretches far to the northward. These mesas are but minor plateaus thatare separated by canyons and canyon valleys, and sometimes by low sageplains. They rise from a few hundred to 2, 000 or 3, 000 feet above thelowlands on which they are founded. The distinction between plateaus andmesas is vague; in fact, in local usage the term mesa is usually appliedto all of these tables which do not carry volcanic mountains. The mesasare carved out of platforms of horizontal or nearly horizontal rocks byperennial or intermittent streams, and as the climate is exceedinglyarid most of the streams flow only during seasons of rain, and for thegreater part of the year they are dry arroyos. Many of the longerchannels are dry for long periods. Some of them are opened only byfloods that come ten or twenty years apart. 

The region is also characterized by many buttes. These are plateaus ormesas of still smaller dimensions in horizontal distance, though theiraltitude may be hundreds or thousands of feet. Like the mesas andplateaus, they sometimes form very conspicuous features of a landscapeand are of marvelous beauty by reason of their sculptured escarpments. Below they are often buttressed on a magnificent scale. Softer beds giverise to a vertical structure of buttresses and columns, while the harderstrata appear in great horizontal lines, suggesting architecturalentablature. Then the strata of which these buttes are composed are ofmany vivid colors; so color and form unite in producing architecturaleffects, and the buttes often appear like Cyclopean temples. 

There is yet one other peculiarity of this landscape deserving mentionhere. Before the present valleys and canyons were carved and the mesaslifted in relief, the region was one of great volcanic activity. Invarious places vents were formed and floods of lava poured in sheetsover the land. Then for a time volcanic action ceased, and rains andrivers carved out the valleys and left the mesas and mountains standing. These same agencies carried away the lava beds that spread over thelands. But wherever there was a lava vent it was filled with moltenmatter, which on cooling was harder than the sandstones and marlsthrough which it penetrated. The chimney to the region of fire below wasthus filled with a black rock which yielded more slowly to thedisintegrating agencies of weather, and so black rocks rise up frommesas on every hand. These are known as volcanic necks, and, being of asomber color, in great contrast with the vividly colored rocks fromwhich they rise and by which they are surrounded, they lend a strangeaspect to the landscape. Besides these necks, there are a few volcanicmountains that tower over all the landscape and gather about themselvesthe clouds of heaven. Mount Taylor, which stands over the divide on thedrainage of the Rio Grande del Norte, is one of the most imposing of thedead volcanoes of this region. Still later eruptions of lava are foundhere and there, and in the present valleys and canyons sheets of blackbasalt are often found. These are known as coulees, and sometimes fromthese coulees cinder cones arise. 

This valley of the Little Colorado is also the site of many ruins, andthe villages or towns found in such profusion were of mueh larger sizethan those on the San Francisco Plateau. Some of the pueblo-buildingpeoples yet remain. The Zuni Indians still occupy their homes, and theyprove to be a most interesting people. They have cultivated the soilfrom time immemorial. They build their houses of stone and line themwith plaster; and they have many interesting arts, being skilled pottersand deft weavers. The seasons are about equally divided between labor, worship, and play. 

A hundred miles to the northwest of the Zuni pueblo are the sevenpueblos of Tusayan: Oraibi, Shumopavi, Shupaulovi, Mashongnavi, Sichumovi, Walpi, and llano. These towns are built on high cliffs. Thepeople speak a language radically different from that of the Zuni, but, with the exception of that of the inhabitants of Hano, closely allied tothat of the Utes. The people of Hano are Tewans, whose ancestors movedfrom the Rio Grande to Tusayan during the great Pueblo revolt againstSpanish authority in 1680-96. 

Between the Little Colorado and the Rio San Juan there is a vast systemof plateaus, mesas, and buttes, volcanic mountains, volcanic cones, andvolcanic cinder cones. Some of the plateaus are forest-clad and haveperennial waters and are gemmed with lakelets. The mesas are sometimestreeless, but are often covered with low, straggling, gnarled cedars andpifions, trees that are intermediate in size between the bushes of sagein the desert and the forest trees of the elevated regions. On thewestern margin of this district the great Navajo Mountain stands, on thebrink of Glen Canyon, and from its summit many of the stupendous gorgesof the Colorado River can be seen. Central in the region stand theCarrizo Mountains, the Lukachukai Mountains, the Tunitcha Mountains, andthe Chusca Mountains, which in fact constitute one system, extendingfrom north to south in the order named. These are really plateauscrowned with volcanic peaks. 

But the district we are now describing, which stretches from the LittleColorado to the San Juan, is best characterized by its canyons. Thewhole region is a labyrinth of gorges. On the west the Navajo Creek andits tributaries run in profound chasms. Farther south the Moencopie withits tributaries is a labyrinth of gorges; and all the streams that runwest into the Colorado, south into the Little Colorado, or north intothe San Juan have carved deep, wild, and romantic gorges. Immediatelywest of the Chusca Plateau the Canyon del Muerta and the Canyon deChelly are especially noticeable. Many of these canyons are carved in ahomogeneous red sandstone, and their walls are often vertical forhundreds of feet. Sometimes the canyons widen into narrow valleys, whichare thus walled by impassable cliffs, except where lateral canyons cuttheir way through the battlements. 

In these mountains, plateaus, mesas, and canyons the Navajo Indians havetheir home. The Navajos are intruders in this country. They belong tothe Athapascan stock of British America and speak an Athapascanlanguage, like the Apaches of the Sierra Madre country. They are astately, athletic, and bold people. While yet this country was a part ofMexico they acquired great herds of horses and flocks of sheep, andlived in opulence compared with many of the other tribes of NorthAmerica. After the acquisition of this territory by the United Statesthey became disaffected by reason of encroaching civilization, and thepetty wars between United States troops and the Navajos were in the maindisastrous to our forces, due in part to the courage, skill, andsuperior numbers of the Navajos and in part to the character of thecountry, which is easily defended, as the routes of travel along thecanyons present excellent opportunities for defense and ambuscade. Butunder the leadership and by the advice of Kit Carson these Indians wereultimately conquered. This wily but brave frontiersman recommended a newmethod of warfare, which was to destroy the herds and flocks of theNavajos; and this course was pursued. Regular troops with volunteersfrom California and New Mexico went into the Navajo country and shotdown their herds of half-wild horses, killed hundreds of thousands ofsheep, cut down their peach orchards which were scattered about thesprings and little streams, destroyed their irrigating works, anddevastated their little patches of corn, squashes, and melons; andentirely neglected the Navajos themselves, who were concealed among therocks of the canyons. Seeing the destruction wrought upon their means oflivelihood, the Navajos at once yielded. More than 8, 000 of themsurrendered at one time, coming in in straggling bands. They were thenremoved far to the east, near to the Texas line, and established on areservation at the Bosque Redondo. Here they engaged in civilizedfarming. A great system of irrigation was developed; but theappropriations necessary for the maintenance of so large a body ofpeople in the course of their passage from savagery to civilizationseemed too great to those responsible for making grants from thenational treasury, and just before 1870 the Navajos were permitted tobreak up their homes at the Bosque Redondo and return to the canyons andcliffs of their ancient land. Millions were spent in conquering themwhere thousands were used to civilize them, so that they were conqueredbut not civilized. Still, they are making good progress, and have oncemore acquired large flocks and herds. It is estimated that they now havemore than a million sheep. Their experience in irrigation at the BosqueRedondo has not been wholly wasted, for they now cultivate the soil bymethods of irrigation greatly improved over those used in the earliertime. Originally they dwelt in hogans, or houses made of poles arrangedwith much skill in conical form, the poles being covered with reeds andthe reeds with earth; now they are copying the dwelling places ofcivilized men. They have also acquired great skill in the manufacture ofsilver ornaments, with which they decorate themselves and the trappingsof their steeds. 

Perhaps the most interesting ruins of America are found in this region. The ancient pueblos found here are of superior structure, but they wereall built by a people whom the Navajos displaced when they migrated fromthe far North. Wherever there is water, near by an ancient ruin may befound; and these ruins are gathered about centers, the centers beinglarger pueblos and the scattered ruins representing single houses. Theancient people lived in villages, or pueblos, but during the growingseason they scattered about by the springs and streams to cultivate thesoil by irrigation, and wherever there was a little farm or gardenpatch, there was built a summer house of stone. When times of war came, especially when they were invaded by the Navajos, these ancient peopleleft their homes in the pueblos and by the streams and constructedtemporary homes in the cliffs and canyon walls. Such cliff ruins areabundant throughout the region, intimately the ancient pueblo peoplessuccumbed to the prowess of the Navajos and were driven out. A partjoined related tribes in the valley of the Bio Grande; others joined theZuni and the people of Tusayan; and stall others pushed on beyond theLittle Colorado to the San Francisco Plateau and far down into thevalley of the Gila. 

Farther to the east, on the border of the region which we havedescribed, beyond the drainage of the Little Colorado and San Juan andwithin the drainage of the Rio Grande, there lies an interesting plateauregion, which forms a part of the Plateau Province and which is worthyof description. This is the great Tewan Plateau, which carries severalgroups of mountains. The western edge of this plateau is known as theNacimiento Mountain, a long north-and-south range of granite, whichpresents a bold facade to the valley of the Puerco on the west. Ascending to the summit of this granite range, there is presented to theeastward a plateau of vast proportions, which stretches far toward SantaFe and is terminated by the canyon of the Rio Grande del Norte. Theeastern flank of this range as it slowly rose was a gentle slope, but asit came up fissures were formed and volcanoes burst forth and poured outtheir floods of lava, and now many extinct volcanoes can be seen. Theplateau was built by these volcanoes--sheets of lava piled on sheets oflava hundreds and even thousands of feet in thickness. But with thefloods of lava came great explosions, like that of Krakatoa, by whichthe heavens were filled with volcanic dust. These explosions came atdifferent times and at different places, but they were of enormousmagnitude, and when the dust fell again from the clouds it piled up inbeds scores and hundreds of feet in thickness. So the Tewan Plateau hasa foundation of red sandstone; upon this are piled sheets of lava andsheets of dust in many alternating layers. It is estimated that therestill remain more than two hundred cubic miles of this dust, nowcompacted into somewhat coherent rocks and interpolated between sheetsof lava. Everywhere this dust-formed rock is exceedingly light. Much ofit has a specific gravity so low that it will float on water. Above thesheets of lava and above the beds of volcanic dust great volcanic conesrise, and the whole upper region is covered with forests interspersedwith beautiful prairies. The plateau itself is intersected with manydeep, narrow canyons, having walls of lava, volcanic dust, or tufa, andred sandstone. It is a beautiful region. The low mesas on every side arealmost treeless and are everywhere deserts, but the great Tewan Plateauis booned with abundant rains, and it is thus a region of forests andmeadows, divided into blocks by deep, precipitous canyons and crownedwith cones that rise to an altitude of from 10, 000 to 12, 000 feet. 

For many centuries the Tewan Plateau, with its canyons below and itsmeadows and forests above, has been the home of tribes of Tewan Indians, who built pueblos, sometimes of the red sandstones in the canyons, butoftener of blocks of tufa, or volcanic dust. This light material can beworked with great ease, and with crude tools of the harder lavas theycut out blocks of the tufa and with them built pueblos two or threestories high. The blocks are usually about twenty inches in length, eight inches in width, and six inches in thickness, though they varysomewhat in size. On the volcanic cones which dominate the country thesepeople built shrines and worshiped their gods with offerings of meal andwater and with prayer symbols made of the plumage of the birds of theair. When the Navajo invasion came, by which kindred tribes weredisplaced from the district farther west, these Tewan Indians left theirpueblos on the plateau and their dwellings by the rivers below in thedepths of the canyon and constructed cavate homes for themselves; thatis, they excavated chambers in the cliffs where these cliffs werecomposed of soft, friable tufa. On the face of the cliff, hundreds offeet high and thousands of feet or even miles in length, they dug outchambers with stone tools, these chambers being little rooms eight orten feet in diameter. Sometimes two or more such chambers connected. Then they constructed stairways in the soft rock, by which their cavatehouses were reached; and in these rock shelters they lived during timesof war. When the Navajo invasion was long past, civilized men as Spanishadventurers entered this country from Mexico, and again the Tewanpeoples left their homes on the mesas and by the canyons to find safetyin the cavate dwellings of the cliffs; and now the archaeologist in thestudy of this country discovers these two periods of construction andoccupation of the cavate dwellings of the Tewan Indians. 

North of the Rio San Juan another vast plateau region is found, stretching to the Grand River. The mountains of this region are the LaPlata Mountains, Bear River Mountains, and San Miguel Mountains on theeast, and the Sierra El Late, the Sierra Abajo, and the Sierra La Sal onthe west, the latter standing near the brink of Cataract Canyon, throughwhich the Colorado flows immediately below the junction of the Grand andGreen. Throughout the region mountains, volcanic cones, volcanic necks, and coulees are found, while the mountains themselves rise to greataltitudes and are forest-clad. Some of the plateaus attain hugeproportions, and between the plateaus labyrinthian mesas are found. Buttes, as stupendous cameos, are scattered everywhere, and the wholeregion is carved with canyons. 

Grand River heads on the back of Long's Peak, in the Front Range of theRocky Mountains of central Colorado. At the foot of the mountain liesGrand Lake, a sheet of emerald water that duplicates the forest standingon its brink. Out of the lake flows Grand River, gathering on its waythe many mountain streams whose waters fill the solitude with perennialmusic--a symphony of cascades. In Middle Park boiling springs issue fromdepths below and gather in pools covered with con-fervae. LeavingMiddle Park the river goes through a great range known as the Gore'sPass Mountains; and still it flows on toward the Colorado, now throughcanyon and now through valley, until the last forty miles of its courseit finds its way through a beautiful gorge known as Grand River Canyon. In its principal course this canyon is a bright red homogeneoussandstone, and the walls are often vertical and of great symmetry. Farther down, its walls are rugged and angular, being composed oflimestones. 

The principal tributaries from the south are the Blue, which heads inMt. Lincoln, and the Gunnison, which heads in the Wasatch Mountains. These streams are also characterized by deep canyons and plateaus, andmesas abound on every hand. Between the Grand River and the White River, farther to the east, the Tavaputs Plateau is found. It begins at thefoot of Gore's Pass Range and extends down between the rivers lastmentioned to the very brink of Green River, which is in fact the upperColorado. Between the Grand River and the foot of this plateau there isa low, narrow valley with mesas and buttes. Then the country suddenlyrises by a stupendous line of cliffs 2, 000 or 3, 000 feet high. Thesecliffs are composed of sand stones, limestones, and shales, of manycolors. The stratification in many places is minute, so that they havebeen called the Book Cliffs. 

From the cliffs many salients are projected into the valleys, and withindeep re-entering angles vast amphitheaters appear. About the projectedsalients many towering buttes, with pinnacles and minarets, are found. The long, narrow plateau is covered with a forest along its summit, and, though it rises abruptly on the south side from Grand River Valley, itdescends more gently toward the White River, and on this slope manycanyons of rare beauty are seen. Plateaus and mesas and canyons andbuttes characterize the region north of White River and stretch out tothe Yampa. The Yampa itself has an important tributary from thenorthwest, known as Snake River. Just below the affluence of the Snakewith the Yampa a strange phenomenon is observed. Right athwart thecourse of the river rises a great dome-shaped mountain, with valleystretches on every side, and through this mountain the river runs, dividing it by a beautiful canyon, through which it flows to itsjunction with the Green. This canyon is in soft, white sandstone, usually with vertical walls varying from 500 to 2, 000 feet in height, and the river flows in a gentle winding way through all this stretch. Tothe east of this plateau region, with its mesas and buttes and itsvolcanic mountains, stand the southern Rocky Mountains, or ParkMountains, a system of north-and-south ranges. These ranges are hugebillows in the crust of the earth out of which mountains have beencarved. The parks of Colorado are great valley basins enclosed by theseranges, and over their surfaces moss agates are scattered. The mountainsare covered with dense forests and are rugged and wild. The higher peaksrise above the timber line and are naked gorges of rocks. In them thePlatte and Arkansas rivers head and flow eastward to join the MissouriRiver. Here also heads the Rio Grande del Norte, which flows southwardinto the Gulf of Mexico, and still to the west head many streams whichpour into the Colorado waters destined for the Gulf of California. Throughout all of this region drained by the Grand, White, and Yamparivers, there are many beautiful parks. The great mountain slopes arestill covered with primeval forests. Springs, brooks, rivers, and lakesabound, and the waters are filled with trout. Not many years ago thehills were covered with game--elk on the mountains, deer on theplateaus, antelope in the valleys, and beavers building their cities onthe streams. The plateaus are covered with low, dwarf oaks and manyshrubs bearing berries, and in the chaparral of this region cinnamonbears are still abundant. 

From time immemorial the region drained by the Grand, White, and Yamparivers has been the home of Ute tribes of the Shoshonean family ofIndians. These people built their shelters of boughs and bark, and tosome extent lived in tents made of the skins of animals. They nevercultivated the soil, but gathered wild seeds and roots and were famoushunters and fishermen. As the region abounds in game, these tribes havealways been well clad in skins and furs. The men wore blouse, loinclothleggins, and moccasins, and the women dressed in short kilts. It iscurious to notice the effect which the contact of civilization has hadupon these women's dress. Even twenty years ago they had lengthenedtheir skirts; and dresses, made of buckskin, fringed with furs, andbeaded with elk teeth, were worn so long that they trailed on theground. Neither men nor women wore any headdress except on festivaloccasions for decoration; then the women wore little basket bonnetsdecorated with feathers, and the men wore headdresses made of the skinsof ducks, geese, eagles, and other large birds. Sometimes they wouldprepare the skin of the head of the elk or deer, or of a bear ormountain lion or wolf, for a headdress. For very cold weather both menand women were provided with togas for their protection. Sometimes themen would have a bearskin or elkskin for a toga; more often they madetheir togas by piecing together the skins of wolves, mountain lions, wolverines, wild cats, beavers, and otters. The women sometimes madetheirs of fawnskins, but rabbitskin robes were far more common. Theserabbitskins were tanned with the fur on, and cut into strips; then cordswere made of the fiber of wild flax or yucca plants, and round thesecords the strips of rabbitskin were rolled, so that they made long ropesof rabbitskin coils with a central cord of vegetal fiber; then thesecoils were woven in parallel strings with cross strands of fiber. Therobe when finished was usually about five or six feet square, and itmade a good toga for a cold day and a warm blanket for the night. 

The Ute Indians, like all the Indians of North America, have a wealth ofmythic stories. The heroes of these stories are the beasts, birds, andreptiles of the region, and the themes of the stories are the doings ofthese mythic beasts--the ancients from whom the present animals havedescended and degenerated. The primeval animals were wonderful beings, as related in the lore of the Utes. They were the creators andcontrollers of all the phenomena of nature known to these simple-mindedpeople. The Utes are zootheists. Each little tribe has its Shaman, ormedicine man, who is historian, priest, and doctor. The lore of thisShaman is composed of mythic tales of ancient animals. The Indians arevery skillful actors, and they represent the parts of beasts orreptiles, wearing masks and imitating the ancient zoic gods. In templeswalled with gloom of night and illumed by torch fires the people gatherabout their Shaman, who tells and acts the stories of creation recordedin their traditional bible. When fever prostrates one of the tribe theShaman gathers the actors about the stricken man, and with weirddancing, wild ululation, and ecstatic exhortation the evil spirit isdriven from the body. Then they have their ceremonies to pray for theforest fruits, for abundant game, for successful hunting, and forprosperity in war. 

CHAPTER III. 

MOUNTAINS AND PLATEAUS. 

Green River has its source in Fremont's Peak, high up in the Wind RiverMountains among glacial lakes and mountain cascades. This is the realsource of the Colorado River, and it stands in strange contrast with themouth of that stream where it pours into the Gulf of California. Thegeneral course of the river is from north to south and from greataltitudes to the level of the sea. Thus it runs "from land of snow toland of sun. " The Wind River Mountains constitute one of the mostimposing ranges of the United States. Fremont's Peak, the culminatingpoint, is 13, 790 feet above the level of the sea. It stands in awilderness of crags. Here at Fremont's Peak three great rivers havetheir sources: Wind River flows eastward into the Mississippi; GreenRiver flows southward into the Colorado; and Gros Ventre River flowsnorthwestward into the Columbia. From this dominating height many rangescan be seen on every hand. About the sources of the Platte and the BigHorn, that flow ultimately into the Gulf of Mexico, great ranges standwith their culminating peaks among the clouds; and the mountains thatextend into Yellowstone Park, the land of geyser wonders, are seen. TheYellowstone Park is at the southern extremity of a great system ofmountain ranges, the northern Rocky Mountains, sometimes called theGeyser Ranges. This geological province extends into British America, but its most wonderful scenery is in the upper Yellowstone basin, wheregeysers bombard the heavens with vapor distilled in subterranean depths. The springs which pour out their boiling waters are loaded with quartz, and the waters of the springs, flowing away over the rocks, slowlydischarge their fluid magma, which crystallizes in beautiful forms andbuilds jeweled basins that hold pellucid waters. 

To the north and west of Fremont's Peak are mountain ranges that givebirth to rivers flowing into the great Columbia. Conspicuous among thesefrom this point of view is the great Teton Range, with its toweringfacade of storm-carved rocks; then the Gros Ventre Mountains, the SnakeRiver Range, the Wyoming Range, and, still beyond the latter, the BearRiver Range, are seen. Far in the distant south, scarcely to bedistinguished from the blue clouds on the horizon, stand the UintaMountains. On every hand are deep mountain gorges where snows accumulateto form glaciers. Below the glaciers throughout the entire Wind RiverRange great numbers of morainal lakes are found. These lakes aregems--deep sapphire waters fringed with emerald zones. From these lakescreeks and rivers flow, by cataracts and rapids, to form the Green. Themountain slopes below are covered with dense forests of pines and firs. The lakes are often fringed with beautiful aspens, and when the autumnwinds come their golden leaves are carried over the landscape in cloudsof resplendent sheen. The creeks descend from the mountains in wildrocky gorges, until they flow out into the valley. On the west side ofthe valley stand the Gros Ventre and the Wyoming mountains, low rangesof peaks, but picturesque in form and forest stretch. Leaving themountain, the river meanders through the Green River Plains, a coldelevated district much like that of northern Norway, except that thehumidity of Norway is replaced by the aridity of Wyoming. South of theplains the Big Sandy joins the Green from the east. South of the BigSandy a long zone of sand-dunes stretches eastward. The western windsblowing up the valley drift these sands from hill to hill, so that thehills themselves are slowly journeying eastward on the wings of aridgales, and sand tempests may be encountered more terrible than storms ofsnow or hail. Here the northern boundary of the Plateau Province isfound, for mesas and high table-lands are found on either side of theriver. 

On the east side of the Green, mesas and plateaus have irregularescarpments with points extending into the valleys, and between thesepoints canyons come down that head in the highlands. Everywhere theescarpments are fringed with outlying buttes. Many portions of theregion are characterized by bad lands. These are hills carved out ofsandstone, shales, and easily disintegrated rocks, which present manyfantastic forms and are highly colored in a great variety of tint andtone, and everywhere they are naked of vegetation. Now and then lowmountains crown the plateaus. Altogether it is a region of desolation. Through the midst of the country, from east to west, flows anintermittent stream known as Bitter Creek. In seasons of rain it carriesfloods; in seasons of drought it disappears in the sands, and its watersare alkaline and often poisonous. Stretches of bad-land desert areinterrupted by other stretches of sage plain, and on the high landsgnarled and picturesque forests of juniper and pinon are found. On thewest side of the river the mesas rise by grassy slopes to the westwardinto high plateaus that are forest-clad, first with juniper and pinon, and still higher with pines and firs. Some of the streams run in canyonsand others have elevated valleys along their courses. On the southborder of this mesa and plateau country are the Bridger Bad Lands, lyingat the foot of the Uinta Mountains. These bad lands are of gray, green, and brown shales that are carved in picturesque forms--domes, towers, pinnacles, and minarets, and bold cliffs with deep alcoves; and all arenaked rock, the sediments of an ancient lake. These lake beds are filledwith fossils, --the preserved bones of fishes, reptiles, and mammals, ofstrange and often gigantic forms, no longer found living on the globe. It is a desert to the agriculturist, a mine to the paleontologist, and aparadise to the artist. 

The region thus described, from Fremont's Peak to the Uinta Mountains, has been the home of tribes of Indians of the Shoshonean family fromtime immemorial. It is a great hunting and fishing region, and thevigorous Shoshones still obtain a part of their livelihood from mesa andplain and river and lake. The flesh of the animals killed in fall andwinter was dried in the arid winds for summer use; the trout aboundingin the streams and lakes were caught at all seasons of the year; and theseeds and fruits of harvest time were gathered and preserved for winteruse. When the seeds were gathered they were winnowed by tossing them intrays so that the winds might carry away the chaff. Then they wereroasted in the same trays. Burning coals and seeds were mixed in thebasket trays and kept in motion by a tossing process which fanned thecoals until the seeds were done; then they were separated from the coalsby dexterous manipulation. Afterwards the seeds were ground onmealing-stones and molded into cakes, often huge loaves, that werestored away for use in time of need. Raspberries, chokecherries, andbuffalo berries are abundant, and these fruits were gathered and mixedwith the bread. Such fruit cakes were great dainties among these people. 

In this Shoshone land the long winter night is dedicated to worship andfestival. About their camp fires scattered in forest glades by brooksand lakes, they assemble to dance and sing in honor of theirgods--wonderful mythic animals, for they hold as divine the ancient ofbears, the eagle of the lost centuries, the rattlesnake of primevaltimes, and a host of other zoic deities. 

The Uinta Range stands across the course of Green River, which finds itsway through it by series of stupendous canyons. The range has aneast-and-west trend. The Wasatch Mountains, a long north-and-southrange, here divide the Plateau Province from what is known amonggeologists as the Basin Range Province, on the west. The latter is thegreat interior basin whose waters run into salt lakes and sinks, therebeing no drainage to the sea. The Great Salt Lake is the most importantof these interior bodies of water. 

The Great Basin, which lies to the west of the Plateau Province, forms apart of the Basin Range Province. In past geological times it was thesite of a vast system of lakes, but the climate has since changed andthe water of most of these lakes has evaporated and the sediments of theold lake beds are now desert sands. The ancient lake shores are oftenrepresented by conspicuous terraces, each one marking a stage in theheight of a dead lake. While these lakes existed the region was one ofgreat volcanic activity and many eruptive mountains were formed. Someburst out beneath the waters; others were piled up on the dry land. 

From the desert valleys below, the Wasatch Mountains rise abruptly andare crowned with craggy peaks. But on the east side of the mountains thedescent to the plateau is comparatively slight. The Uinta Mountains arecarved out of the great plateau which extends more than two hundredmiles to the eastward of the summit of the Wasatch Range. Its mountainpeaks are cameos, its upper valleys are meadows, its higher slopes areforest groves, and its streams run in deep, solemn, and majesticcanyons. The snows never melt from its crowning heights, and an undyinganthem is sung by its falling waters. 

The Owiyukuts Plateau is situated at the northeastern end of the UintaMountains. It is a great integral block of the Uinta system. A beautifulcreek heads in this plateau, near its center, and descends northwardinto the bad lands of Vermilion Creek, to which stream it is tributary. "Once upon a time" this creek, after descending from the plateau, turnedeast and then southward and found its way by a beautiful canyon intoBrown's Park, where it joined the Green; but a great bend of theVermilion, near the foot of the plateau, was gradually enlarged--thestream cutting away its banks--until it encroached upon the littlevalley of the creek born on the Owiyukuts Plateau. This encroachmentcontinued until at last Vermilion Creek stole the Owiyukuts Creek andcarried its waters away by its own channel. Then the canyon channelthrough which Owiyukuts Creek had previously run, no longer having astream to flow through its deep gorge, gathered the waters of brooksflowing along its course into little lakelets, which are connected by arunning stream only through seasons of great rainfall. These lakelets inthe gorge of the dead creek are now favorite resorts of Ute Indians. 

South of the Uinta Mountains is the Uinta River, a stream with manymountain tributaries, some heading in the Uinta Mountains, others in theWasatch Mountains on the west, and still others in the western TavaputsPlateau. 

The Uinta Valley is the ancient and present home of the Uinta Indians, atribe speaking the Uinta language of the Shoshonean family. Theirhabits, customs, institutions, and mythology are essentially the same asthose of the Ute Indians of the Grand River country, already described. In this valley there are also found many ruins of ancientpueblo-building peoples--of what stock is not known. 

The Tavaputs Plateau is one of the stupendous features of this country. On the west it merges into the Wasatch Mountains; on the north itdescends by wooded slopes into the Uinta Valley. Its summit isforest-clad and among the forests are many beautiful parks. On the southit ends in a great escarpment which descends into Castle Valley. Thissouthern escarpment presents one of the most wonderful facades of theworld. It is from 2, 000 to 4, 000 feet high. The descent is not made byone bold step, for it is cut by canyons and cliffs. It is a zone severalmiles in width which is a vast labyrinth of canyons, cliffs, buttes, pinnacles, minarets, and detached rocks of Cyclopean magnitude, thewhole destitute of soil and vegetation, colored in many brilliant tonesand tints, and carved in many weird forms, --a land of desolation, dedicated forever to the geologist and the artist, where civilizationcan find no resting-place. 

Then comes Castle Valley, to describe which is to beggar language andpall imagination. On the north is the Tavaputs; on the west is theWasatch Plateau, which lies to the south of the Wasatch Mountains and ishere the west boundary of the Plateau Province; on the south areindescribable mesas and mountains; on the east is Grand River, a placidstream meandering through a valley of meadows. Within these boundariesthere is a landscape of gigantic rock forms, interrupted here and thereby bad-land hills, dominated with the towering cliffs of Tavaputs, thebold escarpment of the Wasatch Plateau, and the volcanic peaks of theHenry Mountains on the south. It is a vast forest of rock forms, and inits midst is San Rafael Swell, an elevation crowned with still moregigantic rock forms. Among the rocks pools and lakelets are found, andlittle streams run in canyons that seem like chasms cleft to nadir hell. San Rafael River and Fremont River drain this Castle land, heading inthe Wasatch Plateau and flowing into the Grand River. Along thesestreams a few narrow canyon valleys are found, and in them Ute Indiansmake their winter homes. The bad lands are filled with agates, jaspers, and carnelians, which are gathered by the Indians and fashioned intoarrowheads and knives; along the foot of the canyon cliffs workshops canbe discovered that have been occupied by generations from a time in thelong past, and the chips of these workshops pave the valleys. South ofthe Wasatch Plateau we have the Fish Lake Plateau, the Awapa Plateau, and the Aquarius Plateau, which separate the waters flowing into theGreat Basin from the waters of the Colorado, which here constitute theboundary of the Plateau Province. Awapa is a Ute name signifying "Manywaters. "

All three of these plateaus are remarkable for the many lakelets foundon them. To the east are the Henry Mountains, a group of volcanic domesthat rise above the region. The rocks of the country are limestones, sandstones, and shales, originally lying in horizontal altitudes; butvolcanic forces were generated under them and lavas boiled up. Theselavas did not, however, come to the surface, but as they rose theylifted the sandstones, shales, and limestones, to a thickness of 2, 000or 3, 000 feet or more, into great domes. Then the molten lavas cooled ingreat lenses of mountain magnitude, with the sedimentary rocks domedabove them. Then the clouds gathered over these domes and wept, andtheir tears were gathered in brooks, and the brooks carved canyons downthe sides of the domes; and now in these deep clefts the structure ofthe mountains is revealed. The lenses of volcanic rocks by which thedomes were upheaved are known as "laccolites, " _i. E. , _ rock lakes. 

Looking southwestward from the Henry Mountains the Circle Cliffs areseen. A great escarpment, several thousand feet in height and 70 or 80miles in length, faces the mountain. It is the step to the long, narrowplateau. The streams that come down across these cliffs head in greatsymmetric amphitheaters, and when first seen from above they present avast alignment of walled circles. The front of the cliffs, seen frombelow, is everywhere imposing. On the southwest the Escalante Riverholds its course. It heads in the Aquarius Plateau and flows into theColorado. Its course, as well as that of all its many tributaries, is indeep box-canyons of homogeneous red sandstone, often with vertical wallsthat are broken by many beautiful alcoves and glens. Much of the regionis of naked, smooth, red rock, but the alcoves and glens that break thecanyon walls are the sites of perennial springs, about which patches ofluxuriant verdure gather. 

The Kaiparowits Plateau is an elevated table-land on the southwesternside of the Escalante River. It is long and narrow, extending from thenorthwest to the southeast approximately parallel with the Escalante. Itrises above the red sandstone of the Escalante region from 2, 000 to4, 000 feet by a front of storm-carved cliffs. From the southeasternextremity of this plateau, at an altitude of 7, 500 feet, an instructiveview is obtained. One of the great canyons of the Colorado River can beseen meandering its way through the red-rock landscape. In the distance, and to the north, the Henry Mountains are in view, and below, thecanyons of the Escalante and the red-rock land are in sight. Across theColorado are the canyons of the San Juan, and below the mouth of the SanJuan is the great Navajo Mountain. Still to the south the Grand Canyonof the Colorado is in view, and in the west a vast mesa landscape ispresented with its buttes and pinnacles. Still to the southward PariaRiver is seen heading in a plateau on the margin of the province andhaving a course a little east of south into the Colorado. 

The region of country which has been thus described, from the Tava-putsPlateau to the Paria River, was the home of a few scattered Ute Indians, who lived in very small groups, and who hunted on the plateau, fished inthe waters, and dwelt in the canyons. There was nominally but one tribe, but as the members of this tribe were in very small parties andseparated by wide distances the tribal bonds were very weak and oftenunrecognized. The chief integrating agency was religion, for theyworshiped the same gods and periodically joined in the same religiousceremonies and festivals. A country so destitute of animal and vegetallife would not support large numbers, and the few who dwelt here gainedbut a precarious and scant subsistence. To a large extent they lived onseeds and roots. The low, warm canyons furnished admirable shelter forthe people, and their habitual costumes were loincloths, paints, andnecklaces of tiny arrowheads made of the bright-colored agates andcarnelians strung on snakeskins. 

When the Mormon people encroached on this country from the west, andwhen the Navajos on the east surrendered to the United States, a fewrecalcitrant Navajos and the Utes of this region combined. They had longbeen more or less intimately associated, and a jargon speech had grownup by which they could communicate. Finally, the greater number of theseUtes and renegade Navajos took up their homes permanently on the easternbank of the Colorado River between the Grand and the San Juan rivers. The Navajos are the dominant race, yet they live on terms of practicalequality and affiliate without feuds. These are the great Freebooters ofthe Plateau Province--the enemies of other tribes and of the white men. In their canyon fortresses they have been able to hold their ground inspite of their enemies on every hand. 

Throughout the region and the plateaus by which it is surrounded and themountains by which it is interrupted, everywhere ruins of pueblos andmany cliff dwellings are found. None of these ancient pueblos are on alarge scale. The houses were usually one or two stories high and thehamlets rarely provided shelter for more than two dozen people. Some ofthe houses are of rather superior architecture, having well-constructedwalls with good geometric proportions. Their houses were plastered onthe inside, and sometimes on the outside, and covered with flat roofs ofsun-dried mud. The real home of the people in their waking hours was ontheir housetops. 

The rocks of the mountain are etched with many picture-writingsattesting the artistic skill of this people. The predominant form is therattlesnake, which is found in the crevices of the rocks on every hand. It is inferred that the people worshiped the rattlesnake as one of theirchief deities, a god who carried the spirit of death in his mouth. 

CHAPTER IV. 

CLIFFS AND TERRACES. 

There is a great group of table-lands constituting a geographic unitwhich have been named the Terrace Plateaus. They ex-tend from the Pariaand Colorado on the east to the Grand Wash and Pine Mountains on thewest, and they are bounded on the south by the Grand Canyon of theColorado, and on the north they divide the waters of the Colorado fromthe waters of the Sevier, which flows northward and then westward untilit is lost in the sands of the Great Desert. It is an irregular systemof great plateaus with subordinate mesas and buttes separated by linesof cliffs and dissected by canyons. 

In this region all of the features which have been described as found inother portions of the province are grouped except only the cliffs ofvolcanic ashes, the volcanic cones, and the volcanic domes. The volcanicmountains, cinder cones, and coulees, the majestic plateaus andelaborate mesas, the sculptured buttes and canyon gorges, are all foundhere, but on a more stupendous scale. The volcanic mountains are higher, the cinder cones are larger, the coulees are more extensive and areoften sheets of naked, black rock, the plateaus are more lofty, thecliffs are on a grander scale, the canyons are of profounder depth; andthe Grand Canyon of the Colorado, the most stupendous gorge known on theglobe, with a great river surging through it, bounds it on the south. 

The east-and-west cliffs are escarpments of degradation, thenorth-and-south cliffs are, in the main, though not always, escarpmentsof displacement. Let us understand what this means. Over the entireregion limestones, shales, and sandstones were deposited through longperiods of geologic time to the thickness of many thousands of feet;then the country was upheaved and tilted toward the north; but theColorado River was flowing when the tilting commenced, and the upheavalwas very slow, so that the river cleared away the obstruction to itschannel as fast as it was presented, and this is the Grand Canyon. Therocks above were carried away by rains and rivers, but not evenly allover the country; nor by washing out valleys and leaving hills, but bycarving the country into terraces. The upper and later-formed rocks arefound far to the north, their edges standing in cliffs; then stillearlier rocks are found rising to the southward, until they terminate incliffs; and then a third series rises to the southward and ends incliffs, and finally a fourth series, the oldest rocks, terminating inthe Grand Canyon wall, which is a line of cliffs. There are in a generalway four great lines of cliffs extending from east to west across thedistrict and presenting their faces, or escarpments, southward. If thesecliffs are climbed it is found that each plateau or terrace dips gentlyto the northward until it meets with another line of cliffs, which mustbe ascended to reach the summit of another plateau. Place a book beforeyou on a table with its front edge toward you, rest another book on theback of this, place a third on the back of the second, and in likemanner a fourth on the third. Now the leaves of the books dip from youand the cut edges stand in tiny escarpments facing you. So therock-formed leaves of these books of geology have the escarpment edgesturned southward, while each book itself dips northward, and the crestof each plateau book is the summit of a line of cliffs. These cliffs oferosion have been described as running from east to west, but theydiverge from that course in many ways. First, canyons run from north tosouth through them, and where these canyons are found deep angles occur;then sharp salients extend from the cliffs on the backs of the lowerplateaus. Each great escarpment is made up more or less of minorterraces, or steps; and at the foot of each grand escarpment there isalways a great talus, or sloping pile of rocks, and many marvelousbuttes stand in front of the cliffs. 

But these east-and-west cliffs and the plateaus which they form aredivided by north-and-south lines in another manner. The country has beenfaulted along north-and-south lines or planes. These faults are breaksin the strata varying from 1, 000 or 2, 000 to 4, 000 or 5, 000 feet inverticality. On the very eastern margin the rocks are dropped downseveral thousand feet, or, which means the same thing, the rocks areupheaved on the west side; that is, the beds that were originallyhorizontal have been differentially displaced, so that on the west sideof the fracture the strata are several thousand feet higher than theyare on the east side of the fracture. The line of displacement is knownas the Echo Cliff Fault. West of this about twenty-five miles, there isanother fault with its throw to the east, the upheaved rocks being onthe west. This fault varies from 1, 500 to 2, 500 feet in throw, andextends far to the northward. It is known as the East Kaibab Fault. Still going westward, another fault is found, known as the West KaibabFault. Here the throw is on the west side, --that is, the rocks aredropped down to the westward from 1, 000 to 2, 000 feet. This faultgradually becomes less to the northward and is flexed toward the eastuntil it joins with the East Kaibab Fault. The block between the twofaults is the Kaibab Plateau. Going westward from 60 to 70 miles, stillanother fault is found, known as the Hurricane Ledge Fault. The throw isagain on the west side of the fracture and the rocks fall down somethousands of feet. This fault extends far northward into central Utah. To the west 25 or 30 miles is found a fault with the throw still on thewest. It has a drop of several thousand feet and extends across the RioColorado far to the southwest, probably beyond the Arizona-New Mexicoline. It also extends far to the north, until it is buried and lostunder the Pine Valley Mountains, which are of volcanic origin. 

Now let us see what all this means. In order clearly to understand thisexplanation the reader is referred to the illustration designated"Section and Bird's-Eye View of the Plateaus North of the Grand Canyon. "Starting at the Grand Wash on the west, the Grand Wash Cliffs, formed bythe Grand Wash Fault, are scaled; and if we are but a few miles north ofthe Grand Canyon we are on the Shiwits Plateau. Its western boundary isthe Grand Wash Cliffs, its southern boundary is the Grand Canyon, andits northern boundary is a line of cliffs of degradation, which will bedescribed hereafter. Going eastward across the Shiwits Plateau theHurricane Cliffs are reached, and climbing them we are on the UinkaretPlateau, which is bounded on the south by the Grand Canyon and on thenorth by the Vermilion Cliffs, that rise above its northern foot. Stillgoing eastward 30 or 40 miles to the brink of the Kanab Canyon, the WestKanab Plateau is crossed, which is bounded by the Toroweap Fault on thewest, separating it from the Uinkaret Plateau, and by the Kanab Canyonon the east, with the Grand Canyon on the south and the Vermilion Cliffson the north. Crossing the Kanab, we are on the East Kanab Plateau, which extends about 30 miles to the foot of the West Kaibab Cliffs, orthe escarpment of the West Kaibab Fault. This canyon also has the GrandCanyon on the south and the Vermilion Cliffs on the north. Climbing theWest Kaibab Fault, we are on the Kaibab Plateau. Now we have beenclimbing from west to east, and each ascent has been made at a line ofcliffs. Crossing the Kaibab Plateau to the East Kaibab Cliffs; thecountry falls down once more to the top of Marble Canyon Plateau. Crossing this plateau to the eastward, we at last reach the Echo CliffFault, where the rocks fall down on the eastern side once more; but thesurface of the country itself does not fall down--the later rocks stillremain, and the general level of the country is preserved except in onefeature of singular interest and beauty, to describe which a littlefurther explanation is necessary. 

I have spoken of these north-and-south faults as if they were fractures;and usually they are fractures, but in some places they are flexures. The Echo Cliffs displacement is a flexure. Just over the zone of flexurea long ridge extends from north to south, known as the Echo Cliffs. Itis composed of a comparatively hard and homogeneous sandstone of a laterage than the limestones of the Marble Canyon Plateau west of it; but theflexure dips down so as to carry this sandstone which forms the face ofthe cliff (presented westward) far under the surface, so that on theeast side rocks of still later age are found, the drop being severalthousand feet. The inclined red sandstone stands in a ridge more than 75miles in length, with an escarped face presented to the west and a faceof inclined rock to the east. The western side is carved into beautifulalcoves and is buttressed with a magnificent talus, and the redsandstone stands in fractured columns of giant size and marvelousbeauty. On the east side the declining beds are carved into pockets, which often hold water. This is the region of the Thousand Wells. Thefoot of the cliffs on the east side is several hundred feet above thefoot of the cliffs on the west side. On the west there is a vastlimestone stretch, the top of the Marble Canyon Plateau; on the eastthere are drifting sand-dunes. 

The terraced land described has three sets of terraces: one set on theeast, great steps to the Kaibab Plateau; another set on the west, fromthe Great Basin region to the Kaibab Plateau; and a third set from theGrand Canyon northward. There are thus three sets of cliffs: cliffsfacing the east, cliffs facing the west, and cliffs facing the south. The north-and-south cliffs are made by faults; the east-and-west cliffsare made by differential degradation. 

The stupendous cliffs by which the plateaus are bounded are ofindescribable grandeur and beauty. The cliffs bounding the KaibabPlateau descend on either side, and this is the culminating portion ofthe region. All the other plateaus are terraces, with cliffs ascendingon the one side and descending on the other. Some of the tables carrydead volcanoes on their backs that are towering mountains, and all ofthem are dissected by canyons that are gorges of profound depth. Butevery one of these plateaus has characteristics peculiar to itself andis worthy of its own chapter. On the north there is a pair of plateaus, twins in age, but very distinct in development, the Paunsagunt andMarkagunt. They are separated by the Sevier River, which flowsnorthward. Their southern margins constitute the highest steps of thegreat system of terraces of erosion. This escarpment is known as thePink Cliffs. Above, pine forests are found; below the cliffs are hillsand sand-dunes. The cliffs themselves are bold and often vertical wallsof a delicate pink color. 

In one of the earlier years of exploration I stood on the summit of thePink Cliffs of the Paunsagunt Plateau, 9, 000 feet above the level of thesea. Below me, to the southwest, I could look off into the canyons ofthe Virgen River, down into the canyon of the Kanab, and far away intothe Grand Canyon of the Colorado. From the lowlands of the Great Basinand from the depths of the Grand Canyon clouds crept up over the cliffsand floated over the landscape below me, concealing the canyons andmantling the mountains and mesas and buttes; still on toward me theclouds rolled, burying the landscape in their progress, until at lastthe region below was covered by a mantle of storm--a tumultuous sea ofrolling clouds, black and angry in parts, white as the foam of cataractshere and there, and everywhere flecked with resplendent sheen. Below mespread a vast ocean of vapor, for I was above the clouds. On descendingto the plateau, I found that a great storm had swept the land, and thedry arroyos of the day before were the channels of a thousand streams oftawny water, born of the ocean of vapor which had invaded the landbefore my vision. 

Below the Pink Cliffs another irregular zone of plateaus is found, stretching out to the margin of the Gray Cliffs. The Gray Cliffs arecomposed of a homogeneous sandstone which in some places weathers gray, but in others is as white as virgin snow. On the top of these cliffshills and sand-dunes are found, but everywhere on the Gray Cliff marginthe rocks are carved in fantastic forms; not in buttes and towers andpinnacles, but in great rounded bosses of rock. 

The Virgen River heads back in the Pink Cliffs of the Markagunt Plateauand with its tributaries crosses one of these plateaus above the GrayCliffs, carving a labyrinth of deep gorges. This is known as the ColobPlateau. Above, there is a vast landscape of naked, white and graysandstone, billowing in fantastic bosses. On the margins of the canyonsthese are rounded off into great vertical walls, and at the bottom ofevery winding canyon a beautiful stream of water is found running overquicksands. Sometimes the streams in their curving have cut under therocks, and overhanging cliffs of towering altitudes are seen; and somberchambers are found between buttresses that uphold the walls. Among theIndians this is known as the "Rock Rovers' Land, " and is peopled bymythic beings of uncanny traits. 

Below the Gray Cliffs another zone of plateaus is found, separated bythe north-and-south faults and divided from the Colob series by the GrayCliffs and demarcated from the plateaus to the south by the VermilionCliffs. The Vermilion Cliffs that face the south are of surpassingbeauty. The rocks are of orange and red above and of chocolate, lavender, gray, and brown tints below. The canyons that cut through thecliffs from north to south are of great diversity and all are ofprofound interest. In these canyon walls many caves are found, and oftenthe caves contain lakelets and pools of clear water. Canyons andre-entrant angles abound. The faces of the cliffs are terraced andsalients project onto the floors below. The outlying buttes are many. Standing away to the south and facing these cliffs when the sun is goingdown beyond the desert of the Great Basin, shadows are seen to creepinto the deep recesses, while the projecting forms are illumined, sothat the lights and shadows are in great and sharp contrast; then amillion lights seem to glow from a background of black gloom, and agreat bank of Tartarean fire stretches across the landscape. 

At the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs there is everywhere a zone ofvigorous junipers and pinons, for the belt of country is favored withcomparatively abundant rain. When the clouds drift over the plateausbelow from the south and west and strike the Vermilion Cliffs, they areabruptly lifted 2, 000 feet, and to make the climb they must unload theirburdens; so that here copious rains are discharged, and by such stormsthe cliffs are carved and ever from age to age carried back farther tothe north. In the Pink Cliffs above and the Gray Cliffs and theVermilion Cliffs, there are many notches that mark channels runningnorthward which had their sources on these plateaus when they extendedfarther to the south. The Rio Virgen is the only stream heading in thePink Cliffs and running into the Colorado which is perennial. The otherrivers and creeks carry streams of water in rainy seasons only. When asuccession of dry years occurs the canyons coming through the cliffs arechoked below, as vast bodies of sand are deposited. But now and then, ten or twenty years apart, great storms or successions of storms come, and the channels are flooded and cut their way again through thedrifting sands to solid rock below. Thus the streams below arealternately choked and cleared from period to period. 

To the south of the Vermilion Cliffs the last series or zone of plateausnorth of the Grand Canyon is found. The summits of these plateaus are ofcherty limestone. In the far west we have the Shiwits Plateau coveredwith sheets of lava and volcanic cones; then climbing the HurricaneLedge we have the Kanab Plateau, on the southwest portion of which theUinkaret Mountains stand--a group of dead volcanoes with many blackcinder cones scattered about. It is interesting to know how thesemountains are formed. The first eruptions of lava were long ago, andthey were poured out upon a surface 2, 000 feet or more higher than thegeneral surface now found. After the first eruptions of coulees thelands round about were degraded by rains and rivers. Then new eruptionsoccurred and additional sheets of lava were poured out; but these camenot through the first channels, but through later ones formed about theflanks of the elder beds of lava, so that the new sheets are imbricatedor shingled over the old sheets. But the overlap is from below upward. Then the land was further degraded, and a third set of coulees wasspread still lower down on the flanks, and on these last coulees theblack cinder cones stand. So the foundations of the Uinkaret Mountainsare of limestones, and these foundations are covered with sheets of lavaoverlapping from below upward, and the last coulees are decked withcones. 

Still farther east is the Kaibab Plateau, the culminating table-land ofthe region. It is covered with a beautiful forest, and in the forestcharming parks are found. Its southern extremity is a portion of thewall of the Grand Canyon; its western margin is the wall of the WestKaibab Fault; its eastern edge is the wall of the East Kaibab Fault; andits northern point is found where the two faults join. Here antelopefeed and many a deer goes bounding over the fallen timber. In winterdeep snows lie here, but the plateau has four months of the sweetestsummer man has ever known. 

On the terraced plateaus three tribes of Indians are found: the Shiwits("people of the springs"), the Uinkarets ("people of the pinemountains"), and the Unkakaniguts ("people of the red lands, " who dwellalong the Vermilion Cliffs). They are all Utes and belong to aconfederacy with other tribes living farther to the north, in Utah. These people live in shelters made of boughs piled up in circles andcovered with juniper bark supported by poles. These little houses areonly large enough for half a dozen persons huddling together in sleep. Their aboriginal clothing was very scant, the most important beingwildcatskin and wolfskin robes for the men, and rabbitskin robes for thewomen, though for occasions of festival they had clothing of tanned deerand antelope skins, often decorated with fantastic ornaments of snakeskins, feathers, and the tails of squirrels and chipmunks. A greatvariety of seeds and roots furnish their food, and on the higherplateaus there is much game, especially deer and antelope. But the wholecountry abounds with rabbits, which are often killed with arrows andcaught in snares. Every year they have great hunts, when scores ofrabbits are killed in a single day. It is managed in this way: They makenets of the fiber of the wild flax and of some other plant, the meshesof which are about an inch across. These nets are about three and a halffeet in width and hundreds of yards in length. They arrange such a netin a circle, not quite closed, supporting it by stakes and pinning thebottom firmly to the ground. From the opening of the circle they extendnet wings, expanding in a broad angle several hundred yards from eitherside. Then the entire tribe will beat up a great district of country anddrive the rabbits toward the nets, and finally into the circular snare, which is quickly closed, when the rabbits are killed with arrows. 

A great variety of desert plants furnish them food, as seeds, roots, andstalks. More than fifty varieties of such seed-bearing plants have beencollected. The seeds themselves are roasted, ground, and preserved incakes. The most abundant food of this nature is derived from thesunflower and the nuts of the pinon. They still make stone arrowheads, stone knives, and stone hammers, and kindle fire with the drill. Theirmedicine men are famous sorcerers. Coughs are caused by invisible wingedinsects, rheumatism by flesh-eating bugs too small to be seen, and thetoothache by invisible worms. Their healing art consists in searing andscarifying. Their medicine men take the medicine themselves to produce astate of ecstasy, in which the disease pests are discovered. They alsopractice dancing about their patients to drive away the evil beings orto avert the effects of sorcery. When a child is bitten by a rattlesnakethe snake is caught and brought near to the suffering urchin, andceremonies are performed, all for the purpose of prevailing upon thesnake to take back the evil spirit. They have quite a variety of mythicpersonages. The chief of these are the Enupits, who are pigmies dwellingabout the springs, and the Rock Rovers, who live in the cliffs. Theirgods are zoic, and the chief among them are the wolf, the rabbit, theeagle, the jay, the rattlesnake, and the spider. They have no knowledgeof the ambient air, but the winds are the breath of beasts living in thefour quarters of the earth. Whirlwinds that often blow among thesand-dunes are caused by the dancing of Enupits. The sky is ice, and therain is caused by the Rainbow God; he abraids the ice of the sky withhis scales and the snow falls, and if the weather be warm the ice meltsand it is rain. The sun is a poor slave compelled to make the samejourney every day since he was conquered by the rabbit. These tribeshave a great body of romance, in which the actors are animals, and theknowledge of these stories is the lore of their sages. 

Scattered over the plateaus are the ruins of many ancient stone pueblos, not unlike those previously described. 

The Kanab River heading in the Pink Cliffs runs directly southward andjoins the Colorado in the heart of the Grand Canyon. Its way is througha series of canyons. From one of these it emerges at the foot of theVermilion Cliffs, and here stood an extensive ruin not many years ago. Some portions of the pueblo were three stories high. The structure wasone of the best found in this land of ruins. The Mormon people settlinghere have used the stones of the old pueblo in building their homes, andnow no vestiges of the ancient structure remain. A few miles below thetown other ruins were found. They were scattered to Pipe's Springs, apoint twenty miles to the westward. Ruins were also discovered up thestream as far as the Pink Cliffs, and eastward along the VermilionCliffs nearly to the Colorado River, and out on the margin of the KanabPlateau. These were all ruins of outlying habitations be-longing to theKanab pueblo. From the study of the existing pueblos found elsewhere andfrom extensive study of the ruins, it seems that everywhere tribalpueblos were built of considerable dimensions, usually to give shelterto several hundred people. Then the people cultivated the soil byirrigation, and had their gardens and little fields scattered at widedistances about the central pueblo, by little springs and streams andwherever they could control the water with little labor to bring it onthe land. At such points stone houses were erected sufficient toaccommodate from one to two thousand people, and these were occupiedduring the season of cultivation and are known as rancherias. So onegreat tribe had its central pueblo and its outlying rancherias. Sometimes the rancherias were occupied from year to year, especially intime of peace, but usually they were occupied only during seasons ofcultivation. Such groups of ruins and pueblos with accessory rancheriasare still inhabited, and have been described as found throughout thePlateau Province except far to the north beyond the Uinta Mountains. Agreat pueblo once existed in the Uinta Valley on the south side of themountains. This is the most northern pueblo which has yet beendiscovered. But the pueblo-building tribes extended beyond the areadrained by the Colorado. On the west there was a pueblo in the GreatBasin at the site now occupied by Salt Lake City, and several more tothe southward, all on waters flowing into the desert. On the east suchpueblos were found among mountains at the headwaters of the Arkansas, Platte, and Canadian rivers. The entire area drained by the Rio Grandedel Norte was occupied by pueblo tribes, and a number are stillinhabited. To the south they extended far beyond the territory of theUnited States, and the so-called Aztec cities were rather superiorpueblos of this character. The known pueblo tribes of the United Statesbelong to several different linguistic stocks. They are far from beingone homogeneous people, for they have not only different languages butdifferent religions and worship different gods. These pueblo peoples arein a higher grade of culture than most Indian tribes of the UnitedStates. This is exhibited in the slight superiority of their arts, especially in their architecture. It is also noticeable in theirmythology and religion. Their gods, the heroes of their myths, are moreoften personifications of the powers and phenomena of nature, and theirreligious ceremonies are more elaborate, and their cult societies arehighly organized. As they had begun to domesticate animals and tocultivate the soil, so as to obtain a part of their subsistence byagriculture, they had almost accomplished the ascent from savagery tobarbarism when first discovered by the invading European. All theIndians of North America were in this state of transition, but thepueblo tribes had more nearly reached the higher goal. 

The great number of ruins found throughout the land has often beeninterpreted as evidence of a much larger pueblo population than has beenfound in post-Columbian time. But a careful study of the facts does notwarrant this conclusion. It would seem that for various reasons tribesabandoned old pueblos and built new, thus changing their permanentresidence from time to time; but more frequent changes were made intheir rancherias. These were but ephemeral, being moved from place toplace by the varying conditions of water supply. Most of the streams ofthe arid land are not perennial, but very many of the smaller streams ofthe pueblo region discharge their waters into the larger streams intimes of great flood. Such floods occur now here, now there, and atvarying periods, sometimes fifty years apart. When dry years follow oneanother for a long series, the channels of these intermittent streamsare choked with sand until the streams are buried and lost. Under suchcircumstances the rancherias were moved from dead stream to livingstream. In rare instances pueblos themselves were removed for thiscause. Other pueblos, and the rancherias generally, were abandoned intime of war; this seems to have been a potent cause for moving. Whenpestilence attacked a pueblo the people would sometimes leave in a bodyand never return. The cliff pueblos and dwellings, the cavate dwellings, and the cinder-cone towns were all built and occupied for defensivepurposes when powerful enemies threatened. The history of some of theold ruins has been obtained and we know the existing tribes who onceoccupied them; others still remain enshrouded in obscurity. 

CHAPTER V. 

FROM GREEN RIVER CITY TO FLAMING GORGE. 

In the summer of 1867, with a small party of naturalists, students, andamateurs like myself, I visited the mountain region of ColoradoTerritory. While in Middle Park I explored a little canyon through whichthe Grand River runs, immediately below the now well-known wateringplace, Middle Park Hot Springs. Later in the fall I passed through CedarCanyon, the gorge by which the Grand leaves the park. A result of thesummer's study was to kindle a desire to explore the canyons of theGrand, Green, and Colorado rivers, and the next summer I organized anexpedition with the intention of penetrating still farther into thatcanyon country. 

As soon as the snows were melted, so that the main range could becrossed, I went over into Middle Park, and proceeded thence down theGrand to the head of Cedar Canyon, then across the Park Range by Gore'sPass, and in October found myself and party encamped on the White River, about 120 miles above its mouth. At that point I built cabins andestablished winter quarters, intending to occupy the cold season, as faras possible, in exploring the adjacent country. The winter of 1868-69proved favorable to my purposes, and several excursions were made, southward to the Grand, down the White to the Green, northward to theYampa, and around the Uinta Mountains. During these several excursionsI seized every opportunity to study the canyons through which theseupper streams run, and while thus engaged formed plans for theexploration of the canyons of the Colorado. Since that time I have beenengaged in executing these plans, sometimes employed in the field, sometimes in the office. Begun originally as an exploration, the workwas finally developed into a survey, embracing the geography, geology, ethnography, and natural history of the country, and a number ofgentlemen have, from time to time, assisted me in the work. 

Early in the spring of 1869 a party was organized for the exploration ofthe canyons. Boats were built in Chicago and transported by rail to thepoint where the Union Pacific Railroad crosses the Green River. Withthese we were to descend the Green to the Colorado, and the Coloradodown to the foot of the Grand Canyon. 

_May 24, 1869. --_The good people of Green River City turn out to see usstart. We raise our little flag, push the boats from shore, and theswift current carries us down. 

Our boats are four in number. Three are built of oak; stanch and firm;double-ribbed, with double stem and stern posts, and furtherstrengthened by bulkheads, dividing each into three compartments. Two ofthese, the fore and aft, are decked, forming water-tight cabins. It isexpected these will buoy the boats should the waves roll over them inrough water. The fourth boat is made of pine, very light, but 16 feet inlength, with a sharp cutwater, and every way built for fast rowing, anddivided into compartments as the others. The little vessels are 21 feetlong, and, taking out the cargoes, can be carried by four men. 

We take with us rations deemed sufficient to last ten months, for weexpect, when winter comes on and the river is filled with ice, to lieover at some point until spring arrives; and so we take with us abundantsupplies of clothing, likewise. We have also a large quantity ofammunition and two or three dozen traps. For the purpose of buildingcabins, repairing boats, and meeting other exigencies, we are suppliedwith axes, hammers, saws, augers, and other tools, and a quantity ofnails and screws. For scientific work, we have two sextants, fourchronometers, a number of barometers, thermometers, compasses, and otherinstruments. 

The flour is divided into three equal parts; the meat, and all otherarticles of our rations, in the same way. Each of the larger boats hasan axe, hammer, saw, auger, and other tools, so that all are loadedalike. We distribute the cargoes in this way that we may not be entirelydestitute of some important article should any one of the boats be lost. In the small boat we pack a part of the scientific instruments, threeguns, and three small bundles of clothing, only; and in this I proceedin advance to explore the channel. 

J. C. Sumner and William H. Dunn are my boatmen in the "Emma Dean"; thenfollows "Kitty Clyde's Sister, " manned by W. H. Powell and G. Y. Bradley; next, the "No Name, " with O. G. Howland, Seneca Howland, andFrank Goodman; and last comes the "Maid of the Canyon, " with W. E. Hawkins and Andrew Hall. 

Sumner was a soldier during the late war, and before and since that timehas been a great traveler in the wilds of the Mississippi Valley and theRocky Mountains as an amateur hunter. He is a fair-haired, delicate-looking man, but a veteran in experience, and has performed thefeat of crossing the Rocky Mountains in midwinter on snowshoes. He spentthe winter of 1886-87 in Middle Park, Colorado, for the purpose ofmaking some natural history collections for me, and succeeded in killingthree grizzlies, two mountain lions, and a large number of elk, deer, sheep, wolves, beavers, and many other animals. When Bayard Taylortraveled through the parks of Colorado, Sumner was his guide, and hespeaks in glowing terms of Mr. Taylor's genial qualities in camp, but hewas mortally offended when the great traveler requested him to act asdoorkeeper at Breckenridge to receive the admission fee from those whoattended his lectures. 

Dunn was a hunter, trapper, and mule-packer in Colorado for many years. He dresses in buckskin with a dark oleaginous luster, doubtless due tothe fact that he has lived on fat venison and killed many beavers sincehe first donned his uniform years ago. His raven hair falls down to hisback, for he has a sublime contempt of shears and razors. 

Captain Powell was an officer of artillery during the late war and wascaptured on the 22d day of July, 1864, at Atlanta and served a tenmonths' term in prison at Charleston, where he was placed with otherofficers under fire. He is silent, moody, and sarcastic, thoughsometimes he enlivens the camp at night with a song. He is neversurprised at anything, his coolness never deserts him, and he wouldchoke the belching throat of a volcano if he thought the spitfire meantanything but fun. We call him _"_Old Shady. "

Bradley, a lieutenant during the late war, and since orderly sergeant inthe regular army, was, a few weeks previous to our start, discharged, byorder of the Secretary of War, that he might go on this trip. He isscrupulously careful, and a little mishap works him into a passion, butwhen labor is needed he has a ready hand and powerful arm, and indanger, rapid judgment and unerring skill. A great difficulty or perilchanges the petulant spirit into a brave, generous soul. 

O. G. Howland is a printer by trade, an editor by profession, and ahunter by choice. When busily employed he usually puts his hat in hispocket, and his thin hair and long beard stream in the wind, giving hima wild look, much like that of King Lear in an illustrated copy ofShakespeare which tumbles around the camp. 

Seneca Howland is a quiet, pensive young man, and a great favorite withall. 

Goodman is a stranger to us--a stout, willing Englishman, with floridface and more florid anticipations of a glorious trip. 

Billy Hawkins, the cook, was a soldier in the Union Army during the war, and when discharged at its close went West, and since then has beenengaged as teamster on the plains or hunter in the mountains. He is anathlete and a jovial good fellow, who hardly seems to know his ownstrength. 

Hall is a Scotch boy, nineteen years old, with what seems to us a"secondhand head, " which doubtless came down to him from some knight whowore it during the Border Wars. It looks a very old head indeed, withdeep-set blue eyes and beaked nose. Young as he is, Hall has hadexperience in hunting, trapping, and fighting Indians, and he makes themost of it, for he can tell a good story, and is never encumbered byunnecessary scruples in giving to his narratives those embellishmentswhich help to make a story complete. He is always ready for work or playand is a good hand at either. 

Our boats are heavily loaded, and only with the utmost care is itpossible to float in the rough river without shipping water. A mile ortwo below town we run on a sandbar. The men jump into the stream andthus lighten the vessels, so that they drift over, and on we go. 

In trying to avoid a rock an oar is broken on one of the boats, and, thus crippled, she strikes. The current is swift and she is sent reelingand rocking into the eddy. In the confusion two other oars are lostoverboard, and the men seem quite discomfited, much to the amusement ofthe other members of the party. Catching the oars and starting again, the boats are once more borne down the stream, until we land at a smallcottonwood grove on the bank and camp for noon. 

During the afternoon we run down to a point where the river sweeps thefoot of an overhanging cliff, and here we camp for the night. The sun isyet two hours high, so I climb the cliffs and walk back among thestrangely carved rocks of the Green River bad lands. These aresandstones and shales, gray and buff, red and brown, blue and blackstrata in many alternations, lying nearly horizontal, and almost withoutsoil and vegetation. They are very friable, and the rain and streamshave carved them into quaint shapes. Barren desolation is stretchedbefore me; and yet there is a beauty in the scene. The fantasticcarvings, imitating architectural forms and suggesting rude but weirdstatuary, with the bright and varied colors of the rocks, conspire tomake a scene such as the dweller in verdure-clad hills can scarcelyappreciate. 

Standing on a high point, I can look off in every direction over a vastlandscape, with salient rocks and cliffs glittering in the evening sun. Dark shadows are settling in the valleys and gulches, and the heightsare made higher and the depths deeper by the glamour and witchery oflight and shade. Away to the south the Uinta Mountains stretch in a longline, --high peaks thrust into the sky, and snow fields glittering likelakes of molten silver, and pine forests in somber green, and rosyclouds playing around the borders of huge, black masses; and heights andclouds and mountains and snow fields and forests and rock-lands areblended into one grand view. Now the sun goes down, and I return tocamp. 

_May 25. _--We start early this morning and run along at a good rateuntil about nine o'clock, when we are brought up on a gravelly bar. Alljump out and help the boats over by main strength. Then a rain comes on, and river and clouds conspire to give us a thorough drenching. Wet, chilled, and tired to exhaustion, we stop at a cottonwood grove on thebank, build a huge fire, make a cup of coffee, and are soon refreshedand quite merry. When the clouds "get out of our sunshine" we startagain. A few miles farther down a flock of mountain sheep are seen on acliff to the right. The boats are quietly tied up and three or four mengo after them. In the course of two or three hours they return. The cookhas been successful in bringing down a fat lamb. The unsuccessfulhunters taunt him with finding it dead; but it is soon dressed, cooked, and eaten, and makes a fine four o'clock dinner. 

"All aboard, " and down the river for another dozen miles. On the way wepass the mouth of Black's Fork, a dirty little stream that seemssomewhat swollen. Just below its mouth we land and camp. 

_May 26. --_To-day we pass several curiously shaped buttes, standingbetween the west bank of the river and the high bluffs beyond. Thesebuttes are outliers of the same beds of rocks as are exposed on thefaces of the bluffs, --thinly laminated shales and sandstones of manycolors, standing above in vertical cliffs and buttressed below with awater-carved talus; some of them attain an altitude of nearly a thousandfeet above the level of the river. 

We glide quietly down the placid stream past the carved cliffs of the_mauvaises terres, _ now and then obtaining glimpses of distantmountains. Occasionally, deer are started from the glades among thewillows; and several wild geese, after a chase through the water, areshot. After dinner we pass through a short and narrow canyon into abroad valley; from this, long, lateral valleys stretch back on eitherside as far as the eye can reach. 

Two or three miles below, Henry's Fork enters from the right. We land ashort distance above the junction, where a _cache_ of instruments andrations was made several months ago in a cave at the foot of the cliff, a distance back from the river. Here they were safe from the elementsand wild beasts, but not from man. Some anxiety is felt, as we havelearned that a party of Indians have been camped near the place forseveral weeks. Our fears are soon allayed, for we find the _cache_undisturbed. Our chronometer wheels have not been taken for hairornaments, our barometer tubes for beads, or the sextant thrown into theriver as "bad medicine, " as had been predicted. Taking up our _cache, _we pass down to the foot of the Uinta Mountains and in a cold storm gointo camp. 

The river is running to the south; the mountains have an easterly andwesterly trend directly athwart its course, yet it glides on in a quietway as if it thought a mountain range no formidable obstruction. Itenters the range by a flaring, brilliant red gorge, that may be seenfrom the north a score of miles away. The great mass of the mountainridge through which the gorge is cut is composed of bright vermilionrocks; but they are surmounted by broad bands of mottled buff and gray, and these bands come down with a gentle curve to the water's edge on thenearer slope of the mountain. 

This is the head of the first of the canyons we are about to explore--anintroductory one to a series made by the river through this range. Wename it Flaming Gorge. The cliffs, or walls, we find on measurement tobe about 1, 200 feet high. 

_May 27. --_To-day it rains, and we employ the time in repairing one ofour barometers, which was broken on the way from New York. A new tubehas to be put in; that is, a long glass tube has to be filled withmercury, four or five inches at a time, and each installment boiled overa spirit lamp. It is a delicate task to do this without breaking theglass; but we have success, and are ready to measure mountains oncemore. 

_May 28. --_To-day we go to the summit of the cliff on the left and takeobservations for altitude, and are variously employed in topographic andgeologic work. 

_May 29. --_This morning Bradley and I cross the river and climb morethan a thousand feet to a point where we can see the stream sweeping ina long, beautiful curve through the gorge below. Turning and looking tothe west, we can see the valley of Henry's Fork, through which, for manymiles, the little river flows in a tortuous channel. Cottonwood grovesare planted here and there along its course, and between them arestretches of grass land. The narrow mountain valley is inclosed oneither side by sloping walls of naked rock of many bright colors. To thesouth of the valley are the Uintas, and the peaks of the WasatchMountains can be faintly seen in the far west. To the north, desertplains, dotted here and there with curiously carved hills and buttes, extend to the limit of vision. 

For many years this valley has been the home of a number ofmountaineers, who were originally hunters and trappers, living with theIndians. Most of them have one or more Indian wives. They no longer roamwith the nomadic tribes in pursuit of buckskin or beaver, but haveaccumulated herds of cattle and horses, and consider themselves quitewell to do. Some of them have built cabins; others still live in lodges. John Baker is one of the most famous of these men, and from our point ofview we can see his lodge, three or four miles up the river. 

The distance from Green River City to Flaming Gorge is 62 miles. Theriver runs between bluffs, in some places standing so close to eachother that no flood plain is seen. At such a point the river mightproperly be said to run through a canyon. The bad lands on either sideare interrupted here and there by patches of _Artemisia, _ or sage brush. Where there is a flood plain along either side of the river, a fewcottonwoods may be seen. 

CHAPTER VI. 

FROM FLAMING GORGE TO THE GATE OF LODORE. 

One must not think of a mountain range as a line of peaks standing on aplain, but as a broad platform many miles wide from which mountains havebeen carved by the waters. One must conceive, too, that this plateau iscut by gulches and canyons in many directions and that beautiful valleysare scattered about at different altitudes. The first series of canyonswe are about to explore constitutes a river channel through such a rangeof mountains. The canyon is cut nearly halfway through the range, thenturns to the east and is cut along the central line, or axis, graduallycrossing it to the south. Keeping this direction for more than 50 miles, it then turns abruptly to a southwest course, and goes diagonallythrough the southern slope of the range. 

This much we know before entering, as we made a partial exploration ofthe region last fall, climbing many of its peaks, and in a few placesreaching the brink of the canyon walls and looking over precipices manyhundreds of feet high to the water below. 

Here and there the walls are broken by lateral canyons, the channels oflittle streams entering the river. Through two or three of these wefound our way down to the Green in early winter and walked along the lowwater-beach at the foot of the cliffs for several miles. Where the riverhas this general easterly direction the western part only has cut foritself a canyon, while the eastern has formed a broad valley, called, inhonor of an old-time trapper, Brown's Park, and long known as a favoritewinter resort for mountain men and Indians. 

_May 30. --_This morning we are ready to enter the mysterious canyon, andstart with some anxiety. The old mountaineers tell us that it cannot berun; the Indians say, "Water heap catch 'em"; but all are eager for thetrial, and off we go. 

Entering Flaming Gorge, we quickly run through it on a swift current andemerge into a little park. Half a mile below, the river wheels sharplyto the left and enters another canyon cut into the mountain. We enterthe narrow passage. On either side the walls rapidly increase inaltitude. On the left are overhanging ledges and cliffs, --500, 1, 000, 1, 500 feet high. 

On the right the rocks are broken and ragged, and the water fills thechannel from cliff to cliff. Now the river turns abruptly around a pointto the right, and the waters plunge swiftly down among great rocks; andhere we have our first experience with canyon rapids. I stand up on thedeck of my boat to seek a way among the wave-beaten rocks. All untriedas we are with such waters, the moments are filled with intense anxiety. Soon our boats reach the swift current; a stroke or two, now on this. Side, now on that, and we thread the narrow passage with exhilaratingVelocity, mounting the high waves, whose foaming crests dash over us, and plunging into the troughs, until we reach the quiet water below. Then comes a feeling of great relief. Our first rapid is run. Anothermile, and we come into the valley again. 

Let me explain this canyon. Where the river turns to the left above, ittakes a course directly into the mountain, penetrating to its veryheart, then wheels back upon itself, and runs out into the valley fromwhich it started only half a mile below the point at which it entered;so the canyon is in the form of an elongated letter U, with the apex inthe center of the mountain. We name it Horseshoe Canyon. 

Soon we leave the valley and enter another short canyon, very narrow atfirst, but widening below as the canyon walls increase in height. Herewe discover the mouth of a beautiful little creek coming down throughits narrow water-worn cleft. Just at its entrance there is a park of twoor three hundred acres, walled on every side by almost vertical cliffshundreds of feet in altitude, with three gateways through the walls--oneup the river, another down, and a third through which the creek comesin. The river is broad, deep, and quiet, and its waters mirror toweringrocks. 

Kingfishers are playing about the streams, and so we adopt as namesKingfisher Creek, Kingfisher Park, and Kingfisher Canyon. At night wecamp at the foot of this canyon. 

Our general course this day has been south, but here the river turns tothe east around a point which is rounded to the shape of a dome. On itssides little cells have been carved by the action of the water, and inthese pits, which cover the face of the dome, hundreds of swallows havebuilt their nests. As they flit about the cliffs, they look like swarmsof bees, giving to the whole the appearance of a colossal beehive of theold-time form, and so we name it Beehive Point. 

The opposite wall is a vast amphitheater, rising in a succession ofterraces to a height of 1, 200 or 1, 500 feet. Each step is built of redsandstone, with a face of naked red rock and a glacis clothed withverdure. So the amphitheater seems banded red and green, and the eveningsun is playing with roseate flashes on the rocks, with shimmering greenon the cedars' spray, and with iridescent gleams on the dancing waves. The landscape revels in the sunshine. 

_May 31. --_We start down another canyon and reach rapids made dangerousby high rocks lying in the channel; so we run ashore and let our boatsdown with lines. In the afternoon we come to more dangerous rapids andstop to examine them. I find we must do the same work again, but, beingon the wrong side of the river to obtain a foothold, must first crossover--no very easy matter in such a current, with rapids and rocksbelow. We take the pioneer boat, "Emma Dean, " over, and unload her onthe bank; then she returns and takes another load. Running back andforth, she soon has half our cargo over. Then one of the larger boats ismanned and taken across, but is carried down almost to the rocks inspite of hard rowing. The other boats follow and make the landing, andwe go into camp for the night. 

At the foot of the cliff on this side there is a long slope covered withpines; under these we make our beds, and soon after sunset are seekingrest and sleep. The cliffs on either side are of red sandstone andstretch toward the heavens 2, 500 feet. On this side the long, pine-cladslope is surmounted by perpendicular cliffs, with pines on theirsummits. The wall on the other side is bare rock from the water's edgeup 2, 000 feet, then slopes back, giving footing to pines and cedars. 

As the twilight deepens, the rocks grow dark and somber; the threateningroar of the water is loud and constant, and I lie awake with thoughts ofthe morrow and the canyons to come, interrupted now and then bycharacteristics of the scenery that attract my attention. And here Imake a discovery. On looking at the mountain directly in front, thesteepness of the slope is greatly exaggerated, while the distance to itssummit and its true altitude are correspondingly diminished. I haveheretofore found that to judge properly of the slope of a mountain side, one must see it in profile. In coming down the river this afternoon, Iobserved the slope of a particular part of the wall and made an estimateof its altitude. While at supper, I noticed the same cliff from aposition facing it, and it seemed steeper, but not half so high. Nowlying on my side and looking at it, the true proportions appear. Thisseems a wonder, and I rise to take a view of it standing. It is the samecliff as at supper time. Lying down again, it is the cliff as seen inprofile, with a long slope and distant summit. Musing on this, I forget"the morrow and the canyons to come"; I have found a way to estimate thealtitude and slope of an inclination, in like manner as I can judge ofdistance along the horizon. The reason is simple. A reference to thestereoscope will suggest it. The distance between the eyes forms a baseline for optical triangulation. 

_June 1. --_To-day we have an exciting ride. The river rolls down thecanyon at a wonderful rate, and, with no rocks in the way, we makealmost railroad speed. Here and there the water rushes into a narrowgorge; the rocks on the side roll it into the center in great waves, andthe boats go leaping and bounding over these like things of life, reminding me of scenes witnessed in Middle Park--herds of startled deerbounding through forests beset with fallen timber. I mention theresemblance to some of the hunters, and so striking is it that theexpression, "See the blacktails jumping the logs, " comes to be a commonone. At times the waves break and roll over the boats, whichnecessitates much bailing and obliges us to stop occasionally for thatpurpose. At one time we run twelve miles in an hour, stoppages included. 

Last spring I had a conversation with an old Indian named Pariate, whotold me about one of his tribe attempting to run this canyon. "Therocks, " he said, holding his hands above his head, his arms vertical, and looking between them to the heavens, "the rocks h-e-a-p, OVEN NEAR PESCADO PUEBLO. 

h-e-a-p high; the water go h-oo-woogh, h-oo-woogh; water-pony li-e-a-pbuck; water catch 'em; no see 'em Injun any more! no see 'em squaw anymore! no see 'em papoose any more!"

Those who have seen these wild Indian ponies rearing alternately beforeand behind, or "bucking, " as it is called in the vernacular, willappreciate his description. 

At last we come to calm water, and a threatening roar is heard in thedistance. Slowly approaching the point whence the sound issues, we comenear to falls, and tie up just above them on the left. Here we shall becompelled to make a portage; so we unload the boats, and fasten a longline to the bow of the smaller one, and another to the stern, and moorher close to the brink of the fall. Then the bowline is taken below andmade fast; the stern line is held by five or six men, and the boat letdown as long as they can hold her against the rushing waters; then, letting go one end of the line, it runs through the ring; the boat leapsover the fall and is caught by the lower rope. 

Now we rest for the night. 

_June 2. --_This morning we make a trail among the rocks, transport thecargoes to a point below the fall, let the remaining boats over, and areready to start before noon. 

On a high rock by which the trail passes we find the inscription:"Ashley 18-5. " The third figure is obscure--some of the party reading it1835, some 1855. James Baker, an old-time mountaineer, once told meabout a party of men starting down the river, and Ashley was named asone. The story runs that the boat was swamped, and some of the partydrowned in one of the canyons below. The word "Ashley" is a warning tous, and we resolve on great caution. Ashley Falls is the name we give tothe cataract. 

The river is very narrow, the right wall vertical for 200 or 300 feet, the left towering to a great height, with a vast pile of broken rockslying between the foot of the cliff and the water. Some of the rocksbroken down from the ledge above have tumbled into the channel andcaused this fall. One great cubical block, thirty or forty feet high, stands in the middle of the stream, and the waters, parting to eitherside, plunge down about twelve feet, and are broken again by the smallerrocks into a rapid below. Immediately below the falls the water occupiesthe entire channel, there being no talus at the foot of the cliffs. 

We embark and run down a short distance, where we find a landing-placefor dinner. 

On the waves again all the afternoon. Near the lower end of this canyon, to which we have given the name of Red Canyon, is a little park, wherestreams come down from distant mountain summits and enter the river oneither side; and here we camp for the night under two stately pines. 

_June 3. --_This morning we spread our rations, clothes, etc. , on theground to dry, and several of the party go out for a hunt. I take a walkof five or six miles up to a pine-grove park, its grassy carpet bedeckedwith crimson velvet flowers, set in groups on the stems of pear-shapedcactus plants; patches of painted cups are seen here and there, withyellow blossoms protruding through scarlet bracts; little blue-eyedflowers are peeping through the grass; and the air is filled withfragrance from the white blossoms of the _Spiraea. _ A mountain brookruns through the midst, ponded below by beaver dams. It is a quiet placefor retirement from the raging waters of the canyon. 

It will be remembered that the course of the river from Flaming Gorge toBeehive Point is in a southerly direction and at right angles to theUinta Mountains, and cuts into the range until it reaches a point withinfive miles of the crest, where it turns to the east and pursues a coursenot quite parallel to the trend of the range, but crosses the axisslowly in a direction a little south of east. Thus there is a triangulartract between the river and the axis of the mountain, with its acuteangle extending eastward. I climb the mountain overlooking this country. To the east the peaks are not very high, and already most of the snowhas melted, but little patches lie here and there under the lee ofledges of rock. To the west the peaks grow higher and the snow fieldslarger. Between the brink of the canyon and the foot of these peaks, there is a high bench. A number of creeks have their sources in thesnowbanks to the south and run north into the canyon, tumbling down from3, 000 to 5, 000 feet in a distance of five or six miles. Along theirupper courses they run through grassy valleys, but as they approach RedCanyon they rapidly disappear under the general surface of the country, and emerge into the canyon below in deep, dark gorges of their own. Eachof these short lateral canyons is marked by a succession of cascades anda wild confusion of rocks and trees and fallen timber and thickundergrowth. 

The little valleys above are beautiful parks; between the parks arestately pine forests, half hiding ledges of red sandstone. Mule deer andelk abound; grizzly bears, too, are abundant; and here wild cats, wolverines, and mountain lions are at home. The forest aisles are filledwith the music of birds, and the parks are decked with flowers. Noisybrooks meander through them; ledges of moss-covered rocks are seen; andgleaming in the distance are the snow fields, and the mountain tops areaway in the clouds. 

_June 4-_--We start early and run through to Brown's Park. Halfway downthe valley, a spur of a red mountain stretches across the river, whichcuts a canyon through it. Here the walls are comparatively low, butvertical. A vast number of swallows have built their _adobe_ houses onthe face of the cliffs, on either side of the river. The waters are deepand quiet, but the swallows are swift and noisy enough, sweeping by intheir curved paths through the air or chattering from the rocks, whilethe young ones stretch their little heads on naked necks through thedoorways of their mud houses and clamor for food. They are a noisypeople. We call this Swallow Canyon. 

Still down the river we glide until an early hour in the afternoon, whenwe go into camp under a giant cottonwood standing on the right bank alittle way back from the stream. The party has succeeded in killing afine lot of wild ducks, and during the afternoon a mess of fish istaken. 

_June 5. _--With one of the men I climb a mountain, off on the right. Along spur, with broken ledges of rock, puts down to the river, and alongits course, or up the "hogback, " as it is called, I make the ascent. Dunn, who is climbing to the same point, is coming up the gulch. Twohours' hard work has brought us to the summit. These mountains are allverdure-clad; pine and cedar forests are set on green terraces;snow-clad mountains are seen in the distance, to the west; the plains ofthe upper Green stretch out before us to the north until they are lostin the blue heavens; but half of the river-cleft range intervenes, andthe river itself is at our feet. 

This half range, beyond the river, is composed of long ridges nearlyparallel with the valley. On the farther ridge, to the north, fourcreeks have their sources. These cut through the intervening ridges, oneof which is much higher than that on which they head, by canyon gorges;then they run with gentle curves across the valley, their banks set withwillows, box-elders, and cottonwood groves. To the east we look up thevalley of the Vermilion, through which Fremont found his path on his wayto the great parks of Colorado. 

The reading of the barometer taken, we start down in company, and reachcamp tired and hungry, which does not abate one bit our enthusiasm as wetell of the day's work with its glory of landscape. 

_June 6. _--At daybreak I am awakened by a chorus of birds. It seems asif all the feathered songsters of the region have come to the old tree. Several species of warblers, woodpeckers, and flickers above, meadowlarks in the grass, and wild geese in the river. I recline on my elbowand watch a lark near by, and then awaken my bedfellow, to listen to myJenny Lind. A real morning concert for _me;_ none of your _"matinees"!_

Our cook has been an ox-driver, or "bull-whacker, " on the plains, inone of those long trains now no longer seen, and he hasn't forgotten hisold ways. In the midst of the concert, his voice breaks in: "Roll out!roll out! bulls in the corral! chain up the gaps! Roll out! roll out!roll out!" And this is our breakfast bell. 

To-day we pass through, the park, and camp at the head of anothercanyon. 

_June 7. --_To-day two or three of us climb to the summit of the cliff onthe left, and find its altitude above camp to be 2, 086 feet. The rocksare split with fissures, deep and narrow, sometimes a hundred feet ormore to the bottom, and these fissures are filled with loose earth anddecayed vegetation in which lofty pines find root. On a rock we find apool of clear, cold water, caught from yesterday evening's shower. Aftera good drink we walk out to the brink of the canyon and look down to thewater below. I can do this now, but it has taken several years ofmountain climbing to cool my nerves so that I can sit with my feet overthe edge and calmly look down a precipice 2, 000 feet. And yet I cannotlook on and see another do the same. I must either bid him come away orturn my head. The canyon walls are buttressed on a grand scale, withdeep alcoves intervening; columned crags crown the cliffs, and the riveris rolling below. 

When we return to camp at noon the sun shines in splendor on vermilionwalls, shaded into green and gray where the rocks are lichened over; theriver fills the channel from wall to wall, and the canyon opens, like abeautiful portal, to a region of glory. This evening, as I write, thesun is going down and the shadows are settling in the canyon. Thevermilion gleams and roseate hues, blending with the green and graytints, are slowly changing to somber brown above, and black shadows arecreeping over them below; and now it is a dark portal to a region ofgloom--the gateway through which we are to enter on our voyage ofexploration tomorrow. What shall we find?

The distance from Flaming Gorge to Beehive Point is 9 2/3 miles. Besidespassing through the gorge, the river runs through Horseshoe andKingfisher canyons, separated by short valleys. The highest point on thewalls at Flaming Gorge is 1, 300 feet above the river. The east wall atthe apex of Horseshoe Canyon is about 1, 600 feet above the water's edge, and from this point the walls slope both to the head and foot of thecanyon. 

Kingfisher Canyon, starting at the water's edge above, steadilyincreases in altitude to 1, 200 feet at the foot. 

Red Canyon is 25 2/3 miles long, and the highest walls are about 2, 500feet. 

Brown's Park is a valley, bounded on either side by a mountain range, really an expansion of the canyon. The river, through the park, is 351/2 miles long, but passes through two short canyons on its way, wherespurs from the mountains on the south are thrust across its course. 

CHAPTER VII. 

THE CANYON OF LODORE. 

_June 8_. --We enter the canyon, and until noon find a succession ofrapids, over which, our boats have to be taken. Here I must explain ourmethod of proceeding at such places. The "Emma Dean "'goes in advance;the other boats follow, in obedience to signals. When we approach arapid, or what on other rivers would often be called a fall, I stand ondeck to examine it, while the oarsmen back water, and we drift on asslowly as possible. If I can see a clear chute between the rocks, awaywe go; but if the channel is beset entirely across, we signal the otherboats, pull to land, and I walk along the shore for closer examination. If this reveals no clear channel, hard work begins. We drop the boats tothe very head of the dangerous place and let them over by lines or makea portage, frequently carrying both boats and cargoes over the rocks. 

The waves caused by such falls in a river differ much from the waves ofthe sea. The water of an ocean wave merely rises and falls; the formonly passes on, and form chases form unceasingly. A body floating onsuch waves merely rises and sinks--does not progress unless impelled bywind or some other power. But here the water of the wave passes on whilethe form remains. The waters plunge down ten or twenty feet to the footof a fall, spring up again in a great wave, then down and up in a seriesof billows that gradually disappear in the more quiet waters below; butthese waves are always there, and one can stand above and count them. 

A boat riding such billows leaps and plunges along with great velocity. Now, the difficulty in riding over these falls, when no rocks are in theway, is with the first wave at the foot. This will sometimes gather fora moment, heap up higher and higher, and then break back. 

If the boat strikes it the instant after it breaks, she cuts through, and the mad breaker dashes its spray over the boat and washes overboardall who do not cling tightly. If the boat, in going over the falls, chances to get caught in some side current and is turned from itscourse, so as to strike the wave _"_broadside on, " and the wave breaksat the same instant, the boat is capsized; then we must cling to her, for the water-tight compartments act as buoys and she cannot sink; andso we go, dragged through the waves, until still waters are reached, when we right the boat and climb aboard. We have several suchexperiences to-day. 

At night we camp on the right bank, on a little shelving rock betweenthe river and the foot of the cliff; and with night comes gloom intothese great depths. After supper we sit by our camp fire, made ofdriftwood caught by the rocks, and tell stories of wild life; for themen have seen such in the mountains or on the plains, and on thebattlefields of the South. It is late before we spread our blankets onthe beach. 

Lying down, we look up through the canyon and see that only a little ofthe blue heaven appears overhead--a crescent of blue sky, with two orthree constellations peering down upon us. I do not sleep for some time, as the excitement of the day has not worn off. Soon I see a bright starthat appears to rest on the very verge of the cliff overhead to theeast. Slowly it seems to float from its resting place on the rock overthe canyon. At first it appears like a jewel set on the brink of thecliff, but as it moves out from the rock _I_ almost wonder that it doesnot fall. In fact, it does seem to descend in a gentle curve, as thoughthe bright sky in which the stars are set were spread across the canyon, resting on either wall, and swayed down by its own weight. The starsappear to be in the canyon. I soon discover that it is the bright starVega; so it occurs to me to designate this part of the wall as the"Cliff of the Harp. "

_June 9. --_One of the party suggests that we call this the Canyon ofLodore, and the name is adopted. Very slowly we make our way, oftenclimbing on the rocks at the edge of the water for a few hundred yardsto examine the channel before running it. During the afternoon we cometo a place where it is necessary to make a portage. The little boat islanded and the others are signaled to come up. 

When these rapids or broken falls occur usually the channel is suddenlynarrowed by rocks which have been tumbled from the cliffs or have beenwashed in by lateral streams. Immediately above the narrow, rockychannel, on one or both sides, there is often a bay of quiet water, inwhich a landing can be made with ease. Sometimes the water descends witha smooth, unruffled surface from the broad, quiet spread above into thenarrow, angry channel below by a semicircular sag. Great care must betaken not to pass over the brink into this deceptive pit, but above itwe can row with safety. I walk along the bank to examine the ground, leaving one of my men with a flag to guide the other boats to thelanding-place. I soon see one of the boats make shore all right, andfeel no more concern; but a minute after, I hear a shout, and, lookingaround, see one of the boats shooting down the center of the sag. It isthe "No Name, " with Captain Howland, his brother, and Goodman. I feelthat its going over is inevitable, and run to save the third boat. Aminute more, and she turns the point and heads for the shore. Then Iturn down stream again and scramble along to look for the boat that hasgone over. The first fall is not great, only 10 or 12 feet, and we oftenrun such; but below, the river tumbles down again for 40 or 50 feet, ina channel filled with dangerous rocks that break the waves intowhirlpools and beat them into foam. I pass around a great crag just intime to see the boat strike a rock and, rebounding from the shock, careen and fill its open compartment with water. Two of the men losetheir oars; she swings around and is carried down at a rapid rate, broadside on, for a few yards, when, striking amidships on another rockwith great force, she is broken quite in two and the men are thrown intothe river. But the larger part of the boat floats buoyantly, and theysoon seize it, and down the river they drift, past the rocks for a fewhundred yards, to a second rapid filled with huge boulders, where theboat strikes again and is dashed to pieces, and the men and fragmentsare soon carried beyond my sight. Running along, I turn a bend and see aman's head above the water, washed about in a whirlpool below a greatrock. It is Frank Goodman, clinging to the rock with a grip upon whichlife depends. Coming opposite, I see Howland trying to go to his aidfrom an island on which he has been washed. Soon he comes near enough toreach Prank with a pole, which he extends toward him. The latter lets gothe rock, grasps the pole, and is pulled ashore. Seneca Howland iswashed farther down the island and is caught by some rocks, and, thoughsomewhat bruised, manages to get ashore in safety. This seems a longtime as I tell it, but it is quickly done. 

And now the three men are on an island, with a swift, dangerous river oneither side and a fall below. The "Emma Dean" is soon brought down, andSumner, starting above as far as possible, pushes out. Right skillfullyhe plies the oars, and a few strokes set him on the island at the properpoint. Then they all pull the boat up stream as far as they are able, until they stand in water up to their necks. One sits on a rock andholds the boat until the others are ready to pull, then gives the boat apush, clings to it with his hands, and climbs in as they pull formainland, which they reach in safety. We are as glad to shake hands withthem as though they had been on a voyage around the world and wrecked ona distant coast. 

Down the river half a mile we find that the after cabin of thewrecked boat, with a part of the bottom, ragged and splintered, hasfloated against a rock and stranded. There are valuable articles in thecabin; but, on examination, we determine that life should notbe risked to save them. Of course, the cargo of rations, instruments, and clothing is gone. 

We return to the boats and make camp for the night. No sleep comes to mein all those dark hours. The rations, instruments, and clothing havebeen divided among the boats, anticipating such an accident as this; andwe started with duplicates of everything that was deemed necessary tosuccess. But, in the distribution, there was one exception to thisprecaution--the barometers were all placed in one boat, and they arelost! There is a possibility that they are in the cabin lodged againstthe rock, for that is where they were kept. But, then, how to reachthem? The river is rising. Will they be there to-morrow? Can I go out toSalt Lake City and obtain barometers from New York?

_June 10. --_I have determined to get the barometers from the wreck, ifthey are there. After breakfast, while the men make the portage, I godown again for another examination, There the cabin lies, only carried50 or 60 feet farther on. Carefully looking over the ground, I amsatisfied that it can be reached with safety, and return to tell the menmy conclusion. Sumner and Dunn volunteer to take the little boat andmake the attempt. They start, reach it, and out come the barometers!The boys set up a shout, and I join them, pleased that they should be asglad as myself to save the instruments. When the boat lands on our side, I find that the only things saved from the wreck were the barometers, apackage of thermometers, and a three-gallon keg of whiskey. The last iswhat the men were shouting about. They had taken it aboard unknown tome, and now I am glad they did take it, for it will do them good, asthey are drenched every day by the melting snow which runs down from thesummits of the Rocky Mountains. 

We come back to our work at the portage and find that it is necessary tocarry our rations over the rocks for nearly a mile and to let our boatsdown with lines, except at a few points, where they also must becarried. Between the river and the eastern wall of the canyon there isan immense talus of broken rocks. These have tumbled down from thecliffs above and constitute a vast pile of huge angular fragments. Onthese we build a path for a quarter of a mile to a small sand-beachcovered with driftwood, through which we clear a way for severalhundred yards, then continue the trail over another pile of rocks nearlyhalf a mile farther down, to a little bay. The greater part of the dayis spent in this work. Then we carry our cargoes down to the beach andcamp for the night. 

While the men are building the camp fire, we discover an iron bake-oven, several tin plates, a part of a boat, and many other fragments, whichdenote that this is the place where Ashley's party was wrecked. 

_June 11. --_This day is spent in carrying our rations down to thebay--no small task, climbing over the rocks with sacks of flour andbacon. We carry them by stages of about 500 yards each, and when nightcomes and the last sack is on the beach, we are tired, bruised, and gladto sleep. 

_June 12. --_To-day we take the boats down to the bay. While at this workwe discover three sacks of flour from the wrecked boat that have lodgedin the rocks. We carry them above high-water mark and leave them, as ourcargoes are already too heavy for the three remaining boats. We alsofind two or three oars, which we place with them. 

As Ashley and his party were wrecked here and as we have lost one of ourboats at the same place, we adopt the name Disaster Falls for the sceneof so much peril and loss. 

Though some of his companions were drowned, Ashley and one othersurvived the wreck, climbed the canyon wall, and found their way acrossthe Wasatch Mountains to Salt Lake City, living chiefly on berries, asthey wandered through an unknown and difficult country. When theyarrived at Salt Lake they were almost destitute of clothing and nearlystarved. The Mormon people gave them food and clothing and employed themto work on the foundation of the Temple until they had earned sufficientto enable them to leave the country. Of their subsequent history, I haveno knowledge. It is possible they returned to the scene of the disaster, as a little creek entering the river below is known as Ashley's Creek, and it is reported that he built a cabin and trapped on this river forone or two winters; but this may have been before the disaster. 

_June 13. _--Rocks, rapids, and portages still. We camp to-night at thefoot of the left fall, on a little patch of flood plain covered with adense growth of box-elders, stopping early in order to spread theclothing and rations to dry. Everything is wet and spoiling. 

_June 14. _--Howland and I climb the wall on the west side of the canyonto an altitude of 2, 000 feet. Standing above and looking to the west, wediscover a large park, five or six miles wide and twenty or thirty long. The cliff we have climbed forms a wall between the canyon and the park, for it is 800 feet down the western side to the valley. A creek comeswinding down 1, 200 feet above the river, and, entering the interveningwall by a canyon, plunges down more than 1, 000 feet, by a brokencascade, into the river below. 

_June 15. _--To-day, while we make another portage, a peak, standing onthe east wall, is climbed by two of the men and found to be 2, 700 feetabove the river. On the east side of the canyon a vast amphitheater hasbeen cut, with massive buttresses and deep, dark alcoves in whichgrow beautiful mosses and delicate ferns, while springs burst out fromthe farther recesses and wind in silver threads over floors of sandrock. Here we have three falls in close succession. At the first thewa$er is compressed into a very narrow channel against the right-handcliff, and falls 15 feet in 10 yards. At the second we have a broadsheet of water tumbling down 20 feet over a group of rocks that thrusttheir dark heads through the foam. The third is a broken fall, or short, abrupt rapid, where the water makes a descent of more than 20 feet amonghuge, fallen fragments of the cliff. We name the group Triplet Falls. Wemake a portage around the first; past the second and the third we letdown with lines. 

During the afternoon, Dunn and Howland having returned from their climb, we run down three quarters of a mile on quiet waters and land at thehead of another fall. On examination, we find that there is an abruptplunge of a few feet and then the river tumbles for half a mile with adescent of a hundred feet, in a channel beset with great numbers of hugeboulders. This stretch of the river is named Hell's Half-Mile. Theremaining portion of the day is occupied in making a trail among therocks at the foot of the rapid. 

_June 16. --_Our first work this morning is to carry our cargoes to thefoot of the falls. Then we commence letting down the boats. We take twoof them down in safety, but not without great difficulty; for, wheresuch a vast body of water, rolling down an inclined plane, is brokeninto eddies and cross-currents by rocks projecting from the cliffs andpiles of boulders in the channel, it requires excessive labor and muchcare to prevent the boats from being dashed against the rocks orbreaking away. Sometimes we are compelled to hold the boat against arock above a chute until a second line, attached to the stem, is carriedto some point below, and when all is ready the first line is detachedand the boat given to the current, when she shoots down and the menbelow swing her into some eddy. 

At such a place we are letting down the last boat, and as she is setfree a wave turns her broadside down the stream, with the stem, to whichthe line is attached, from shore and a little up. They haul on the lineto bring the boat in, but the power of the current, striking obliquelyagainst her, shoots her out into the middle of the river. The men havetheir hands burned with the friction of the passing line; the boatbreaks away and speeds with great velocity down the stream. The "Maid ofthe Canyon" is lost! So it seems; but she drifts some distance andswings into an eddy, in which she spins about until we arrive with thesmall boat and rescue her. 

Soon we are on our way again, and stop at the mouth of a little brook onthe right for a late dinner. This brook comes down from the distantmountains in a deep side canyon. We set out to explore it, but are sooncut off from farther progress up the gorge by a high rock, over whichthe brook glides in a smooth sheet. The rock is not quite vertical, andthe water does not plunge over it in a fall. 

Then we climb up to the left for an hour, and are 1, 000 feet above theriver and 600 above the brook. Just before us the canyon divides, alittle stream coming down on the right and another on the left, and wecan look away up either of these canyons, through an ascending vista, tocliffs and crags and towers a mile back and 2, 000 feet overhead. To theright a dozen gleaming cascades are seen. Pines and firs stand on therocks and aspens overhang the brooks. The rocks below are red and brown, set in deep shadows, but above they are buff and vermilion and stand inthe sunshine. The light above, made more brilliant by the bright-tintedrocks, and the shadows below, more gloomy by reason of the somber huesof the brown walls, increase the apparent depths of the canyons, and itseems a long way up to the world of sunshine and open sky, and a longway down to the bottom of the canyon glooms. Never before have Ireceived such an impression of the vast heights of these canyon walls, not even at the Cliff of the Harp, where the very heavens seemed to reston their summits. We sit on some overhanging rocks and enjoy the scenefor a time, listening to the music of the falling waters away up thecanyon. We name this Rippling Brook. 

Late in the afternoon we make a short run to the mouth of another littlecreek, coming down from the left into an alcove filled with luxuriantvegetation. Here camp is made, with a group of cedars on one side and adense mass of box-elders and dead willows on the other. 

I go up to explore the alcove. While away a whirlwind comes and scattersthe fire among the dead willows and cedar-spray, and soon there is aconflagration. The men rush for the boats, leaving all they cannotreadily seize at the moment, and even then they have their clothingburned and hair singed, and Bradley has his ears scorched. The cookfills his arms with the mess-kit, and jumping into a boat, stumbles andfalls, and away go our cooking utensils into the river. Our plates aregone; our spoons are gone; our knives and forks are gone. "Water catch'em; h-e-a-p catch 'em. "

When on the boats, the men are compelled to cut loose, as the flames, running out on the overhanging willows, are scorching them. Loose on thestream, they must go down, for the water is too swift to make headwayagainst it. Just below is a rapid, filled with rocks. On the shoot, nochannel explored, no signal to guide them! Just at this juncture Ichance to see them, but have not yet discovered the fire, and thestrange movements of the men fill me with astonishment. Down the rocks Iclamber, and run to the bank. When I arrive they have landed. Then weall go back to the late camp to see if anything left behind can besaved. Some of the clothing and bedding taken out of the boats is found, also a few tin cups, basins, and a camp kettle; and this is all themess-kit we now have. Yet we do just as well as ever. 

_June 17. _--We run down to the mouth of Yampa River. This has been achapter of disasters and toils, notwithstanding which the Canyon ofLodore was not devoid of scenic interest, even beyond the powerof pen to tell. The roar of its waters was heard unceasingly from thehour we entered it until we landed here. No quiet in all that time. Butits walls and cliffs, its peaks and crags, its amphitheaters andalcoves, tell a story of beauty and grandeur that I hear yet--and shallhear. 

The Canyon of Lodore is 20 3/4 miles in length. It starts abruptly atwhat we have called the Gate of Lodore, with walls nearly 2, 000 feethigh, and they are never lower than this until we reach Alcove Brook, about three miles above the foot. They are very irregular, standing invertical or overhanging cliffs in places, terraced in others, orreceding in steep slopes, and are broken by many side gulches andcanyons. The highest point on the wall is at Dunn's Cliff, near TripletFalls, where the rocks reach an altitude of 2, 700 feet, but the peaks alittle way back rise nearly 1, 000 feet higher. Yellow pines, nut pines, firs, and cedars stand in extensive forests on the Uinta Mountains, and, clinging to the rocks and growing in the crevices, come down the wallsto the water's edge from Flaming Gorge to Echo Park. The red sandstonesare lichened over; delicate mosses grow in the moist places, and fernsfestoon the walls. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

FROM ECHO PARK TO THE MOUTH OF THE UINTA RIVER. 

The Yampa enters the Green from the east. At a point opposite its mouththe Green runs to the south, at the foot of a rock about 700 feet highand a mile long, and then turns sharply around the rock to the right andruns back in a northerly course parallel to its former direction fornearly another mile, thus having the opposite sides of a long, narrowrock for its bank. The tongue of rock so formed is a peninsularprecipice with a mural escarpment along its whole course on the east, but broken down at places on the west. 

On the east side of the river, opposite the rock and below the Yampa, there is a little park, just large enough for a farm, already fencedwith high walls of gray homogeneous sandstone. There are three riverentrances to this park: one down the Yampa; one below, by coming up theGreen; and another down the Green. There is also a land entrance down alateral canyon. Elsewhere the park is inaccessible. Through this landentrance by the side canyon there is a trail made by Indian hunters, whocome down here in certain seasons to kill mountain sheep. Great hollowdomes are seen in the eastern side of the rock, against which the Greensweeps; willows border the river; clumps of box-elder are seen; and afew cottonwoods stand at the lower end. Standing opposite the rock, ourwords are repeated with startling clearness, but in a soft, mellow tone, that transforms them into magical music. Scarcely can one believe it isthe echo of his own voice. In some places two or three echoes come back;in other places they repeat themselves, passing back and forth acrossthe river between this rock and the eastern wall. To hear these repeatedechoes well, we must shout. Some of the party aver that ten or twelverepetitions can be heard. To me, they seem rapidly to diminish and mergeby multiplicity, like telegraph poles on an outstretched plain. I haveobserved the same phenomenon once before in the cliffs near Long's Peak, and am pleased to meet with it again. 

During the afternoon Bradley and I climb some cliffs to the north. Mountain sheep are seen above us, and they stand out on the rocks andeye us intently, not seeming to move. Their color is much like that ofthe gray sandstone beneath them, and, immovable as they are, they appearlike carved forms. Now a fine ram beats the rock with his fore foot, and, wheeling around, they all bound away together, leaping over rocksand chasms and climbing walls where no man can follow, and this with anease and grace most wonderful. At night we return to our camp under thebox-elders by the river side. Here we are to spend two or three days, making a series of astronomic observations for latitude and longitude. 

_June 18. --_We have named the long peninsular rock on the other sideEcho Rock. Desiring to climb it, Bradley and I take the little boat andpull up stream as far as possible, for it cannot be climbed directlyopposite. We land on a talus of rocks at the upper end in order to reacha place where it seems practicable to make the ascent; but we find wemust go still farther up the river. So we scramble along, until we reacha place where the river sweeps against the wall. Here we find a shelfalong which we can pass, and now are ready for the climb. 

We start up a gulch; then pass to the left on a bench along the wall;then up again over broken rocks; then we reach more benches, along whichwe walk, until we find more broken rocks and crevices, by which weclimb; still up, until we have ascended 600 or 800 feet, when we are metby a sheer precipice. Looking about, we find a place where it seemspossible to climb. I go ahead; Bradley hands the barometer to me, andfollows. So we proceed, stage by stage, until we are nearly to thesummit. Here, by making a spring, I gain a foothold in a little crevice, and grasp an angle of the rock overhead. I find I can get up no fartherand cannot step back, for I dare not let go with my hand and cannotreach foothold below without. I call to Bradley for help. He finds a wayby which he can get to the top of the rock over my head, but cannotreach me. Then he looks around for some stick or limb of a tree, butfinds none. Then he suggests that he would better help me with thebarometer case, but I fear I cannot hold on to it. The moment iscritical. Standing on my toes, my muscles begin to tremble. It is sixtyor eighty feet to the foot of the precipice. If I lose my hold I shallfall to the bottom and then perhaps roll over the bench and tumble stillfarther down the cliff. At this instant it occurs to Bradley to take offhis drawers, which he does, and swings them down to me. I hug close tothe rock, let go with my hand, seize the dangling legs, and with hisassistance am enabled to gain the top. 

Then we walk out on the peninsular rock, make the necessary observationsfor determining its altitude above camp, and return, finding an easy waydown. 

_June 19. --_To-day, Howland, Bradley, and I take the "Emma Dean" andstart up the Yampa River. The stream is much swollen, the current swift, and we are able to make but slow progress against it. The canyon in thispart of the course of the Yampa is cut through light gray sandstone. Theriver is very winding, and the swifter water is usually found on theoutside of the curve, sweeping against vertical cliffs often a thousandfeet high. In the center of these curves, in many places, the rock aboveoverhangs the river. On the opposite side the walls are broken, craggy, and sloping, and occasionally side canyons enter. When we have roweduntil we are quite tired we stop and take advantage of one of thesebroken places to climb out of the canyon. When above, we can look up theYampa for a distance of several miles. From the summit of the immediatewalls of the canyon the rocks rise gently back for a distance of a mileor two, having the appearance of a valley with an irregular and roundedsandstone floor and in the center a deep gorge, which is the canyon. Therim of this valley on the north is from 2, 500 to 3, 000 feet above theriver; on the south it is not so high. A number of peaks stand on thisnorthern rim, the highest of which has received the name Mount Dawes. 

Late in the afternoon we descend to our boat and return to camp in EchoPark, gliding down in twenty minutes on the rapid river, a distance offour or five miles, which was made up stream only by several hours' hardrowing in the morning. 

_June 20. --_This morning two of the men take me up the Yampa for a shortdistance, and I go out to climb. Having reached the top of the canyon, Iwalk over long stretches of naked sandstone, crossing gulches now andthen, and by noon reach the summit of Mount Dawes. From this point I canlook away to the north and see in the dim distance the Sweetwater andWind River mountains, more than 100 miles away. To the northwest theWasatch Mountains are in view, and peaks of the Uinta. To the east I cansee the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains, more than 150 milesdistant. The air is singularly clear to-day; mountains and buttes standin sharp outline, valleys stretch out in perspective, and I can lookdown into the deep canyon gorges and see gleaming waters. 

Descending, I cross to a ridge near the brink of the Canyon of Lodore, the highest point of which is nearly as high as the last mentionedmountain. Late in the afternoon I stand on this elevated point anddiscover a monument that has evidently been built by human hands. A fewplants are growing in the joints between the rocks, and all are lichenedover to a greater or less extent, giving evidence that the pile wasbuilt a long time ago. This line of peaks, the eastern extension of theUinta Mountains, has received the name of Sierra Escalante, in honor ofa Spanish priest who traveled in this region of country nearly a centuryago. Perchance the reverend father built this monument. 

Now I return to the river and discharge my gun, as a signal for the boatto come and take me down to camp. While we have been in the park the menhave succeeded in catching a number of fish, and we have an abundantsupply. This is a delightful addition to our _menu. _

_June 21. --_ We float around the long rock and enter another canyon. Thewalls are high and vertical, the canyon is narrow, and the river fillsthe whole space below, so that there is no landing-place at the foot ofthe cliff. The Green is greatly increased by the Yampa, and we now havea much larger river. All this volume of water, confined, as it is, in anarrow channel and rushing with great velocity, is set eddying andspinning in whirlpools by projecting rocks and short curves, and thewaters waltz their way through the canyon, making their own rippling, rushing, roaring music. The canyon is much narrower than any we haveseen. We manage our boats with difficulty. They spin about from side toside and we know not where we are going, and find it impossible to keepthem headed down the stream. At first this causes us great alarm, but wesoon find there is little danger, and that there is a general movementor progression down the river, to which this whirling is but anadjunct--that it is the merry mood of the river to dance through thisdeep, dark gorge, and right gaily do we join in the sport. 

But soon our revel is interrupted by a cataract; its roaring command isheeded by all our power at the oars, and we pull against the whirlingcurrent. The "Emma Dean" is brought up against a cliff about 50 feetabove the brink of the fall. By vigorously plying the oars on the sideopposite the wall, as if to pull up stream, we can hold her against therock. The boats behind are signaled to land where they can. The "Maidof the Canyon" is pulled to the left wall, and, by constant rowing, theycan hold her also. The "Sister" is run into an alcove on the right, where an eddy is in a dance, and in this she joins. Now my little boatis held against the wall only by the utmost exertion, and it isimpossible to make headway against the current. On examination, I find ahorizontal crevice in the rock, about 10 feet above the water and aboat's length below us; so we let her down to that point. One of the menclambers into the crevice, into which he can just crawl; we toss himthe line, which he makes fast in the rocks, and now our boat is tied up. Then I follow into the crevice and we crawl along up stream a distanceof 50 feet or more, and find a broken place where we can climb about 50feet higher. Here we stand on a shelf that passes along down stream to apoint above the falls, where it is broken down, and a pile of rocks, over which we can descend to the river, is lying against the foot of thecliff. 

It has been mentioned that one of the boats is on the other side. Isignal for the men to pull her up alongside of the wall, but it cannotbe done; then to cross. This they do, gaining the wall on our side justabove where the "Emma Dean" is tied. 

The third boat is out of sight, whirling in the eddy of a recess. Looking about, I find another horizontal crevice, along which I crawl toa point just over the water where this boat is lying, and, calling loudand long, I finally succeed in making the crew understand that I wantthem to bring the boat down, hugging the wall. This they accomplish bytaking advantage of every crevice and knob on the face of the cliff, sothat we have the three boats together at a point a few yards above thefalls. Now, by passing a line up on the shelf, the boats can be let downto the broken rocks below. This we do, and, making a short portage, ourtroubles here are over. 

Below the falls the canyon is wider, and there is more or less spacebetween the river and the walls; but the stream, though wide, is rapid, and rolls at a fearful rate among the rocks. We proceed with greatcaution, and run the large boats wholly by signal. 

At night we camp at the mouth of a small creek, which affords us a goodsupper of trout. In camp to-night we discuss the propriety of severaldifferent names for this canyon. At the falls encountered at noon itscharacteristics change suddenly. Above, it is very narrow, and the wallsare almost vertical; below, the canyon is much wider and more flaring, and high up on the sides crags, pinnacles, and towers are seen. A numberof wild and narrow side canyons enter, and the walls are much broken. After many suggestions our choice rests between two names, WhirlpoolCanyon and Craggy Canyon, neither of which is strictly appropriate forboth parts of it; so we leave the discussion at this point, with theunderstanding that it is best, before finally deciding on a name, towait until we see what the character of the canyon is below. 

_June 22. _--Still making short portages and letting down with lines. While we are waiting for dinner to-day, I climb a point that gives me agood view of the river for two or three miles below, and I think we canmake a long run. After dinner we start; the large boats are to follow infifteen minutes and look out for the signal to land. Into the middle ofthe stream we row, and down the rapid river we glide, only makingstrokes enough with the oars to guide the boat. What a headlong ride itis! shooting past rocks and islands. I am soon filled with exhilarationonly experienced before in riding a fleet horse over the outstretchedprairie. One, two, three, four miles we go, rearing and plunging withthe waves, until we wheel to the right into a beautiful park and land onan island, where we go into camp. 

An hour or two before sunset I cross to the mainland and climb a pointof rocks where I can overlook the park and its surroundings. On the eastit is bounded by a high mountain ridge. A semicircle of naked hillsbounds it on the north, west, and south. 

The broad, deep river meanders through the park, interrupted by manywooded islands; so I name it Island Park, and decide to call the canyonabove, Whirlpool Canyon. 

_June 23. --_We remain in camp to-day to repair our boats, which have hadhard knocks and are leaking. Two of the men go out with the barometer toclimb the cliff at the foot of Whirlpool Canyon and measure the walls;another goes on the mountain to hunt; and Bradley and I spend the dayamong the rocks, studying an interesting geologic fold and collectingfossils. Late in the afternoon the hunter returns and brings with him afine, fat deer; so we give his name to the mountain--Mount Hawkins. Justbefore night we move camp to the lower end of the park, floating downthe river about four miles. 

_June 24. --_Bradley and I start early to climb the mountain ridge to theeast, and find its summit to be nearly 3, 000 feet above camp. It hasrequired some labor to scale it; but on its top, what a view! There is along spur running out from the Uinta Mountains toward the south, and theriver runs lengthwise through it. Coming down Lodore and Whirlpoolcanyons, we cut through the southern slope of the Uinta Mountains; andthe lower end of this latter canyon runs into the spur, but, instead ofsplitting it the whole length, the river wheels to the right at the footof Whirlpool Canyon in a great curve to the northwest through IslandPark. At the lower end of the park, the river turns again to thesoutheast and cuts into the mountain to its center and then makes adetour to the southwest, splitting the mountain ridge for a distance ofsix miles nearly to its foot, and then turns out of it to the left. Allthis we can see where we stand on the summit of Mount Hawkins, and so wename the gorge below, Split Mountain Canyon. 

We are standing 3, 000 feet above the waters, which are troubled withbillows and are white with foam. The walls are set with crags and peaksand buttressed towers and overhanging domes. Turning to the right, thepark is below us, its island groves reflected by the deep, quiet waters. Rich meadows stretch out on either hand to the verge of a sloping plainthat comes down from the distant mountains. These plains are of almostnaked rock, in strange contrast to the meadows, --blue and lilac coloredrocks, buff and pink, vermilion and brown, and all these colors clearand bright. A dozen little creeks, dry the greater part of the year, rundown through the half circle of exposed formations, radiating from theisland center to the rim of the basin. Each creek has its system ofside streams and each side stream has its system of laterals, and againthese are divided; so that this outstretched slope of rock iselaborately embossed. Beds of different-colored formations run inparallel bands on either side. The perspective, modified by theundulations, gives the bands a waved appearance, and the high colorsgleam in the midday sun with the luster of satin. We are tempted to callthis Rainbow Park. Away beyond these beds are the Uinta and Wasatchmountains with their pine forests and snow fields and naked peaks. Nowwe turn to the right and look up Whirlpool Canyon, a deep gorge with ariver at the bottom--a gloomy chasm, where mad waves roar; but at thisdistance and altitude the river is but a rippling brook, and the chasm anarrow cleft. The top of the mountain on which we stand is a broad, grassy table, and a herd of deer are feeding in the distance. Walkingover to the southeast, we look down into the valley of White River, andbeyond that see the far-distant Rocky Mountains, in mellow, perspectivehaze, through which snow fields shine. 

_June 25. --_This morning we enter Split Mountain Canyon, sailing inthrough a broad, flaring, brilliant gateway. We run two or three rapids, after they have been carefully examined. Then we have a series of six oreight, over which we are compelled to pass by letting the boats downwith lines. This occupies the entire day, and we camp at night at themouth of a great cave. The cave is at the foot of one of these rapids, and the waves dash in nearly to its end. We can pass along a littleshelf at the side until we reach the back part. Swallows have builttheir nests in the ceiling, and they wheel in, chattering and scoldingat our intrusion; but their clamor is almost drowned by the noise of thewaters. Looking out of the cave, we can see, far up the river, a line ofcrags standing sentinel on either side, and Mount Hawkins in thedistance. 

_June 26. _--The forenoon is spent in getting our large boats over therapids. This afternoon we find three falls in close succession. We carryour rations over the rocks and let our boats shoot over the falls, checking and bringing them to land with lines in the eddies below. Atthree o'clock we are all aboard again. Down the river we are carried bythe swift waters at great speed, sheering around a rock now and thenwith a timely stroke or two of the oars. At one point the river turnsfrom left to right, in a direction at right angles to the canyon, in along chute and strikes the right, where its waters are heaped up ingreat billows that tumble back in breakers. We glide into the chutebefore we see the danger, and it is too late to stop. Two or three hardstrokes are given on the right and we pause for an instant, expecting tobe dashed against the rock. But the bow of the boat leaps high on agreat wave, the rebounding waters hurl us back, and the peril is past. The next moment the other boats are hurriedly signaled to land on theleft. Accomplishing this, the men walk along the shore, holding theboats near the bank, and let them drift around. Starting again, we soondebouch into a beautiful valley, glide down its length for 10 miles, andcamp under a grand old cottonwood. This is evidently a frequent resortfor Indians. Tent poles are lying about, and the dead embers of latecamp fires are seen. On the plains to the left, antelope are feeding. Now and then a wolf is seen, and after dark they make the air resoundwith their howling. 

_June 27. --_Now our way is along a gently flowing river, beset with manyislands; groves are seen on either side, and natural meadows, whereherds of antelope are feeding. Here and there we have views of thedistant mountains on the right. During the afternoon we make a longdetour to the west and return again to a point not more than half a milefrom where we started at noon, and here we camp for the night under ahigh bluff. _June 28. --_To-day the scenery on either side of the riveris much the same as that of yesterday, except that two or three lakesare discovered, lying in the valley to the west. After dinner we run buta few minutes when we discover the mouth of the Uinta, a river coming infrom the west. Up the valley of this stream about 40 miles thereservation of the Uinta Indians is situated. We propose to go there andsee if we can replenish our mess-kit, and perhaps send letters tofriends. We also desire to establish an astronomic station here; andhence this will be our stopping place for several days. 

Some years ago Captain Berthoud surveyed a stage route from Salt LakeCity to Denver, and this is the place where he crossed the Green River. His party was encamped here for some time, constructing a ferry boat andopening a road. 

A little above the mouth of the Uinta, on the west side of the Green, there is a lake of several thousand acres. We carry our boat across thedivide between this and the river, have a row on its quiet waters, andsucceed in shooting several ducks. 

_June 29. --_A mile and three quarters from here is the junction of theWhite River with the Green. The White has its source far to the east inthe Rocky Mountains. This morning I cross the Green and go over into thevalley of the White and extend my walk several miles along its windingway, until at last I come in sight of some strangely carved rocks, namedby General Hughes, in his journal, "Goblin City. " Our last winter's campwas situated a hundred miles above the point reached to-day. The courseof the river, for much of the distance, is through canyons; but at someplaces valleys are found. Excepting these little valleys, the region isone of great desolation: arid, almost treeless, with bluffs, hills, ledges of rock, and drifting sands. Along the course of the Green, however, from the foot of Split Mountain Canyon to a point some distancebelow the mouth of the Uinta, there are many groves of cottonwood, natural meadows, and rich lands. This arable belt extends some distanceup the White River on the east and the Uinta on the west, and the timemust soon come when settlers will penetrate this country and make homes. 

_June 30. --_We have a row up the Uinta to-day, but are not able to makemuch headway against the swift current, and hence conclude we must walkall the way to the agency. 

_July 1. --_Two days have been employed in obtaining the local time, taking observations for latitude and longitude, and making excursionsinto the adjacent country. This morning, with two of the men, I startfor the agency. It is a toilsome walk, 20 miles of the distance beingacross a sand desert. Occasionally we have to wade the river, crossingit back and forth. Toward evening we cross several beautiful streams, tributaries of the Uinta, and pass through pine groves and meadows, arriving at the reservation just at dusk. Captain Dodds, the agent, isaway, having gone to Salt Lake City, but his assistants receive us verykindly. It is rather pleasant to see a house once more, and someevidences of civilization, even if it is on an Indian reservationseveral days' ride from the nearest home of the white man. 

_July 2. _--I go this morning to visit Tsauwiat. This old chief is but thewreck of a man, and no longer has influence. Looking at him one canscarcely realize that he is a man. His skin is shrunken, wrinkled, anddry, and seems to cover no more than a form of bones. He is said to bemore than 100 years old. I talk a little with him, but his conversationis incoherent, though he seems to take pride in showing me some medalsthat must have been given him many years ago. He has a pipe which hesays he has used a long time. I offer to exchange with him, and he seemsto be glad to accept; so I add another to my collection of pipes. Hiswife, "The Bishop, " as she is called, is a very garrulous old woman; sheexerts a great influence, and is much revered. She is the only Indianwoman I have known to occupy a place in the council ring. She seemsvery much younger than her husband, and, though wrinkled and ugly, isstill vigorous. She has much to say to me concerning the condition ofthe people, and seems very anxious that they should learn to cultivatethe soil, own farms, and live like white men. After talking a couple ofhours with these old people, I go to see the farms. They are situated ina very beautiful district, where many fine streams of water meanderacross alluvial plains and meadows. These creeks have a considerablefall, and it is easy to take their waters out above and overflow thelands with them. 

It will be remembered that irrigation is necessary in this dry climateto successful farming. Quite a number of Indians have each a patch ofground of two or three acres, on which they are raising wheat, potatoes, turnips, pumpkins, melons, and other vegetables. Most of the crops arelooking well, and it is rather surprising with what pride they show usthat they are able to cultivate crops like white men. They are stilloccupying lodges, and refuse to build houses, assigning as a reason thatwhen any one dies in a lodge it is always abandoned, and very oftenburned with all the effects of the deceased; and when houses have beenbuilt for them the houses have been treated in the same way. With theirunclean habits, a fixed residence would doubtless be no pleasant place. 

This beautiful valley has been the home of a people of a higher grade ofcivilization than the present Utes. Evidences of this are quiteabundant; on our way here yesterday we discovered fragmentsof pottery in many places along the trail; and, wandering about thelittle farms to-day, I find the foundations of ancient houses, andmealing-stones that were not used by nomadic people, as they are tooheavy to be transported by such tribes, and are deeply worn. TheIndians, seeing that I am interested in these matters, take pains toshow me several other places where these evidences remain, and tell methat they know nothing about the people who formerly dwelt here. Theyfurther tell me that up in the canyon the rocks are covered withpictures. 

_July 5. --_The last two days have been spent in studying the languageof the Indians and in making collections of articles illustrating thestate of arts among them. 

Frank Goodman informs me this morning that he has concluded not to go onwith the party, saying that he has seen danger enough. It will beremembered that he was one of the crew on the "No Name" when she waswrecked. As our boats are rather heavily loaded, I am content that heshould leave, although he has been a faithful man. 

We start early on our return to the boats, taking horses with us fromthe reservation, and two Indians, who are to bring the animals back. 

Whirlpool Canyon is 14 1/4 miles in length, the walls varying from 1, 800to 2, 400 feet in height. The course of the river through Island Park is9 miles. Split Mountain Canyon is 8 miles long. The highest crags on itswalls reach an altitude above the river of from 2, 500 to 2, 700 feet. Inthese canyons cedars only are found on the walls. 

The distance by river from the foot of Split Mountain Canyon to themouth of the Uinta is 67 miles. The valley through which it runs is thehome of many antelope, and we have adopted for it the Indian nameWon'sits Yuav--Antelope Valley. 

CHAPTER IX. 

FROM THE MOUTH OF THE UINTA RIVER TO THE JUNCTION OF THEGRAND AND GREEN. 

_July 6_. --An early start this morning. A short distance below the mouthof the Uinta we come to the head of a long island. Last winter a mannamed Johnson, a hunter and Indian trader, visited us at our camp inWhite River Valley. This man has an Indian wife, and, having no fixedhome, usually travels with one of the Ute bands. He informed me that itwas his intention to plant some corn, potatoes, and other vegetables onthis island in the spring, and, knowing that we would pass it, invitedus to stop and help ourselves, even if he should not be there; so weland and go out on the island. Looking about, we soon discover hisgarden, but it is in a sad condition, having received no care since itwas planted. It is yet too early in the season for corn, but Hallsuggests that potato tops are good greens, and, anxious for some changefrom our salt-meat fare, we gather a quantity and take them aboard. Atnoon we stop and cook our greens for dinner; but soon one after anotherof the party is taken sick; nausea first, and then severe vomiting, andwe tumble around under the trees, groaning with pain. I feel a littlealarmed, lest our poisoning be severe. Emetics are administered to thosewho are willing to take them, and about the middle of the afternoon weare all rid of the pain. Jack Sumner records in his diary that "potatotops are not good greens on the 6th day of July. "

This evening we enter another canyon, almost imperceptibly, as the wallsrise very gently. 

_July 7. _--We find quiet water to-day, the river sweeping in great andbeautiful curves, the canyon walls steadily increasing in altitude. Theescarpments formed by the cut edges of the rock are often vertical, sometimes terraced, and in some places the treads of the terracesare sloping. In these quiet curves vast amphitheaters are formed, now invertical rocks, now in steps. 

The salient point of rock within the curve is usually broken down in asteep slope, and we stop occasionally to climb up at such a place, whereon looking down we can see the river sweeping the foot of the oppositecliff in a great, easy curve, with a perpendicular or terraced wallrising from the water's edge many hundreds of feet. One of these we findvery symmetrical and name it Sumner's Amphitheater. The cliffs arerarely broken by the entrance of side canyons, and we sweep around curveafter curve with almost continuous walls for several miles. 

Late in the afternoon we find the river very much rougher and come uponrapids, not dangerous, but still demanding close attention. We camp atnight on the right bank, having made 26 miles. _July 8. --_This morningBradley and I go out to climb, and gain an altitude of more than 2, 000feet above the river, but still do not reach the summit of the wall. 

After dinner we pass through a region of the wildest desolation. Thecanyon is very tortuous, the river very rapid, and many lateral canyonsenter on either side. These usually have their branches, so that theregion is cut into a wilderness of gray and brown cliffs. In severalplaces these lateral canyons are separated from one another only bynarrow walls, often hundreds of feet high, --so narrow in places thatwhere softer rocks are found below they have crumbled away and leftholes in the wall, forming passages from one canyon into another. Thesewe often call natural bridges; but they were never intended to spanstreams. They would better, perhaps, be called side doors between canyonchambers. Piles of broken rock lie against these walls; crags andtower-shaped peaks are seen everywhere, and away above them, long linesof broken cliffs; and above and beyond the cliffs are pine forests, ofwhich we obtain occasional glimpses as we look up through a vista ofrocks. The walls are almost without vegetation; a few dwarf bushes areseen here and there clinging to the rocks, and cedars grow from thecrevices--not like the cedars of a land refreshed with rains, greatcones bedecked with spray, but ugly clumps, like war clubs beset withspines. We are minded to call this the Canyon of Desolation. 

The wind annoys us much to-day. The water, rough by reason of therapids, is made more so by head gales. Wherever a great face of rockshas a southern exposure, the rarefied air rises and the wind rushes inbelow, either up or down the canyon, or both, causing local currents. Just at sunset we run a bad rapid and camp at its foot. 

_July 9. --_Our run to-day is through a canyon with ragged, broken walls, many lateral gulches or canyons entering on either side. The river isrough, and occasionally it becomes necessary to use lines in passingrocky places. During the afternoon we come to a rather open canyonvalley, stretching up toward the west, its farther end lost in themountains. From a point to which we climb we obtain a good view of itscourse, until its angular walls are lost in the vista. 

_July 10. --_Sumner, who is a fine mechanic, is learning to takeobservations for time with the sextant. To-day he remains in camp topractice. Howland and I determine to climb out, and start up a lateralcanyon, taking a barometer with us for the purpose of measuring thethickness of the strata over which we pass. The readings of thebarometer below are recorded every half hour and our observations mustbe simultaneous. Where the beds which we desire to measure are verythick, we must climb with the utmost speed to reach their summits intime; where the beds are thinner, we must wait for the moment to arrive;and so, by hard and easy stages, we make our way to the top of thecanyon wall and reach the plateau above about two o' clock. 

Howland, who has his gun with him, sees deer feeding a mile or two backand goes off for a hunt. I go to a peak which seems to be the highestone in this region, about half a mile distant, and climb, for-thepurpose of tracing the topography of the adjacent country. From thispoint a fine view is obtained. A long plateau stretches across the riverin an easterly and westerly direction, the summit covered by pineforests, with intervening elevated valleys and gulches. The plateauitself is cut in two by the canyon. Other side canyons head away backfrom the river and run down into the Green. Besides these, deep andabrupt canyons are seen to head back on the plateau and run north towardthe Uinta and White rivers. Still other canyons head in the valleys andrun toward the south. The elevation of the plateau being about 8, 000feet above the level of the sea, it is in a region of moisture, as iswell attested by the forests and grassy valleys. The plateau seems torise gradually to the west, until it merges into the Wasatch Mountains. On these high table-lands elk and deer abound; and they are favoritehunting grounds for the Ute Indians. 

A little before sunset Howland and I meet again at the head of the sidecanyon, and down we start. It is late, and we must make great haste orbe caught by the darkness; so we go, running where we can, leaping overthe ledges, letting each other down on the loose rocks, as long as wecan see. When darkness comes we are still some distance from camp, and along, slow, anxious descent is made toward the gleaming camp fire. 

After supper, observations for latitude are taken, and only two or threehours for sleep remain before daylight. 

_July 11. --_ A short distance below camp we run a rapid, and in doing sobreak an oar and then lose another, both belonging to the "Emma Dean. "Now the pioneer boat has but two oars. We see nothing from which oarscan be made, so we conclude to run on to some point where it seemspossible to climb out to the forests on the plateau, and there we willprocure suitable timber from which to make new ones. 

We soon approach another rapid. Standing on deck, I think it can be run, and on we go. Coming nearer, I see that at the foot it has a short turnto the left, where the waters pile up against the cliff. Here we try toland, but quickly discover that, being in swift water above the fall, wecannot reach shore, crippled as we are by the loss of two oars; so thebow of the boat is turned down stream. We shoot by a big rock; a reflexwave rolls over our little boat and fills her. I see that the place isdangerous and quickly signal to the other boats to land where they can. This is scarcely completed when another wave rolls our boat over and Iam thrown some distance into the water. I soon find that swimming isvery easy and I cannot sink. It is only necessary to ply strokessufficient to keep my head out of the water, though now and then, when abreaker rolls over me, I close my mouth and am carried through it. Theboat is drifting ahead of me 20 or 30 feet, and when the great waveshave passed I overtake her and find Sumner and Dunn clinging to her. Assoon as we reach quiet water we all swim to one side and turn her over. In doing this, Dunn loses his hold and goes under; when he comes up heis caught by Sumner and pulled to the boat. In the meantime we havedrifted down stream some distance and see another rapid below. How badit may be we cannot tell; so we swim toward shore, pulling our boat withus, with all the vigor possible, but are carried down much faster thandistance toward shore is diminished. At last we reach a huge pile ofdriftwood. Our rolls of blankets, two guns, and a barometer were in theopen compartment of the boat and, when it went over, these were thrownout. The guns and barometer are lost, but I succeeded in catching one ofthe rolls of blankets as it drifted down, when we were swimming toshore; the other two are lost, and sometimes hereafter we may sleepcold. 

A huge fire is built on the bank and our clothing spread to dry, andthen from the drift logs we select one from which we think oars can bemade, and the remainder of the day is spent in sawing them out. 

_July 12. --_This morning the new oars are finished and we start oncemore. We pass several bad rapids, making a short portage at one, andbefore noon we come to a long, bad fall, where the channel is filledwith rocks on the left which turn the waters to the right, where theypass under an overhanging rock. On examination we determine to run it, keeping as close to the left-hand rocks as safety will permit, in orderto avoid the overhanging cliff. The little boat runs over all right;another follows, but the men are not able to keep her near enough to theleft bank and she is carried by a swift chute into great waves to theright, where she is tossed about and Bradley is knocked over the side;his foot catching under the seat, he is dragged along in the water withhis head down; making great exertion, he seizes the gunwale with hisleft hand and can lift his head above water now and then. To us who arebelow, it seems impossible to keep the boat from going under theoverhanging cliff; but Powell, for the moment heedless of Bradley'smishap, pulls with all his power for half a dozen strokes, when thedanger is past; then he seizes Bradley and pulls him in. The men in theboat above, seeing this, land, and she is let down by lines. 

Just here we emerge from the Canyon of Desolation, as we have named it, into a more open country, which extends for a distance of nearly a mile, when we enter another canyon cut through gray sandstone. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon we meet with a new difficulty. Theriver fills the entire channel; the walls are vertical on either sidefrom the water's edge, and a bad rapid is beset with rocks. We come tothe head of it and land on a rock in the stream. The little boat is letdown to another rock below, the men of the larger boat holding to theline; the second boat is let down in the same way, and the line of thethird boat is brought with them. Now the third boat pushes out from theupper rock, and, as we have her line below, we pull in and catch her asshe is sweeping by at the foot of the rock on which we stand. Again thefirst boat is let down stream the full length of her line and the secondboat is passed down, by the first to the extent of her line, which isheld by the men in the first boat; so she is two lines' length fromwhere she started. Then the third boat is let down past the second, andstill down, nearly to the length of her line, so that she is fast to thesecond boat and swinging down three lines' lengths, with the other twoboats intervening. Held in this way, the men are able to pull her into acove in the left wall, where she is made fast. But this leaves a man onthe rock above, holding to the line of the little boat. When all isready, he springs from the rock, clinging to the line with one hand andswimming with the other, and we pull him in as he goes by. As the twoboats, thus loosened, drift down, the men in the cove pull us all in aswe come opposite; then we pass around to a point of rock below the cove, close to the wall, land, make a short portage over the worst places inthe rapid, and start again. 

At night we camp on a sand beach. The wind blows a hurricane; thedrifting sand almost blinds us; and nowhere can we find shelter. Thewind continues to blow all night, the sand sifting through our blanketsand piling over us until we are covered as in a snowdrift. We are gladwhen morning comes. 

_July 13. --_This morning we have an exhilarating ride. The river isswift, and there are many smooth rapids. I stand on deck, keepingcareful watch ahead, and we glide along, mile after mile, plyingstrokes, now on the right and then on the left, just sufficient to guideour boats past the rocks into smooth water. At noon we emerge from GrayCanyon, as we have named it, and camp for dinner under a cotton-woodtree standing on the left bank. 

Extensive sand plains extend back from the immediate river valley as faras we can see on either side. These naked, drifting sands gleambrilliantly in the midday sun of July. The reflected heat from theglaring surface produces a curious motion of the atmosphere; littlecurrents are generated and the whole seems to be trembling and movingabout in many directions, or, failing to see that the movement is in theatmosphere, it gives the impression of an unstable land. Plains andhills and cliffs and distant mountains seem to be floating vaguely aboutin a trembling, wave-rocked sea, and patches of landscape seem to floataway and be lost, and then to reappear. 

Just opposite, there are buttes, outliers of cliffs to the left. Below, they are composed of shales and marls of light blue and slate colors;above, the rocks are buff and gray, and then brown. The buttes arebuttressed below, where the azure rocks are seen, and terraced abovethrough the gray and brown beds. A long line of cliffs or rockescarpments separates the table-lands through which Gray Canyon is cut, from the lower plain. The eye can trace these azure beds and cliffs oneither side of the river, in a long line extending across its course, until they fade away in the perspective. These cliffs are many miles inlength and hundreds of feet high; and all these buttes--greatmountain-masses of rock--are dancing and fading away and reappearing, softly moving about, --or so they seem to the eye as seen through theshifting atmosphere. 

This afternoon our way is through a valley with cottonwood groves oneither side. The river is deep, broad, and quiet. About two hours afternoon camp we discover an Indian crossing, where a number of rafts, rudely constructed of logs and bound together by withes, arefloating against the bank. On landing, we see evidences that a party ofIndians have crossed within a very few days. This is the place where thelamented Gunnison crossed, in the year 1853, when making an explorationfor a railroad route to the Pacific coast. 

An hour later we run a long rapid and stop at its foot to examine someinteresting rocks, deposited by mineral springs that at one time musthave existed here, but which are no longer flowing. 

_July 14. --_ This morning we pass some curious black bluffs on theright, then two or three short canyons, and then we discover the mouthof the San Rafael, a stream which comes down from the distant mountainsin the west. Here we stop for an hour or two and take a short walk upthe valley, and find it is a frequent resort for Indians. Arrowheads arescattered about, many of them very beautiful; flint chips are strewnover the ground in great profusion, and the trails are well worn. 

Starting after dinner, we pass some beautiful buttes on the left, manyof which are very symmetrical. They are chiefly composed of gypsum, ofmany hues, from light gray to slate color; then pink, purple, and brownbeds. Now we enter another canyon. Gradually the walls rise higher andhigher as we proceed, and the summit of the canyon is formed of the samebeds of orange-colored sandstone. Back from the brink the hollows of theplateau are filled with sands disintegrated from these orange beds. Theyare of a rich cream color, shading into maroon, everywhere destitute ofvegetation, and drifted into long, wave-like ridges. 

The course of the river is tortuous, and it nearly doubles upon itselfmany times. The water is quiet, and constant rowing is necessary to makemuch headway. Sometimes there is a narrow flood plain between the riverand the wall, on one side or the other. Where these long, gentle curvesare found, the river washes the very foot of the outer wall. A longpeninsula of willow-bordered meadow projects within the curve, and thetalus at the foot of the cliff is usually covered with dwarf oaks. Theorange-colored sandstone is homogeneous in structure, and the walls areusually vertical, though not very high. Where the river sweeps around acurve under a cliff, a vast hollow dome may be seen, with many caves anddeep alcoves, which are greatly admired by the members of the party aswe go by. 

We camp at night on the left bank. 

_July 15. _---Our camp is in a great bend of the canyon. The curve is tothe west and we are on the east side of the river. Just opposite, alittle stream comes down through a narrow side canyon. We cross and goup to explore it. At its mouth another lateral canyon enters, in theangle between the former and the main canyon above. Still another entersin the angle between the canyon below and the side canyon firstmentioned; so that three side canyons enter at the same point. Thesecanyons are very tortuous, almost closed in from view, and, seen fromthe opposite side of the river, they appear like three alcoves. We namethis Trin-Alcove Bend. 

Going up the little stream in the central cove, we pass between highwalls of sandstone, and wind about in glens. Springs gush from the rocksat the foot of the walls; narrow passages in the rocks are threaded, caves are entered, and many side canyons are observed. 

The right cove is a narrow, winding gorge, with overhanging walls, almost shutting out the light. The left is an amphitheater, turningspirally up, with overhanging shelves. A series of basins filled withwater are seen at different altitudes as we pass up; huge rocks arepiled below on the right, and overhead there is an arched ceiling. Afterexploring these alcoves, we recross the river and climb the roundedrocks on the point of the bend. In every direction, as far as we areable to see, naked rocks appear. Buttes are scattered on the landscape, here rounded into cones, there buttressed, columned, and carved inquaint shapes, with deep alcoves and sunken recesses. All about us arebasins, excavated in the soft sandstone; and these have been filled bythe late rains. 

Over the rounded rocks and water pockets we look off on a fine Stretchof river, and beyond are naked rocks and beautiful buttes leading theeye to the Azure Cliffs, and beyond these and above them the BrownCliffs, and still beyond, mountain peaks; and clouds piled over all. 

On we go, after dinner, with quiet water, still compelled to row inorder to make fair progress. The canyon is yet very tortuous. About sixmiles below noon camp we go around a great bend to the right, five milesin length, and come back to a point within a quarter of a mile of wherewe started. Then we sweep around another great bend to the left, makinga circuit of nine miles, and come back to a point within 600 yards ofthe beginning of the bend. In the two circuits we describe almost thefigure 8. The men call it a "bowknot" of river; so we name it BowknotBend. The line of the figure is 14 miles in length. 

There is an exquisite charm in our ride to-day down this beautifulcanyon. It gradually grows deeper with every mile of travel; the wallsare symmetrically curved and grandly arched, of a beautiful color, andreflected in the quiet waters in many places so as almost to deceive theeye and suggest to the beholder the thought that he is looking intoprofound depths. We are all in fine spirits and feel very gay, and thebadinage of the men is echoed from wall to wall. Now and then we whistleor shout or discharge a pistol, to listen to the reverberations amongthe cliffs. 

At night we camp on the south side of the great Bowknot, and aswe eat supper, which is spread on the beach, we name this LabyrinthCanyon. 

_July 16. --_Still we go down on our winding way. Tower cliffs arepassed; then the river widens out for several miles, and meadows areseen on either side between the river and the walls. We name thisexpansion of the river Tower Park. At two o'clock we emerge fromLabyrinth Canyon and go into camp. 

_July 17. _--The line which separates Labyrinth Canyon from the one belowis but a line, and at once, this morning, we enter another canyon. Thewater fills the entire channel, so that nowhere is there room to land. The walls are low, but vertical, and as we proceed they graduallyincrease in altitude. Running a couple of miles, the river changes itscourse many degrees toward the east. Just here a little stream comes inon the right and the wall is broken down; so we land and go out to takea view of the surrounding country. We are now down among the buttes, andin a region the surface of which is naked, solid rock--a beautiful redsandstone, forming a smooth, undulating pavement. The Indians call thisthe _Toom'pin Tuweap', _ or "Rock Land, " and sometimes the _Toom'pinwunear'l Tuweap', _ or "Land of Standing Rock. "

Off to the south we see a butte in the form of a fallen cross. It isseveral miles away, but it presents no inconspicuous figure on thelandscape and must be many hundreds of feet high, probably more than2, 000. We note its position on our map and name it "The Butte of theCross. "

We continue our journey. In many places the walls, which rise from thewater's edge, are overhanging on either side. The stream is still quiet, and we glide along through a strange, weird, grand region. The landscapeeverywhere, away from the river, is of rock--cliffs of rock, tables ofrock, plateaus of rock, terraces of rock, crags of rock--ten thousandstrangely carved forms; rocks everywhere, and no vegetation, no soil, nosand. In long, gentle curves the river winds about these rocks. 

When thinking of these rocks one must not conceive of piles of bouldersor heaps of fragments, but of a whole land of naked rock, with giantforms carved on it: cathedral-shaped buttes, towering hundreds orthousands of feet, cliffs that cannot be scaled, and canyon walls thatshrink the river into insignificance, with vast, hollow domes and tallpinnacles and shafts set on the verge overhead; and all highlycolored--buff, gray, red, brown, and chocolate--never lichened, nevermoss-covered, but bare, and often polished. 

We pass a place where two bends of the river come together, anintervening rock having been worn away and a new channel formed across. The old channel ran in a great circle around to the right, by what wasonce a circular peninsula, then an island; then the water left the oldchannel entirely and passed through the cut, and the old bed of theriver is dry. So the great circular rock stands by itself, withprecipitous walls all about it, and we find but one place where it canbe scaled. Looking from its summit, a long stretch of river is seen, sweeping close to the overhanging cliffs on the right, but having alittle meadow between it and the wall on the left. The curve is verygentle and regular. We name this Bonita Bend. 

And just here we climb out once more, to take another bearing on TheButte of the Cross. Reaching an eminence from which we can overlook thelandscape, we are surprised to find that our butte, with its wonderfulform, is indeed two buttes, one so standing in front of the other thatfrom our last point of view it gave the appearance of a cross. 

A few miles below Bonita Bend we go out again a mile or two among therocks, toward the Orange Cliffs, passing over terraces paved withjasper. The cliffs are not far away and we soon reach them, and wanderin some deep, painted alcoves which attracted our attention from theriver; then we return to our boats. 

Late in the afternoon the water becomes swift and our boats make greatspeed. . An hour of this rapid running brings us to the junction of theGrand and Green, the foot of Stillwater Canyon, as we have named it. These streams-unite in solemn depths, more than 1, 200 feet below thegeneral surface of the country. The walls of the lower end of StillwaterCanyon are very beautifully curved, as the river sweeps in itsmeandering course. The lower end of the canyon through which the Grandcomes down is also regular, but much more direct, and we look up thisstream and out into the country beyond and obtain glimpses of snow-cladpeaks, the summits of a group of mountains known as the Sierra La Sal. Down the Colorado the canyon walls are much broken. 

We row around into the Grand and camp on its northwest bank; and here wepropose to stay several days, for the purpose of determining thelatitude and longitude and the altitude of the walls. Much of the nightis spent in making observations with the sextant. 

The distance from the mouth of the Uinta to the head of the Canyon ofDesolation is 20 3/4 miles. The Canyon of Desolation is 97 miles long;Gray Canyon, 36 miles. The course of the river through Gunnison Valleyis 27 1/4 miles; Labyrinth Canyon, 62 1/2 miles. 

In the Canyon of Desolation the highest rocks immediately over the riverare about 2, 400 feet. This is at Log Cabin Cliff. The highest part ofthe terrace is near the brink of the Brown Cliffs. Climbing theimmediate walls of the canyon and passing back to the canyon terrace andclimbing that, we find the altitude above the river to be 3, 300 feet. The lower end of Gray Canyon is about 2, 000 feet; the lower end ofLabyrinth Canyon, 1, 300 feet. 

Stillwater Canyon is 42 3/4 miles long; the highest walls, 1, 300 feet. 

CHAPTER X. 

FROM THE JUNCTION OF THE GRAND AND GREEN TO THE MOUTH OF THE LITTLECOLORADO. 

_July 18_. --The day is spent in obtaining the time and spreading ourrations, which we find are badly injured. The flour has been wet anddried so many times that it is all musty and full of hard lumps. We makea sieve of mosquito netting and run our flour through, it, losing morethan 200 pounds by the process. Our losses, by the wrecking of the "NoName, " and by various mishaps since, together with the amount thrownaway to-day, leave us little more than two months' supplies, and to makethem last thus long we must be fortunate enough to lose no more. 

We drag our boats on shore and turn them over to recalk and pitch them, and Sumner is engaged in repairing barometers. While we are here for aday or two, resting, we propose to put everything in the best shape fora vigorous campaign. 

_July 19. --_Bradley and I start this morning to climb the left wallbelow the junction. The way we have selected is up a gulch. Climbing foran hour over and among the rocks, we find ourselves in a vastamphitheater and our way cut off. We clamber around to the left for halfan hour, until we find that we cannot go up in that direction. Then wetry the rocks around to the right and discover a narrow shelf nearlyhalf a mile long. In some places this is so wide that we pass along withease; in others it is so narrow and sloping that we are compelled to liedown and crawl. We can look over the edge of the shelf, down 800 feet, and see the river rolling and plunging among the rocks. Looking up 500feet to the brink of the cliff, it seems to blend with the sky. Wecontinue along until we come to a point where the wall is again brokendown. Up we climb. On the right there is a narrow, mural pointof rocks, extending toward the river, 200 or 300 feet high and 600 or800 feet long. We come back to where this sets in and find it cut offfrom the main wall by a great crevice. Into this we pass; and now along, narrow rock is between us and the river. The rock itself is splitlongitudinally and transversely; and the rains on the surface above haverun down through the crevices and gathered into channels below and thenrun off into the river. The crevices are usually narrow above and, byerosion of the streams, wider below, forming a network of "caves", eachcave having a narrow, winding skylight up through the rocks. We wanderamong these corridors for an hour or two, but find no place where therocks are broken down so that we can climb up. At last we determine toattempt a passage by a crevice, and select one which we think is wideenough to admit of the passage of our bodies and yet narrow enough toclimb out by pressing our hands and feet against the walls. So we climbas men would out of a well. Bradley climbs first; I hand him thebarometer, then climb over his head and he hands me the barometer. So wepass each other alternately until we emerge from the fissure, out on thesummit of the rock. And what a world of grandeur is spread before us!Below is the canyon through which the Colorado runs. We can trace itscourse for miles, and at points catch glimpses of the river. From thenorthwest comes the Green in a narrow winding gorge. From the northeastcomes the Grand, through a canyon that seems bottomless from where westand. Away to the west are lines of cliffs and ledges of rock--not suchledges as the reader may have seen where the quarryman splits hisblocks, but ledges from which the gods might quarry mountains that, rolled out on the plain below, would stand a lofty range; and not suchcliffs as the reader may have seen where the swallow builds its nest, but cliffs where the soaring eagle is lost to view ere he reaches thesummit. Between us and the distant cliffs are the strangely carved andpinnacled rocks of the _Toom'pin wunear' Tuweap'. _ On the summit of theopposite wall of the canyon are rock forms that we do not understand. Away to the east a group of eruptive mountains are seen--the Sierra LaSal, which we first saw two days ago through the canyon of the Grand. Their slopes are covered with pines, and deep gulches are flanked withgreat crags, and snow fields are seen near the summits. So the mountainsare in uniform, --green, gray, and silver. Wherever we look there is buta wilderness of rocks, --deep gorges where the rivers are lost belowcliffs and towers and pinnacles, and ten thousand strangely carved formsin every direction, and beyond them mountains blending with the clouds. 

Now we return to camp. While eating supper we very naturally speak ofbetter fare, as musty bread and spoiled bacon are not palatable. Soon Isee Hawkins down by the boat, taking up the sextant--rather a strangeproceeding for him--and I question him concerning it. He replies that heis trying to find the latitude and longitude of the nearest pie. 

_July 20. --_This morning Captain Powell and I go out to climb the westwall of the canyon, for the purpose of examining the strange rocks seenyesterday from the other side. Two hours bring us to the top, at a pointbetween the Green and Colorado overlooking the junction of the rivers. 

A long neck of rock extends toward the mouth of the Grand. Out on thiswe walk, crossing a great number of deep crevices. Usually the smoothrock slopes down to the fissure on either side. Sometimes it is aninteresting question to us whether the slope is not so steep that wecannot stand on it. Sometimes, starting down, we are compelled to goon, and when we measure the crevice with our eye from above we are notalways sure that it is not too wide for a jump. Probably the slopeswould not be difficult if there was not a fissure at the lower end; norwould the fissures cause fear if they were but a few feet deep. It iscurious how a little obstacle becomes a great obstruction when a misstepwould land a man in the bottom of a deep chasm. Climbing the face of acliff, a man will without hesitancy walk along a step or shelf but a fewinches wide if the landing is but ten feet below, but if the foot of thecliff is a thousand feet down he will prefer to crawl along the shelf. At last our way is cut off by a fissure so deep and wide that we cannotpass it. Then we turn and walk back into the country, over the smooth, naked sandstone, without vegetation, except that here and there dwarfcedars and piñón pines have found a footing in the huge cracks. Thereare great basins in the rock, holding water, --some but a few gallons, others hundreds of barrels. 

The day is spent in walking about through these strange scenes. A narrowgulch is cut into the wall of the main canyon. Follow this up and theclimb is rapid, as if going up a mountain side, for the gulch heads buta few hundred or a few thousand yards from the wall. But this gulch hasits side gulches, and as the summit is approached a group of radiatingcanyons is found. The spaces drained by these little canyons areterraced, and are, to a greater or less extent, of the form ofamphitheaters, though some are oblong and some rather irregular. Usuallythe spaces drained by any two of these little side canyons are separatedby a narrow wall, 100, 200, or 300 feet high, and often but a few feetin thickness. Sometimes the wall is broken into a line of pyramids aboveand still remains a wall below. There are a number of these gulcheswhich break the wall of the main canyon of the Green, each one havingits system of side canyons and amphitheaters, inclosed by walls or linesof pinnacles. The course of the Green at this point is approximately atright angles to that of the Colorado, and on the brink of the lattercanyon we find the same system of terraced and walled glens. The wallsand pinnacles and towers are of sandstone, homogeneous in structure butnot in color, as they show broad bands of red, buff, and gray. Thispainting of the rocks, dividing them into sections, increases theirapparent height. In some places these terraced and walled glens alongthe Colorado have coalesced with those along the Green; that is, theintervening walls are broken down. It is very rarely that a loose rockis seen. The sand is washed off, so that the walls, terraces, and slopesof the glens are all of smooth sandstone. 

In the walls themselves curious caves and channels have been carved. Insome places there are little stairways up the walls; in others, thewalls present what are known as royal arches; and so we wander throughglens and among pinnacles and climb the walls from early morn until latein the afternoon. 

_July 21. --_ We start this morning on the Colorado. The river is rough, and bad rapids in close succession are found. Two very hard portages aremade during the forenoon. After dinner, in running a rapid, the "EmmaDean" is swamped and we are thrown into the river; we cling to the boat, and in the first quiet water below she is righted and bailed out; butthree oars are lost in this mishap. The larger boats land above thedangerous place, and we make a portage, which occupies all theafternoon. We camp at night on the rocks on the left bank, and canscarcely find room to lie down. 

_July 22. --_This morning we continue our journey, though short of oars. There is no timber growing on the walls within our reach and nodriftwood along the banks, so we are compelled to go on until somethingsuitable can be found. A mile and three quarters below, we find a hugepile of driftwood, among which are some cottonwood logs. From these weselect one which we think the best, and the men are set at work sawingoars. Our boats are leaking again, from the strains received in the badrapids yesterday, so after dinner they are turned over and some of themen calk them. 

Captain Powell and I go out to climb the wall to the east, for we cansee dwarf pines above, and it is our purpose to collect the resin whichoozes from them, to use in pitching our boats. We take a barometer withus and find that the walls are becoming higher, for now they register analtitude above the river of nearly 1, 500 feet. 

_July 23. _--On starting, we come at once to difficult rapids and falls, that in many places are more abrupt than in any of the canyons throughwhich we have passed, and we decide to name this Cataract Canyon. Frommorning until noon the course of the river is to the west; the sceneryis grand, with rapids, and falls below, and walls above, beset withcrags and pinnacles. Just at noon we wheel again to the south and gointo camp for dinner. 

While the cook is preparing it, Bradley, Captain Powell, and I go upinto a side canyon that comes in at this point. We enter through a verynarrow passage, having to wade along the course of a little stream untila cascade interrupts our progress. Then we climb to the right for ahundred feet until we reach a little shelf, along which we pass, walkingwith great care, for it is narrow; thus we pass around the fall. Herethe gorge widens into a spacious, sky-roofed chamber. In the farther endis a beautiful grove of cottonwoods, and between us and the cotton-woodsthe little stream widens out into three clear lakelets with bottoms ofsmooth rock. Beyond the cottonwoods the brook tumbles in a series ofwhite, shining cascades from heights that seem immeasurable. Turningaround, we can look through the cleft through which we came and see theriver with towering walls beyond. What a chamber for a resting-place isthis! hewn from the solid rock, the heavens for a ceiling, cascadefountains within, a grove in the conservatory, clear lakelets for arefreshing bath, and an outlook through the doorway on a raging river, with cliffs and mountains beyond. 

Our way after dinner is through a gorge, grand beyond description. Thewalls are nearly vertical, the river broad and swift, but free fromrocks and falls. From the edge of the water to the brink of the cliffsit is 1, 600 to 1, 800 feet. At this great depth the river rolls in solemnmajesty. The cliffs are reflected from the more quiet river, and we seemto be in the depths of the earth, and yet we can look down into watersthat reflect a bottomless abyss. Early in the afternoon we arriveat the head of more rapids and falls, but, wearied with past work, wedetermine to rest, so go into camp, and the afternoon and evening arespent by the men in discussing the probabilities of successfullynavigating the river below. The barometric records are examined to seewhat descent we have made since we left the mouth of the Grand, and whatdescent since we left the Pacific Railroad, and what fall there yetmust be to the river ere we reach the end of the great canyons. Theconclusion at which the men arrive seems to be about this: that thereare great descents yet to be made, but if they are distributed in rapidsand short falls, as they have been heretofore, we shall be able toovercome them; but may be we shall come to a fall in these canyons whichwe cannot pass, where the walls rise from the water's edge, so that wecannot land, and where the water is so swift that we cannot return. Suchplaces have been found, except that the falls were not so great but thatwe could run them with safety. How will it be in the future t So theyspeculate over the serious probabilities in jesting mood. 

_July 24. --_We examine the rapids below. Large rocks have fallen fromthe walls--great, angular blocks, which have rolled down the talus andare strewn along the channel. We are compelled to make three portages insuccession, the distance being less than three fourths of a mile, with afall of 75 feet. Among these rocks, in chutes, whirlpools, and greatwaves, with rushing breakers and foam, the water finds its way, stilltumbling down. We stop for the night only three fourths of a mile belowthe last camp. A very hard day's work has been done, and at evening Isit on a rock by the edge of the river and look at the water and listento its roar. Hours ago deep shadows settled into the canyon, as the sunpassed behind the cliffs. Now, doubtless, the sun has gone down, for wecan see no glint of light on the crags above. Darkness is coming on; butthe waves are rolling with crests of foam so white they seem almost togive a light of their own. Near by, a chute of water strikes the foot ofa great block of limestone 50 feet high, and the waters pile up againstit and roll back. Where there are sunken rocks the water heaps up inmounds, or even in cones. At a point where rocks come very near thesurface, the water forms a chute above, strikes, and is shot up 10 or 15feet, and piles back in gentle curves, as in a fountain; and on theriver tumbles and rolls. 

_July 25. --_Still more rapids and falls to-day. In one, the "Emma Dean"is caught in a whirlpool and set spinning about, and it is with greatdifficulty we are able to get out of it with only the loss of an oar. Atnoon another is made; and on we go, running some of the rapids, lettingdown with lines past others, and making two short portages. We camp onthe right bank, hungry and tired. 

_July 26. --_We run a short distance this morning and go into camp tomake oars and repair boats and barometers. The walls of the canyon havebeen steadily increasing in altitude to this point, and now they aremore than 2, 000 feet high. In many places they are vertical from thewater's edge; in others there is a talus between the river and the footof the cliff; and they are often broken down by side canyons. It isprobable that the river is nearly as low now as it is ever found. High-water mark can be observed 40, 50, 60, or 100 feet above itspresent stage. Sometimes logs and driftwood are seen wedged into thecrevices over-head, where floods have carried them. 

About ten o'clock, Powell, Bradley, Howland, Hall, and I startup a side canyon to the east. We soon come to pools of water; then to abrook, which is lost in the sands below; and passing up the brook, wesee that the canyon narrows, the walls close in and are oftenoverhanging, and at last we find ourselves in a vast amphitheater, witha pool of deep, clear, cold water on the bottom. At first our way seemscut off; but we soon discover a little shelf, along which we climb, and, passing beyond the pool, walk a hundred yards or more, turn to theright, and find ourselves in another dome-shaped amphitheater. There isa winding cleft at the top, reaching out to the country above, nearly2, 000 feet overhead. The rounded, basin-shaped bottom is filled withwater to the foot of the walls. There is no shelf by which we can passaround the foot. If we swim across we meet with a face of rock hundredsof feet high, over which a little rill glides, and it will be impossibleto climb. So we can go no farther up this canyon. Then we turn back andexamine the walls on either side carefully, to discover, if possible, some way of climbing out. In this search every man takes his own course, and we are scattered. I almost abandon the idea of getting out and amengaged in searching for fossils, when I discover, on the north, abroken place lip which it may be possible to climb. The way for adistance is up a slide of rocks; then up an irregular amphitheater, onpoints that form steps and give handhold; and then I reach a littleshelf, along which I walk, and discover a vertical fissure parallel tothe face of the wall and reaching to a higher shelf. This fissure isnarrow and I try to climb up to the bench, which is about 40 feetoverhead. I have a barometer on my back, which rather impedes myclimbing. The walls of the fissure are of smooth limestone, offeringneither foothold nor handhold. So I support myself by pressing my backagainst one wall and my knees against the other, and in this way lift mybody, in a shuffling manner, a few inches at a time, until I have madeperhaps 25 feet of the distance, when the crevice widens a little and Icannot press my knees against the rock in front with sufficient power togive me support in lifting my body; so I try to go back. This I cannotdo without falling. So I struggle along sidewise farther into thecrevice, where it narrows. But by this time my muscles are exhausted, and I cannot climb longer; so I move still a little farther into thecrevice, where it is so narrow and wedging that I can lie in it, andthere I rest. Five or ten minutes of this relief, and up once more I go, and reach the bench above. On this I can walk for a quarter of a mile, till I come to a place where the wall is again broken down, so I canclimb up still farther; and in an hour I reach the summit. I hang up mybarometer to give it a few minutes' time to settle, and occupy myself incollecting resin from the pinon pines, which are found in greatabundance. One of the principal objects in making this climb was to getthis resin for the purpose of smearing our boats; but I have with me nomeans of carrying it down. The day is very hot and my coat was left incamp, so I have no linings to tear out. Then it occurs to me to cut offthe sleeve of my shirt and tie it up at one end, and in this little sackI collect about a gallon of pitch. After taking observations foraltitude, I wander back on the rock for an hour or two, when suddenly Inotice that a storm is coming from the south. I seek a shelter in therocks; but when the storm bursts, it comes down as a flood from theheavens, --not with gentle drops at first, slowly increasing in quantity, but as if suddenly poured out. I am thoroughly drenched and almostwashed away. It lasts not more than half an hour, when the clouds sweepby to the north and I have sunshine again. 

In the meantime I have discovered a better way of getting down, andstart for camp, making the greatest haste possible. On reaching thebottom of the side canyon, I find a thousand streams rolling down thecliffs on every side, carrying with them red sand; and these all unitein the canyon below in one great stream of red mud. 

Traveling as fast as I can run, I soon reach the foot of the stream, forthe rain did not reach the lower end of the canyon and the water isrunning down a dry bed of sand; and although it conies in waves severalfeet high and 15 or 20 feet in width, the sands soak it up and it islost. But wave follows wave and rolls along and is swallowed up; andstill the floods come on from above. I find that I can travel fasterthan the stream; so I hasten to camp and tell the men there is a rivercoming down the canyon. We carry our camp equipage hastily from the bankto where we think it will be above the water. Then we stand by and seethe river roll on to join the Colorado. Great quantities of gypsum arefound at the bottom of the gorge; so we name it Gypsum Canyon. 

_July 27. --_We have more rapids and falls until noon; then we come to anarrow place in the canyon, with vertical walls for several hundredfeet, above which are steep steps and sloping rocks back to the summits. The river is very narrow, and we make our way with great care and muchanxiety, hugging the wall on the left and carefully examining the waybefore us. 

Late in the afternoon we pass to the left around a sharp point, which issomewhat broken down near the foot, and discover a flock of mountainsheep on the rocks more than a hundred feet above us. We land quickly ina cove out of sight, and away go all the hunters with their guns, forthe sheep have not discovered us. Soon we hear firing, and those of uswho have remained in the boats climb up to see what success the huntershave had. One sheep has been killed, and two of the men are stillpursuing them. In a few minutes we hear firing again, and the nextmoment down come the flock clattering over the rocks within 20 yards ofus. One of the hunters seizes his gun and brings a second sheep down, and the next minute the remainder of the flock is lost behind the rocks. We all give chase; but it is impossible to follow their tracks over thenaked rock, and we see them no more. Where they went out of thisrock-walled canyon is a mystery, for we can see no way of escape. Doubtless, if we could spare the time for the search, we should find agulch up which they ran. 

We lash our prizes to the deck of one of the boats and go on for a shortdistance; but fresh meat is too tempting for us, and we stop early tohave a feast. And a feast it is! Two fine young sheep! We care not forbread or beans or dried apples to-night; coffee and mutton are all weask. 

_July 28. _--We make two portages this morning, one of them very long. During the afternoon we run a chute more than half a mile in length, narrow and rapid. This chute has a floor of marble; the rocks dip in thedirection in which we are going, and the fall of the stream conforms tothe inclination of the beds; so we float on water that is gliding downan inclined plane. At the foot of the chute the river turns sharply tothe right and the water rolls up against a rock which from above seemsto stand directly athwart its course. As we approach it we pull with allour power to the right, but it seems impossible to avoid being carriedheadlong against the cliff; we are carried up high on the waves--but notagainst the rock, for the rebounding water strikes us and we are beatenback and pass on with safety, except that we get a good drenching. 

After this the walls suddenly close in, so that the canyon is narrowerthan we have ever known it. The water fills it from wall to wall, givingus no landing-place at the foot of the cliff; the river is very swiftand the canyon very tortuous, so that we can see but a few hundred yardsahead; the walls tower over us, often overhanging so as almost to shutout the light. I stand on deck, watching with intense anxiety, lest thismay lead us into some danger; but we glide along, with no obstruction, no falls, no rocks, and in a mile and a half emerge from the narrowgorge into a more open and broken portion of the canyon. Now that it ispast, it seems a very simple thing indeed to run through such a place, but the fear of what might be ahead made a deep impression on us. 

At three o'clock we arrive at the foot of Cataract Canyon. Here a longcanyon valley comes down from the east, and the river turns sharply tothe west in a continuation of the line of the lateral valley. In thebend on the right vast numbers of crags and pinnacles and tower-shapedrocks are seen. We call it Mille Crag Bend. 

And now we wheel into another canyon, on swift water unobstructed byrocks. This new canyon is very narrow and very straight, with wallsvertical below and terraced above. Where we enter it the brink of thecliff is 1, 300 feet above the water, but the rocks dip to the west, andas the course of the canyon is in that direction the walls are seenslowly to decrease in altitude. Floating down this narrow channel andlooking out through the canyon crevice away in the distance, the riveris seen to turn again to the left, and beyond this point, away manymiles, a great mountain is seen. Still floating down, we see othermountains, now on the right, now on the left, until a great mountainrange is unfolded to view. We name this Narrow Canyon, and it terminatesat the bend of the river below. 

As we go down to this point we discover the mouth of a stream whichenters from the right. Into this our little boat is turned. The water isexceedingly muddy and has an unpleasant odor. One of the men in the boatfollowing, seeing what we have done, shouts to 'Dunn and asks whether itis a trout stream. Dunn replies, much disgusted, that it is "a dirtydevil, " and by this name the river is to be known hereafter. 

Some of us go out for half a mile and climb a butte to the north. Thecourse of the Dirty Devil River can be traced for many miles. It comesdown through a very narrow canyon, and beyond it, to the southwest, there is a long line of cliffs, with a broad terrace, or bench, betweenit and the brink of the canyon, and beyond these cliffs is situated therange of mountains seen as we came down Narrow Canyon. Looking up theColorado, the chasm through which it runs can be seen, but we cannot seedown to its waters. The whole country is a region of naked rock of manycolors, with cliffs and buttes about us and towering mountains in thedistance. 

_July 29. _--We enter a canyon to-day, with low, red walls. A shortdistance below its head we discover the ruins of an old building on theleft wall. There is a narrow plain between the river and the wall justhere, and on the brink of a rock 200 feet high stands this old house. Its walls are of stone, laid in mortar with much regularity. It wasprobably built three stories high; the lower story is yet almost intact;the second is much broken down, and scarcely anything is left of thethird. Great quantities of flint chips are found on the rocks near by, and many arrowheads, some perfect, others broken; and fragments ofpottery are strewn about in great profusion. On the face of the cliff, under the building and along down the river for 200 or 300 yards, thereare many etchings. Two hours are given to the examination of theseinteresting ruins; then we run down fifteen miles farther, and discoveranother group. The principal building was situated on the summit of thehill. 

A part of the walls are standing, to the height of eight or ten feet, and the mortar yet remains in some places. The house was in the shape ofan L, with five rooms on the ground floor, --one in the angle and two ineach extension. In the space in the angle there is a deep excavation. From what we know of the people in the Province of Tusayan, who are, doubtless, of the same race as the former inhabitants of these ruins, weconclude that this was a _kiva, _ or underground chamber in which theirreligious ceremonies were performed. 

We leave these ruins and run down two or three miles and go into campabout mid-afternoon. And now I climb the wall and go out into the backcountry for a walk. 

The sandstone through which the canyon is cut is red and homogeneous, being the same as that through which Labyrinth Canyon runs. The smooth, naked rock stretches out on either side of the river for many miles, butcuriously carved mounds and cones are scattered everywhere and deepholes are worn out. Many of these pockets are filled with water. In oneof these holes or wells, 20 feet deep, I find a tree growing. Theexcavation is so narrow that I can step from its brink to a limb on thetree and descend to the bottom of the well down a growing ladder. Manyof these pockets are potholes, being found in the courses of littlerills or brooks that run during the rains which occasionally fall inthis region; and often a few harder rocks, which evidently assisted intheir excavation, can be found in their bottoms. Others, which areshallower, are not so easily explained. Perhaps where they are foundsofter spots existed in the sandstone, places that yielded more readilyto atmospheric degradation, the loose sands being carried away by thewinds. 

Just before sundown I attempt to climb a rounded eminence, from which Ihope to obtain a good outlook on the surrounding country. It is formedof smooth mounds, piled one above another. Up these I climb, windinghere and there to find a practicable way, until near the summit theybecome too steep for me to proceed. I search about a few minutes for aneasier way, when I am surprised at finding a stairway, evidently cut inthe rock by hands. At one place, where there is a vertical wall of 10 or12 feet, I find an old, rickety ladder. It may be that this was awatchtower of that ancient people whose homes we have found in ruins. Onmany of the tributaries of the Colorado, I have heretofore examinedtheir deserted dwellings. Those that show evidences of being builtduring the latter part of their occupation of the country are usuallyplaced on the most inaccessible cliffs. Sometimes the mouths of caveshave been walled across, and there are many other evidences to showtheir anxiety to secure defensible positions. Probably the nomadictribes were sweeping down upon them and they resorted to these cliffsand canyons for safety. It is not unreasonable to suppose that thisorange mound was used as a watchtower. Here I stand, where these nowlost people stood centuries ago, and look over this strange country, gazing off to great mountains in the northwest which are slowlydisappearing under cover of the night; and then I return to camp. It isno easy task to find my way down the wall in the darkness, and I clamberabout until it is nearly midnight when camp is reached. 

_July 30. --_We make good progress to-day, as the water, though smooth, is swift. Sometimes the canyon walls are vertical to the top; sometimesthey are vertical below and have a mound-covered slope above; in otherplaces the slope, with its mounds, comes down to the water's edge. 

Still proceeding on our way, we find that the orange sandstone is cut intwo by a group of firm, calcareous strata, and the lower bed isunderlaid by soft, gypsiferous shales. Sometimes the upper homogeneousbed is a smooth, vertical wall, but usually it is carved with mounds, with gently meandering valley lines. The lower bed, yielding to gravity, as the softer shales below work, out into the river, breaks into angularsurfaces, often having a columnar appearance. One could almost imaginethat the walls had been carved with a purpose, to represent giantarchitectural forms. In the deep recesses of the walls we find springs, with mosses and ferns on the moistened sandstone. 

_July 31. --_We have a cool, pleasant ride to-day through this part ofthe canyon. The walls are steadily increasing in altitude, the curvesare gentle, and often the river sweeps by an arc of vertical wall, smooth and unbroken, and then by a curve that is variegated by royalarches, mossy alcoves, deep, beautiful glens, and painted grottoes. Soonafter dinner we discover the mouth of the San Juan, where we camp. Theremainder of the afternoon is given to hunting some way by which we canclimb out of the canyon; but it ends in failure. 

_August 1. --_We drop down two miles this morning and go into camp again. There is a low, willow-covered strip of land along the walls on theeast. Across this we walk, to explore an alcove which we see from theriver. On entering, we find a little grove of box-elder and cotton-woodtrees, and turning to the right, we find ourselves in a vast chamber, carved out of the rock. At the upper end there is a clear, deep pool ofwater, bordered with verdure. Standing by the side of this, we can seethe grove at the entrance. The chamber is more than 200 feet high, 500feet long, and 200 feet wide. Through the ceiling, and on through therocks for a thousand feet above, there is a narrow, winding skylight;and this is all carved out by a little stream which runs only during thefew showers that fall now and then in this arid country. The waters fromthe bare rocks back of the canyon, gathering rapidly into a smallchannel, have eroded a deep side canyon, through which they run untilthey fall into the farther end of this chamber. The rock at the ceilingis hard, the rock below, very soft and friable; and having cut throughthe upper and harder portion down into the lower and softer, the streamhas washed out these friable sandstones; and thus the chamber has beenexcavated. 

Here we bring our camp. When "Old Shady" sings us a song at night, weare pleased to find that this hollow in the rock is filled with sweetsounds. It was doubtless made for an academy of music by its storm-bornarchitect; so we name it Music Temple. 

_August 2. --_We still keep our camp in Music Temple to-day. I wish toobtain a view of the adjacent country, if possible; so, early in themorning the men take me across the river, and I pass along by the footof the cliff half a mile up stream and then climb, first up brokenledges, then 200 or 300 yards up a smooth, sloping rock, and then passout on a narrow ridge. Still, I find I have not attained an altitudefrom which I can overlook the region outside of the canyon; and so Idescend into a little gulch and climb again to a higher ridge, all theway along naked sandstone, and at last I reach a point of commandingview. I can look several miles up the San Juan, and a long distance upthe Colorado; and away to the northwest I can see the Henry Mountains;to the northeast, the Sierra La Sal; to the southeast, unknownmountains; and to the southwest, the meandering of the canyon. Then Ireturn to the bank of the river. We sleep again in Music Temple. 

_August 3. --_Start early this morning. The features of this canyon aregreatly diversified. Still vertical walls at times. These are usuallyfound to stand above great curves. The river, sweeping around thesebends, undermines the cliffs in places. Sometimes the rocks areoverhanging; in other curves, curious, narrow glens are found. Throughthese we climb, by a rough stairway, perhaps several hundred feet, towhere a spring bursts out from under an overhanging cliff, and wherecottonwoods and willows stand, while along the curves of the brookletoaks grow, and other rich vegetation is seen, in marked contrast to thegeneral appearance of naked rock. We call these Oak Glens. 

Other wonderful features are the many side canyons or gorges that wepass. Sometimes we stop to explore these for a short distance. In someplaces their walls are much nearer each other above than below, so thatthey look somewhat like caves or chambers in the rocks. Usually, ingoing up such a gorge, we find beautiful vegetation; but our way isoften cut off by deep basins, or "potholes, " as they are called. 

On the walls, and back many miles into the country, numbers ofmonument-shaped buttes are observed. So we have a curious _ensemble_ ofwonderful features--carved walls, royal arches, glens, alcove gulches, mounds, and monuments. From which of these features shall we select aname? We decide to call it Glen Canyon. 

Past these towering monuments, past these mounded billows of orangesandstone, past these oak-set glens, past these fern-decked alcoves, past these mural curves, we glide hour after hour, stopping now andthen, as our attention is arrested by some new wonder, until we reach apoint which is historic. 

In the year 1776, Father Escalante, a Spanish priest, made an expeditionfrom Santa Fe to the northwest, crossing the Grand and Green, and thenpassing down along the Wasatch Mountains and the southern plateaus untilhe reached the Rio Virgen. His intention was to cross to the Mission ofMonterey; but, from information received from the Indians, he decidedthat the route was impracticable. Not wishing to return to Santa Fe overthe circuitous route by which he had just traveled, he attempted to goby one more direct, which led him across the Colorado at a point knownas El Vado de los Padres. From the description which we have read, weare enabled to determine the place. A little stream comes down through avery narrow side canyon from the west. It was down this that he came, and our boats are lying at the point where the ford crosses. Awell-beaten Indian trail is seen here yet. Between the cliff and theriver there is a little meadow. The ashes of many camp fires are seen, and the bones of numbers of cattle are bleaching on the grass. Forseveral years the Navajos have raided on the Mormons that dwell in thevalleys to the west, and they doubtless cross frequently at this fordwith their stolen cattle. 

_August 4. --_To-day the walls grow higher and the canyon much narrower. Monuments are still seen on either side; beautiful glens and alcoves andgorges and side canyons are yet found. After dinner we find the rivermaking a sudden turn to the northwest and the whole character of thecanyon changed. The walls are many hundreds of feet higher, and therocks are chiefly variegated shales of beautiful colors--creamy orangeabove, then bright vermilion, and below, purple and chocolate beds, withgreen and yellow sands. We run four miles through this, in a direction alittle to the west of north, wheel again to the west, and pass into aportion of the canyon where the characteristics are more like thoseabove the bend. At night we stop at the mouth of a creek coming in fromthe right, and suppose it to be the Paria, which was described to melast year by a Mormon missionary. Here the canyon terminates abruptly ina line of cliffs, which stretches from either side across the river. 

_August 5. --_With some feeling of anxiety we enter a new canyon thismorning. We have learned to observe closely the texture of the rock. Insofter strata we have a quiet river, in harder we find rapids and falls. Below us are the limestones and hard sandstones which we found inCataract Canyon. This bodes toil and danger. Besides the texture of therocks, there is another condition which affects the character of thechannel, as we have found by experience. Where the strata are horizontalthe river is often quiet, and, even though it may be very swift inplaces, no great obstacles are found. Where the rocks incline in thedirection traveled, the river usually sweeps with great velocity, butstill has few rapids and falls. But where the rocks dip up stream andthe river cuts obliquely across the upturned formations, harder strataabove and softer below, we have rapids and falls. Into hard rocks andinto rocks dipping up stream we pass this morning and start on a long, rocky, mad rapid. On the left there is a vertical rock, and down by thiscliff and around to the left we glide, tossed just enough by the wavesto appreciate the rate at which we are traveling. 

The canyon is narrow, with vertical walls, which gradually grow higher. More rapids and falls are found. We come to one with a drop of sixteenfeet, around which we make a portage, and then stop for dinner. Then arun of two miles, and another portage, long and difficult; then we campfor the night on a bank of sand. 

_August 6. --_Canyon walls, still higher and higher, as we go downthrough strata. There is a steep talus at the foot of the cliff, and insome places the upper parts of the walls are terraced. 

About ten o'clock we come to a place where the river occupies the entirechannel and the walls are vertical from the water's edge. We see a fallbelow and row up against the cliff. There is a little shelf, or rather ahorizontal crevice, a few feet over our heads. One man stands on thedeck of the boat, another climbs on his shoulders, and then into thecrevice. Then we pass him a line, and two or three others, with myself, follow; then we pass along the crevice until it becomes a shelf, as theupper part, or roof, is broken off. On this we walk for a shortdistance, slowly climbing all the way, until we reach a point where theshelf is broken off, and we can pass no farther. So we go back to theboat, cross the stream, and get some logs that have lodged in the rocks, bring them to our side, pass them along the crevice and shelf, andbridge over the broken place. Then we go on to a point over the falls, but do not obtain a satisfactory view. So we climb out to the top of thewall and walk along to find a point below the fall from which it can beseen. From this point it seems possible to let down our boats with linesto the head of the rapids, and then make a portage; so we return, rowdown by the side of the cliff as far as we dare, and fasten one of theboats to a rock. Then we let down another boat to the end of its linebeyond the first, and the third boat to the end of its line below thesecond, which brings it to the head of the fall and under an overhangingrock. Then the upper boat, in obedience to a signal, lets go; we pull inthe line and catch the nearest boat as it comes, and then the last. Theportage follows. 

We go into camp early this afternoon at a place where it seems possibleto climb out, and the evening is spent in "making observations fortime. "

_August 7. --_The almanac tells us that we are to have an eclipse of thesun to-day; so Captain Powell and myself start early, taking ourinstruments with us for the purpose of making observations on theeclipse to determine our longitude. Arriving at the summit, after fourhours' hard climbing to attain 2, 300 feet in height, we hurriedlybuild a platform of rocks on which to place our instruments, and quietlywait for the eclipse; but clouds come on and rain falls, and sun andmoon are obscured. 

Much disappointed, we start on our return to camp, but it is late andthe clouds make the night very dark. We feel our way down among therocks with great care for two or three hours, making slow progressindeed. At last we lose our way and dare proceed no farther. The raincomes down in torrents and we can find no shelter. We can neither climbup nor go down, and in the darkness dare not move about; so we sit and"weather out" the night. 

_August 8. _--Daylight comes after a long, oh, how long! a night, and wesoon reach camp. After breakfast we start again, and make two portagesduring the forenoon. 

The limestone of this canyon is often polished, and makes a beautifulmarble. Sometimes the rocks are of many colors--white, gray, pink, andpurple, with saffron tints. It is with very great labor that we makeprogress, meeting with many obstructions, running rapids, letting downour boats with lines from rock to rock, and sometimes carrying boats andcargoes around bad places. We camp at night, just after a hard portage, under an overhanging wall, glad to find shelter from the rain. We haveto search for some time to find a few sticks of driftwood, justsufficient to boil a cup of coffee. 

The water sweeps rapidly in this elbow of river, and has cut its wayunder the rock, excavating a vast half-circular chamber, which, ifutilized for a theater, would give sitting to 50, 000 people. Objectionmight be raised against it, however, for at high water the floor iscovered with a raging flood. 

_August 9. --_And now the scenery is on a grand scale. The walls of thecanyon, 2, 500 feet high, are of marble, of many beautiful colors, oftenpolished below by the waves, and sometimes far up the sides, whereshowers have washed the sands over the cliffs. At one place I have awalk for more than a mile on a marble pavement, all polished and frettedwith strange devices and embossed in a thousand fantastic patterns. Through a cleft in the wall the sun shines on this pavement and itgleams in iridescent beauty. 

I pass up into the cleft. It is very narrow, with a succession of poolsstanding at higher levels as I go back. The water in these pools isclear and cool, coming down from springs. Then I return to the pavement, which is but a terrace or bench, over which the river runs at its flood, but left bare at present. Along the pavement in many places are basinsof clear water, in strange contrast to the red mud of the river. Atlength I come to the end of this marble terrace and take again to theboat. 

Riding down a short distance, a beautiful view is presented. The riverturns sharply to the east and seems inclosed by a wall set with amillion brilliant gems. What can it mean? Every eye is engaged, everyone wonders. On coming nearer we find fountains bursting from the rockhigh overhead, and the spray in the sunshine forms the gems which bedeckthe wall. The rocks below the fountain are covered with mosses and fernsand many beautiful flowering plants. We name it Vasey's Paradise, inhonor of the botanist who traveled with us last year. 

We pass many side canyons to-day that are dark, gloomy passages backinto the heart of the rocks that form the plateau through which thiscanyon is cut. It rains again this afternoon. Scarcely do the firstdrops fall when little rills run down the walls. As the storm comes on, the little rills increase in size, until great streams are formed. Although the walls of the canyon are chiefly limestone, the adjacentcountry is of red sandstone; and now the waters, loaded with thesesands, come down in rivers of bright red mud, leaping over the walls ininnumerable cascades. It is plain now how these walls are polished inmany places. 

At last the storm ceases and we go on. We have cut through thesandstones and limestones met in the upper part of the canyon, andthrough one great bed of marble a thousand feet in thickness. In this, great numbers of caves are hollowed out, and carvings are seen whichsuggest architectural forms, though on a scale so grand thatarchitectural terms belittle them. As this great bed forms a distinctivefeature of the canyon, we call it Marble Canyon. 

It is a peculiar feature of these walls that many projections are setout into the river, as if the wall was buttressed for support. The wallsthemselves are half a mile high, and these buttresses are on acorresponding scale, jutting into the river scores of feet. In therecesses between these projections there are quiet bays, except at thefoot of a rapid, when there are dancing eddies or whirlpools. Sometimesthese alcoves have caves at the back, giving them the appearance ofgreat depth. Then other caves are seen above, forming vast dome-shapedchambers. The walls and buttresses and chambers are all of marble. 

The river is now quiet; the canyon wider. Above, when the river is atits flood, the waters gorge up, so that the difference between high andlow water mark is often 50 or even 70 feet, but here high-water mark isnot more than 20 feet above the present stage of the river. Sometimesthere is a narrow flood plain between the water and the wall. Here wefirst discover mesquite shrubs, --small trees with finely divided leavesand pods, somewhat like the locust. 

_August 10. --_Walls still higher; water swift again. We pass severalbroad, ragged canyons on our right, and up through these we catchglimpses of a forest-clad plateau, miles away to the west. 

At two o'clock we reach the mouth of the Colorado Chiquito. This streamenters through a canyon on a scale quite as grand as that of theColorado itself. It is a very small river and exceedingly muddy andsaline. I walk up the stream three or four miles this afternoon, crossing and recrossing where I can easily wade it. Then I climb severalhundred feet at one place, and can see for several miles up the chasmthrough which the river runs. On my way back I kill two rattlesnakes, and find on my arrival that another has been killed just at camp. 

_August 11. --_We remain at this point to-day for the purpose ofdetermining the latitude and longitude, measuring the height of thewalls, drying our rations, and repairing our boats. 

Captain Powell early in the morning takes a barometer and goes out toclimb a point between the two rivers. I walk down the gorge to the leftat the foot of the cliff, climb to a bench, and discover a trail, deeplyworn in the rock. Where it crosses the side gulches in some places stepshave been cut. I can see no evidence of its having been traveled for along time. It was doubtless a path used by the people who inhabited thiscountry anterior to the present Indian races--the people who built thecommunal houses of which mention has been made. 

I return to camp about three o'clock and find that some of the men havediscovered ruins and many fragments of pottery; also etchings andhieroglyphics on the rocks. 

We find to-night, on comparing the readings of the barometers, that thewalls are about 3, 000 feet high--more than half a mile--an altitudedifficult to appreciate from a mere statement of feet. The slope bywhich the ascent is made is not such a slope as is usually found inclimbing a mountain, but one much more abrupt--often vertical for manyhundreds of feet, --so that the impression is given that we are at greatdepths, and we look up to see but a little patch of sky. 

Between the two streams, above the Colorado Chiquito, in some places therocks are broken and shelving for 600 Or 700 feet; then there is asloping terrace, which can be climbed only by finding some way up agulch; then another terrace, and back, still another cliff. The summitof the cliff is 3, 000 feet above the river, as our barometers attest. 

Our camp is below the Colorado Chiquito and on the eastern side of thecanyon. 

_August 12. --_The rocks above camp are rust-colored sandstones andconglomerates. Some are very hard; others quite soft. They all lienearly horizontal, and the beds of softer material have been washed out, leaving the harder forming a series of shelves. Long lines of these areseen, of varying thickness, from one or two to twenty or thirty feet, and the spaces between have the same variability. This morning I spendtwo or three hours in climbing among these shelves, and then I passabove them and go up a long slope to the foot of the cliff and try todiscover some way by which I can reach the top of the wall; but I findmy progress cut off by an amphitheater. Then I wander away around to theleft, up a little gulch and along benches, climbing from time to time, until I reach an altitude of nearly 2, 000 feet and can get no higher. From this point I can look off to the west, up side canyons of theColorado, and see the edge of a great plateau, from which streams rundown into the Colorado, and deep gulches in the escarpment which facesus, continued by canyons, ragged and flaring and set with cliffs andtowering crags, down to the river. I can see far up Marble Canyon tolong lines of chocolate-colored cliffs, and above these the VermilionCliffs. I can see, also, up the Colorado Chiquito, through a very raggedand broken canyon, with sharp salients set out from the walls on eitherside, their points overlapping, so that a huge tooth of marble on oneside seems to be set between two teeth on the opposite; and I can alsoget glimpses of walls standing away back from the river, while over myhead are mural escarpments not possible to be scaled. 

Cataract Canyon is 41 miles long. The walls are 1, 300 feet high at itshead, and they gradually increase in altitude to a point about halfwaydown, where they are 2, 700 feet, and then decrease to 1, 300 feet at thefoot. Narrow Canyon is 9 1/2 miles long, with walls 1, 300 feet in heightat the head and coming down to the water at the foot. 

There is very little vegetation in this canyon or in the adjacentcountry. Just at the junction of the Grand and Green there are a numberof hackberry trees; and along the entire length of Cataract Canyon thehigh-water line is marked by scattered trees of the same species. A fewnut pines and cedars are found, and occasionally a redbud or Judas tree;but the general aspect of the canyons and of the adjacent country isthat of naked rock. 

The distance through Glen Canyon is 149 miles. Its walls vary in heightfrom 200 or 300 to 1, 600 feet. Marble Canyon is 65 1/2 miles long. Atits head it is 200 feet deep, and it steadily increases in depth to itsfoot, where its walls are 3, 500 feet high. 

CHAPTER XI. 

FROM THE LITTLE COLORADO TO THE FOOT OF THE GRAND CANYON. 

_August 13_. --We are now ready to start on our way down the Great Unknown. Our boats, tied to a common, stake, chafe each other as they are tossedby the fretful river. They ride high and buoyant, for their loads arelighter than we could desire. We have but a month's rations remaining. The flour has been resifted through the mosquito-net sieve; the spoiledbacon has been dried and the worst of it boiled; the few pounds of driedapples have been spread in the sun and reshrunken to their normal bulk. The sugar has all melted and gone on its way down the river. But we havea large sack of coffee. The lightening of the boats has this advantage:they will ride the waves better and we shall have but little to carrywhen we make a portage. 

We are three quarters of a mile in the depths of the earth, and thegreat river shrinks into insignificance as it dashes its angry wavesagainst the walls and cliffs that rise to the world above; the waves arebut puny ripples, and we but pigmies, running up and down the sands orlost among the boulders. 

We have an unknown distance yet to run, an unknown river to explore. What falls there are, we know not; what rocks beset the channel, we knownot; what walls rise over the river, we know not. Ah, well! we mayconjecture many things. The men talk as cheerfully as ever; jests arebandied about freely this morning; but to me the cheer is somber and thejests are ghastly. 

With some eagerness and some anxiety and some misgiving we enter thecanyon below and are carried along by the swift water through wallswhich rise from its very edge. They have the same structure that wenoticed yesterday--tiers of irregular shelves below, and, above these, steep slopes to the foot of marble cliffs. We run six miles in a littlemore than half an hour and emerge into a more open portion of thecanyon, where high hills and ledges of rock intervene between the riverand the distant walls. Just at the head of this open place the riverruns across a dike; that is, a fissure in the rocks, open to depthsbelow, was filled with eruptive matter, and this on cooling was harderthan the rocks through which the crevice was made, and when these werewashed away the harder volcanic matter remained as a wall, and the riverhas cut a gateway through it several hundred feet high and as many wide. As it crosses the wall, there is a fall below and a bad rapid, filledwith boulders of trap; so we stop to make a portage. Then on we go, gliding by hills and ledges, with distant walls in view; sweeping pastsharp angles of rock; stopping at a few points to examine rapids, whichwe find can be run, until we have made another five miles, when we landfor dinner. 

Then we let down with lines over a long rapid and start again. Once morethe walls close in, and we find ourselves in a narrow gorge, the wateragain filling the channel and being very swift. With great care andconstant watchfulness we proceed, making about four miles thisafternoon, and camp in a cave. 

_August 14-_--At daybreak we walk down the bank of the river, on alittle sandy beach, to take a view of a new feature in the canyon. Heretofore hard rocks have given us bad river; soft rocks, smooth water;and a series of rocks harder than any we have experienced sets in. Theriver enters the gneiss! We can see but a little way into the granitegorge, but it looks threatening. 

After breakfast we enter on the waves. At the very introduction itinspires awe. The canyon is narrower than we have ever before seen it;the water is swifter; there are but few broken rocks in the channel; butthe walls are set, on either side, with pinnacles and crags; and sharp, angular buttresses, bristling with wind- and wave-polished spires, extend far out into the river. 

Ledges of rock jut into the stream, their tops sometimes just below thesurface, sometimes rising a few or many feet above; and island ledgesand island pinnacles and island towers break the swift course of thestream into chutes and eddies and whirlpools. We soon reach a placewhere a creek comes in from the left, and, just below, the channel ischoked with boulders, which have washed down this lateral canyon andformed a dam, over which there is a fall of 30 or 40 feet; but on theboulders foothold can be had, and we make a portage. Three more suchdams are found. Over one we make a portage; at the other two are chutesthrough which we can run. 

As we proceed the granite rises higher, until nearly a thousand feet ofthe lower part of the walls are composed of this rock. 

About eleven o'clock we hear a great roar ahead, and approach it verycautiously. The sound grows louder and louder as we run, and at last wefind ourselves above a long, broken fall, with ledges and pinnacles ofrock obstructing the river. There is a descent of perhaps 75 or 80 feetin a third of a mile, and the rushing waters break into great waveson the rocks, and lash themselves into a mad, white foam. We can landjust above, but there is no foothold on either side by which we can makea portage. It is nearly a thousand feet to the top of the granite;so it will be impossible to carry our boats around, though we can climbto the summit up a side gulch and, passing along a mile or two, descendto the river. This we find on examination; but such a portage would beimpracticable for us, and we must run the rapid or abandon the river. There is no hesitation. We step into our boats, push off, and away wego, first on smooth but swift water, then we strike a glassy wave andride to its top, down again into the trough, up again on a higher wave, and down and up on waves higher and still higher until we strike onejust as it curls back, and a breaker rolls over our little boat. Stillon we speed, shooting past projecting rocks, till the little boat iscaught in a whirlpool and spun round several times. At last we pull outagain into the stream. And now the other boats have passed us. The opencompartment of the "Emma Dean" is filled with water and every breakerrolls over us. Hurled back from a rock, now on this side, now on that, we are carried into an eddy, in which we struggle for a few minutes, andare then out again, the breakers still rolling over us. Our boat isunmanageable, but she cannot sink, and we drift down another hundredyards through breakers--how, we scarcely know. We find the other boatshave turned into an eddy at the foot of the fall and are waiting tocatch us as we come, for the men have seen that our boat is swamped. They push out as we come near and pull us in against the wall. Our boatbailed, on we go again. 

The walls now are more than a mile in height--a vertical distancedifficult to appreciate. Stand on the south steps of the Treasurybuilding in Washington and look down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol;measure this distance overhead, and imagine cliffs to extend to thataltitude, and you will understand what is meant; or stand at CanalStreet in New York and look up Broadway to Grace Church, and you haveabout the distance; or stand at Lake Street bridge in Chicago and lookdown to the Central Depot, and you have it again. 

A thousand feet of this is up through granite crags; then steep slopesand perpendicular cliffs rise one above another to the summit. The gorgeis black and narrow below, red and gray and flaring above, with cragsand angular projections on the walls, which, cut in many places by sidecanyons, seem to be a vast wilderness of rocks. Down in these grand, gloomy depths we glide, ever listening, for the mad waters keepup their roar; ever watching, ever peering ahead, for the narrow canyonis winding and the river is closed in so that we can see but a fewhundred yards, and what there may be below we know not; so we listen forfalls and watch for rocks, stopping now and then in the bay of a recessto admire the gigantic scenery; and ever as we go there is some newpinnacle or tower, some crag or peak, some distant view of the upperplateau, some strangely shaped rock, or some deep, narrow side canyon. 

Then we come to another broken fall, which appears more difficult thanthe one we ran this morning. A small creek comes in on the right, andthe first fall of the water is over boulders, which have been carrieddown by this lateral stream. We land at its mouth and stop for an houror two to examine the fall. It seems possible to let down with lines, atleast a part of the way, from point to point, along the right-hand wall. So we make a portage over the first rocks and find footing on someboulders below. Then we let down one of the boats to the end of herline, when she reaches a corner of the projecting rock, to which one ofthe men clings and steadies her while I examine an eddy below. I thinkwe can pass the other boats down by us and catch them in the eddy. Thisis soon done, and the men in the boats in the eddy pull us to theirside. On the shore of this little eddy there is about two feet of gravelbeach above the water. Standing on this beach, some of the men take theline of the little boat and let it drift down against another projectingangle. Here is a little shelf, on which a man from my boat climbs, and ashorter line is passed to him, and he fastens the boat to the side ofthe cliff; then the second one is let down, bringing the line of thethird. When the second boat is tied up, the two men standing on thebeach above spring into the last boat, which is pulled up alongside ofours; then we let down the boats for 25 or 30 yards by walking along theshelf, landing them again in the mouth of a side canyon. Just below thisthere is another pile of boulders, over which we make another portage. From the foot of these rocks we can climb to another shelf, 40 or 50feet above the water. 

On this bench we camp for the night. It is raining hard, and we have noshelter, but find a few sticks which have lodged in the rocks, andkindle a fire and have supper. We sit on the rocks all night, wrapped inour _ponchos, _ getting what sleep we can. 

_August 15. --_This morning we find we can let down for 300 or 400 yards, and it is managed in this way: we pass along the wall by climbing fromprojecting point to point, sometimes near the water's edge, at otherplaces 50 or 60 feet above, and hold the boat with a line while two menremain aboard and prevent her from being dashed against the rocks andkeep the line from getting caught on the wall. In two hours we havebrought them all down, as far as it is possible, in this way. A fewyards below, the river strikes with great violence against a projectingrock and our boats are pulled up in a little bay above. We must nowmanage to pull out of this and clear the point below. The little boat isheld by the bow obliquely up the stream. We jump in and pull out only afew strokes, and sweep clear of the dangerous rock. The other boatsfollow in the same manner and the rapid is passed. 

It is not easy to describe the labor of such navigation. We must preventthe waves from dashing the boats against the cliffs. Sometimes, wherethe river is swift, we must put a bight of rope about a rock, to preventthe boat from being snatched from us by a wave; but where the plunge istoo great or the chute too swift, we must let her leap and catch herbelow or the undertow will drag her under the falling water and sinkher. Where we wish to run her out a little way from shore through achannel between rocks, we first throw in little sticks of driftwood andwatch their course, to see where we must steer so that she will pass thechannel in safety. And so we hold, and let go, and pull, and lift, andward--among rocks, around rocks, and over rocks. 

And now we go on through this solemn, mysterious way. The river is verydeep, the canyon very narrow, and still obstructed, so that there is nosteady flow of the stream; but the waters reel and roll and boil, and weare scarcely able to determine where we can go. Now the boat is carriedto the right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she is shot into thestream, and perhaps is dragged over to the other side, where, caught ina whirlpool, she spins about. We can neither land nor run as we please. The boats are entirely unmanageable; no order in their running can bepreserved; now one, now another, is ahead, each crew laboring for itsown preservation. In such a place we come to another rapid. Two of theboats run it perforce. One succeeds in landing, but there is no footholdby which to make a portage and she is pushed out again into the stream. The next minute a great reflex wave fills the open compartment; she iswater-logged, and drifts unmanageable. Breaker after breaker rolls overher and one capsizes her. The men are thrown out; but they cling to theboat, and she drifts down some distance alongside of us and we are ableto catch her. She is soon bailed out and the men are aboard once more;but the oars are lost, and so a pair from the "Emma Dean" is spared. Then for two miles we find smooth water. 

Clouds are playing in the canyon to-day. Sometimes they roll down ingreat masses, filling the gorge with gloom; sometimes they hang aloftfrom wall to wall and cover the canyon with a roof of impending storm, and we can peer long distances up and down this canyon corridor, withits cloud-roof overhead, its walls of black granite, and its riverbright with the sheen of broken waters. Then a gust of wind sweeps downa side gulch and, making a rift in the clouds, reveals the blue heavens, and a stream of sunlight pours in. Then the clouds drift away into thedistance, and hang around crags and peaks and pinnacles and towers andwalls, and cover them with a mantle that lifts from time to time andsets them all in sharp relief. Then baby clouds creep out of sidecanyons, glide around points, and creep back again into more distantgorges. Then clouds arrange in strata across the canyon, withintervening vista views to cliffs and rocks beyond. The clouds arechildren of the heavens, and when they play among the rocks they liftthem to the region above. 

It rains! Rapidly little rills are formed above, and these soon growinto brooks, and the brooks grow into creeks and tumble over the wallsin innumerable cascades, adding their wild music to the roar of theriver. When the rain ceases the rills, brooks, and creeks run dry. Thewaters that fall during a rain on these steep rocks are gathered at onceinto the river; they could scarcely be poured in more suddenly if somevast spout ran from the clouds to the stream itself. When a storm burstsover the canyon a side gulch is dangerous, for a sudden flood may come, and the inpouring waters will raise the river so as to hide the rocks. 

Early in the afternoon we discover a stream entering from the north--aclear, beautiful creek, coming down through a gorgeous red canyon. Weland and camp on a sand beach above its mouth, under a great, overspreading tree with willow-shaped leaves. 

_August 16. --_We must dry our rations again to-day and make oars. 

The Colorado is never a clear stream, but for the past three or fourdays it has been raining much of the time, and the floods poured overthe walls have brought down great quantities of mud, making itexceedingly turbid now. The little affluent which we have discoveredhere is a clear, beautiful creek, or river, as it would be termed inthis western country, where streams are not abundant. We have named onestream, away above, in honor of the great chief of the "Bad Angels, " andas this is in beautiful contrast to that, we conclude to name it "BrightAngel. "

Early in the morning the whole party starts _up_ to explore the BrightAngel River, with the special purpose of seeking timber from which tomake oars. A couple of miles above we find a large pine log, which hasbeen floated down from the plateau, probably from an altitude of morethan 6, 000 feet, but not many miles back. On its way it must have passedover many cataracts and falls, for it bears scars in evidence of therough usage which it has received. The men roll it on skids, and thework of sawing oars is commenced. 

This stream heads away back under a line of abrupt cliffs thatterminates the plateau, and tumbles down more than 4, 000 feet in thefirst mile or two of its course; then runs through a deep, narrow canyonuntil it reaches the river. 

Late in the afternoon I return and go up a little gulch just above thiscreek, about 200 yards from camp, and discover the ruins of two or threeold houses, which were originally of stone laid in mortar. Only thefoundations are left, but irregular blocks, of which the houses wereconstructed, lie scattered about. In one room I find an oldmealing-stone, deeply worn, as if it had been much used. A great deal ofpottery is strewn around, and old trails, which in some places aredeeply worn into the rocks, are seen. 

It is ever a source of wonder to us why these ancient people sought suchinaccessible places for their homes. They were, doubtless, anagricultural race, but there are no lands here of any considerableextent that they could have cultivated. To the west of Oraibi, one ofthe towns in the Province of Tusayan, in northern Arizona, theinhabitants have actually built little terraces along the face of thecliff where a spring gushes out, and thus made their sites for gardens. It is possible that the ancient inhabitants of this place made theiragricultural lands in the same way. But why should they seek suchspots'? Surely the country was not so crowded with people as to demandthe utilization of so barren a region. The only solution suggested ofthe problem is this: We know that for a century or two after thesettlement of Mexico many expeditious were sent into the country nowcomprising Arizona and New Mexico, for the purpose of bringing thetown-building people under the dominion of the Spanish government. Manyof their villages were destroyed, and the inhabitants fled to regions atthat time unknown; and there are traditions among the people who inhabitthe pueblos that still remain that the canyons were these unknown lauds. It may be these buildings were erected at that time; sure it is thatthey have a much more modern appearance than the ruins scattered overNevada, Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. Those old Spanishconquerors had a monstrous greed for gold and a wonderful lust forsaving souls. Treasures they must have, if not on earth, why, then, inheaven; and when they failed to find heathen temples bedecked withsilver, they propitiated Heaven by seizing the heathen themselves. Thereis yet extant a copy of a record made by a heathen artist to express hisconception of the demands of the conquerors. In one part of the picturewe have a lake, and near by stands a priest pouring water on the head ofa native. On the other side, a poor Indian has a cord about his throat. Lines run from these two groups to a central figure, a man with beardand full Spanish panoply. The interpretation of the picture-writing isthis: "Be baptized as this saved heathen, or be hanged as that damnedheathen. " Doubtless, some of these people preferred another alternative, and rather than be baptized or hanged they chose to imprison themselveswithin these canyon walls. 

_August 17. --_Our rations are still spoiling; the bacon is so badlyinjured that we are compelled to throw it away. By an accident, thismorning, the saleratus was lost overboard. We have now only musty floursufficient for ten days and a few dried apples, but plenty of coffee. Wemust make all haste possible. If we meet with difficulties such as wehave encountered in the canyon above, we may be compelled to give up theexpedition and try to reach the Mormon settlements to the north. 

Our hopes are that the worst places are passed, but our barometers areall so much injured as to be useless, and so we have lost our reckoningin altitude, and know not how much descent the river has yet to make. The stream is still wild and rapid and rolls through a narrow channel. We make but slow progress, often landing against a wall and climbingaround some point to see the river below. Although very anxious toadvance, we are determined to run with great caution, lest by anotheraccident we lose our remaining supplies. How precious that little flourhas become! We divide it among the boats and carefully store it away, sothat it can be lost only by the loss of the boat itself. 

We make ten miles and a half, and camp among the rocks on the right. Wehave had rain from time to time all day, and have been thoroughlydrenched and chilled; but between showers the sun shines with greatpower and the mercury in our thermometers stands at 115 degrees, so thatwe have rapid changes from great extremes, which are very disagreeable. It is especially cold in the rain to-night. The little canvas we have isrotten and useless; the rubber _ponchos_ with which we started fromGreen River City have all been lost; more than half the party arewithout hats, not one of us has an entire suit of clothes, and we havenot a blanket apiece. So we gather driftwood and build a fire; but aftersupper the rain, coming down in torrents, extinguishes it, and we sit upall night on the rocks, shivering, and are more exhausted by the night'sdiscomfort than by the day's toil. 

_August 18. _--The day is employed in making portages and we advance buttwo miles on our journey. Still it rains. 

While the men are at work making portages I climb up the granite to itssummit and go away back over the rust-colored sandstones andgreenish-yellow shales to the foot of the marble wall. I climb so highthat the men and boats are lost in the black depths below and thedashing river is a rippling brook, and still there is more canyon abovethan below. All about me are interesting geologic records. The book isopen and I can read as I run. All about me are grand views, too, for theclouds are playing again in the gorges. But somehow I think of the ninedays' rations and the bad river, and the lesson of the rocks and theglory of the scene are but half conceived. I push on to an angle, whereI hope to get a view of the country beyond, to see if possible what theprospect may be of our soon running through this plateau, or at least ofmeeting with some geologic change that will let us out of the granite;but, arriving at the point, I can see below only a labyrinth of blackgorges. 

_August 19. --_Rain again this morning. We are in our granite prisonstill, and the time until noon is occupied in making a long; badportage. 

After dinner, in running a rapid the pioneer boat is upset by a wave. Weare some distance in advance of the larger boats. The river is rough andswift and we are unable to land, but cling to the boat and are carrieddown stream over another rapid. The men in the boats above see ourtrouble, but they are caught in whirlpools and are spinning about ineddies, and it seems a long time before they come to our relief. At lastthey do come; our boat is turned right side up and bailed out; the oars, which fortunately have floated along in company with us, are gatheredup, and on we go, without even landing. The clouds break away and wehave sunshine again. 

Soon we find a little beach with just room enough to land. Here we camp, but there is no wood. Across the river and a little way above, we seesome driftwood lodged in the rocks. So we bring two boat loads over, build a huge fire, and spread everything to dry. It is the firstcheerful night we have had for a week--a warm, drying fire in the midstof the camp, and a few bright stars in our patch of heavens overhead. 

_August 20. --_The characteristics of the canyon change this morning. Theriver is broader, the walls more sloping, and composed of black slatesthat stand on edge. These nearly vertical slates are washed out inplaces--that is, the softer beds are washed out between the harder, which are left standing. In this way curious little alcoves are formed, in which are quiet bays of water, but on a much smaller scale than thegreat bays and buttresses of Marble Canyon. 

The river is still rapid and we stop to let down with lines severaltimes, but make greater progress, as we run ten miles. We camp on theright bank. Here, on a terrace of trap, we discover another group ofruins. There was evidently quite a village on this rock. Again we findmealing-stones and much broken pottery, and up on a little natural shelfin the rock back of the ruins we find a globular basket that would holdperhaps a third of a bushel. It is badly broken, and as I attempt totake it up it falls to pieces. There are many beautiful flint chips, also, as if this had been the home of an old arrow-maker. 

_August 21. --_We start early this morning, cheered by the prospect of afine day and encouraged also by the good run made yesterday. A quarterof a mile below camp the river turns abruptly to the left, and betweencamp and that point is very swift, running down in a long, broken chuteand piling up against the foot of the cliff, where it turns to the left. We try to pull across, so as to go down on the other side, but thewaters are swift and it seems impossible for us to escape the rockbelow; but, in pulling across, the bow of the boat is turned to thefarther shore, so that we are swept broadside down and are prevented bythe rebounding waters from striking against the wall. We toss about fora few seconds in these billows and are then carried past the danger. Below, the river turns again to the right, the canyon is very narrow, and we see in advance but a short distance. The water, too, is veryswift, and there is no landing-place. From around this curve there comesa mad roar, and down we are carried with a dizzying velocity to the headof another rapid. On either side high over our heads there areoverhanging granite walls, and the sharp bends cut off our view, so thata few minutes will carry us into unknown waters. Away we go on one long, winding chute. I stand on deck, supporting myself with a strap fastenedon either side of the gunwale. The boat glides rapidly where the wateris smooth, then, striking a wave, she leaps and bounds like a thing oflife, and we have a wild, exhilarating ride for ten miles, which we makein less than an hour. The excitement is so great that we forget thedanger until we hear the roar of a great fall below; then we back on ouroars and are carried slowly toward its head and succeed in landing justabove and find that we have to make another portage. At this we areengaged until some time after dinner. 

Just here we run out of the granite. Ten miles in less than half a day, and limestone walls below. Good cheer returns; we forget the storms andthe gloom and the cloud-covered canyons and the black granite and theraging river, and push our boats from shore in great glee. 

Though we are out of the granite, the river is still swift, and we wheelabout a point again to the right, and turn, so as to head back in thedirection from which we came; this brings the granite in sight again, with its narrow gorge and black crags; but we meet with no more greatfalls or rapids. Still, we run cautiously and stop from time to time toexamine some places which look bad. Yet we make ten miles thisafternoon; twenty miles in all to-day. 

_August 22. --_We come to rapids again this morning and are occupiedseveral hours in passing them, letting the boats down from rock to rockwith lines for nearly half a mile, and then have to make a long portage. While the men are engaged in this I climb the wall on the northeast toa height of about 2, 500 feet, where I can obtain a good view of a longstretch of canyon below. Its course is to the southwest. The walls seemto rise very abruptly for 2, 500 or 3, 000 feet, and then there is agently sloping terrace on each side for two or three miles, when weagain find cliffs, 1, 500 or 2, 000 feet high. From the brink of these theplateau stretches back to the north and south for a long distance. Awaydown the canyon on the right wall I can see a group of mountains, someof which appear to stand on the brink of the canyon. The effect of theterrace is to give the appearance of a narrow winding valley with highwalls on either side and a deep, dark, meandering gorge down its middle. It is impossible from this point of view to determine whether or not wehave granite at the bottom; but from geologic considerations, I concludethat we shall have marble walls below. 

After my return to the boats we run another mile and camp for the night. We have made but little over seven miles to-day, and a part of our flourhas been soaked in the river again. 

_August 23. --_Our way to-day is again through marble walls. Now and thenwe pass for a short distance through patches of granite, like hillsthrust up into the limestone. At one of these places we have to makeanother portage, and, taking advantage of the delay, I go up a littlestream to the north, wading it all the way, sometimes having to plungein to my neck, in other places being compelled to swim across littlebasins that have been excavated at the foot of the falls. Along itscourse are many cascades and springs, gushing out from the rocks oneither side. Sometimes a cottonwood tree grows over the water. I come toone beautiful fall, of more than 150 feet, and climb around it to theright on the broken rocks. Still going up, the canyon is found to narrowvery much, being but 15 or 20 feet wide; yet the walls rise on eitherside many hundreds of feet, perhaps thousands; I can hardly tell. 

In some places the stream has not excavated its channel down verticallythrough the rocks, but has cut obliquely, so that one wall overhangs theother. In other places it is cut vertically above and obliquely below, or obliquely above and vertically below, so that it is impossible to seeout overhead. But I can go no farther; the time which I estimated itwould take to make the portage has almost expired, and I start back on around trot, wading in the creek where I must and plunging throughbasins. The men are waiting for me, and away we go on the river. 

Just after dinner we pass a stream on the right, which leaps into' theColorado by a direct fall of more than 100 feet, forming a beautifulcascade. There is a bed of very hard rock above, 30 or 40 feet inthickness, and there are much softer beds below. The hard beds aboveproject many yards beyond the softer, which are washed out, forming adeep cave behind the fall, and the stream pours through a narrow creviceabove into a deep pool below. Around on the rocks in the cavelikechamber are set beautiful ferns, with delicate fronds and enameledstalks. The frondlets have their points turned down to form sporecases. It has very much the appearance of the maidenhair fern, but ismuch larger. This delicate foliage covers the rocks all about thefountain, and gives the chamber great beauty. But we have little time tospend in admiration; so on we go. 

We make fine progress this afternoon, carried along by a swift river, shooting over the rapids and finding no serious obstructions. The canyonwalls for 2, 500 or 3, 000 feet are very regular, rising almostperpendicularly, but here and there set with narrow steps, andoccasionally we can see away above the broad terrace to distant cliffs. 

We camp to-night in a marble cave, and find on looking at our reckoningthat we have run 22 miles. 

_August 24. --_The canyon is wider to-day. The walls rise to a verticalheight of nearly 3, 000 feet. In many places the river runs under a cliffin great curves, forming amphitheaters half-dome shaped. 

Though the river is rapid, we meet with no serious obstructions and run20 miles. How anxious we are to make up our reckoning every time westop, now that our diet is confined to plenty of coffee, a very littlespoiled flour, and very few dried apples! It has come to be a race for adinner. Still, we make such fine progress that all hands are in goodcheer, but not a moment of daylight is lost. 

_August 25. --_We make 12 miles this morning, when we come to monumentsof lava standing in the river, --low rocks mostly, but some of themshafts more than a hundred feet high. Going on down three or four miles, we find them increasing in number. Great quantities of cooled lava andmany cinder cones are seen on either side; and then we come to an abruptcataract. Just over the fall on the right wall a cinder cone, or extinctvolcano, with a well-defined crater, stands on the very brink of thecanyon. This, doubtless, is the one we saw two or three days ago. Fromthis volcano vast floods of lava have been poured down into the river, and a stream of molten rock has run up the canyon three or four milesand down we know not how far. Just where it poured over the canyon wallis the fall. The whole north side as far as we can see is lined with theblack basalt, and high up on the opposite wall are patches of the samematerial, resting on the benches and filling old alcoves and caves, giving the wall a spotted appearance. 

The rocks are broken in two along a line which here crosses the river, and the beds we have seen while coming down the canyon for the last 30miles have dropped 800 feet on the lower side of the line, forming whatgeologists call a "fault. " The volcanic cone stands directly over thefissure thus formed. On the left side of the river, opposite, mammothsprings burst out of this crevice, 100 or 200 feet above the river, pouring in a stream quite equal in volume to the Colorado Chiquito. 

This stream seems to be loaded with carbonate of lime, and the water, evaporating, leaves an incrustation on the rocks; and this process hasbeen continued for a long time, for extensive deposits are noticed inwhich are basins with bubbling springs. The water is salty. 

We have to make a portage here, which is completed in about three hours;then on we go. 

We have no difficulty as we float along, and I am able to observe thewonderful phenomena connected with this flood of lava. The canyon wasdoubtless filled to a height of 1, 200 or 1, 500 feet, perhaps by morethan one flood. This would dam the water back; and in cutting throughthis great lava bed, a new channel has been formed, sometimes on oneside, sometimes on the other. The cooled lava, being of firmer texturethan the rocks of which the walls are composed, remains in some places;in others a narrow channel has been cut, leaving a line of basalt oneither side. It is possible that the lava cooled faster on the sidesagainst the walls and that the center ran out; but of this we can onlyconjecture. There are other places where almost the whole of the lava isgone, only patches of it being seen, where it has caught on the walls. As we float down we can see that it ran out into side canyons. In someplaces this basalt has a fine, columnar structure, often in concentricprisms, and masses of these concentric columns have coalesced. In someplaces, when the flow occurred the canyon was probably about the samedepth that it is now, for we can see where the basalt has rolled out onthe sands, and--what seems curious to me--the sands are not melted ormetamorphosed to any appreciable extent. In places the bed of the riveris of sandstone or limestone, in other places of lava, showing that ithas all been cut out again where the sandstones and limestones appear;but there is a little yet left where the bed is of lava. 

What a conflict of water and fire there must have been here! Justimagine a river of molten rock running down into a river of melted snow. What a seething and boiling of the waters; what clouds of steam rolledinto the heavens!

Thirty-five miles to-day. Hurrah!

_August 26. --_The canyon walls are steadily becoming higher as weadvance. They are still bold and nearly vertical up to the terrace. Westill see evidence of the eruption discovered yesterday, but thethickness of the basalt is decreasing as we go down stream; yet it hasbeen reinforced at points by streams that have come down from volcanoesstanding on the terrace above, but which we cannot see from the riverbelow. 

Since we left the Colorado Chiquito we have seen no evidences that thetribe of Indians inhabiting the plateaus on either side ever come downto the river; but about eleven o'clock to-day we discover an Indiangarden at the foot of the wall on the right, just where a little streamwith a narrow flood plain comes down through a side canyon. Along thevalley the Indians have planted corn, using for irrigation the waterwhich bursts out in springs at the foot of the cliff. The corn islooking quite well, but it is not sufficiently advanced to give usroasting ears; but there are some nice green squashes. We carry ten or adozen of these on board our boats and hurriedly leave, not willing to becaught in the robbery, yet excusing ourselves by pleading our greatwant. We run down a short distance to where we feel certain no Indiancan follow, and what a kettle of squash sauce we make! True, we have nosalt with which to season it, but it makes a fine addition to ourunleavened bread and coffee. Never was fruit so sweet as these stolensquashes. 

After dinner we push on again and make fine time, finding many rapids, but none so bad that we cannot run them with safety; and when we stop, just at dusk, and foot up our reckoning, we find we have run 35 milesagain. A few days like this, and we are out of prison. 

We have a royal supper--unleavened bread, green squash sauce, and strongcoffee. We have been for a few days on half rations, but now have nostint of roast squash. 

_August 27. _--This morning the river takes a more southerly direction. The dip of the rocks is to the north and we are running rapidly intolower formations. Unless our course changes we shall very soon run againinto the granite. This gives some anxiety. Now and then the river turnsto the west and excites hopes that are soon destroyed by another turn tothe south. About nine o'clock we come to the dreaded rock. It is with nolittle misgiving that we see the river enter these black, hard walls. Atits very entrance we have to make a portage; then let down with linespast some ugly rocks. We run a mile or two farther, and then the rapidsbelow can be seen. 

About eleven o'clock we come to a place in the river which seems muchworse than any we have yet met in all its course. A little creek comesdown from the left. We land first on the right and clamber up over thegranite pinnacles for a mile or two, but can see no way by which to letdown, and to run it would be sure destruction. After dinner we cross toexamine on the left. High above the river we can walk along on the topof the granite, which is broken off at the edge and set with crags andpinnacles, so that it is very difficult to get a view of the river atall. In my eagerness to reach a point where I can see the roaring fallbelow, I go too far on the wall, and can neither advance nor retreat. Istand with one foot on a little projecting rock and cling with my handfixed in a little crevice. Finding I am caught here, suspended 400 feetabove the river, into which I must fall if my footing fails, I call forhelp. The men come and pass me a line, but I cannot let go of the rocklong enough to take hold of it. Then they bring two or three of thelargest oars. All this takes time which seems very precious to me; butat last they arrive. The blade of one of the oars is pushed into alittle crevice in the rock beyond me in such a manner that they can holdme pressed against the wall. Then another is fixed in such a way that Ican step on it; and thus I am extricated. 

Still another hour is spent in examining the river from this side, butno good view of it is obtained; so now we return to the side that wasfirst examined, and the afternoon is spent in clambering among the cragsand pinnacles and carefully scanning the river again. We find that thelateral streams have washed boulders into the river, so as to form adam, over which the water makes a broken fall of 18 or 20 feet; thenthere is a rapid, beset with rocks, for 200 or 300 yards, while on theother side, points of the wall project into the river. Below, there is asecond fall; how great, we cannot tell. Then there is a rapid, filledwith huge rocks, for 100 or 200 yards. At the bottom of it, from theright wall, a great rock projects quite halfway across the river. It hasa sloping surface extending up stream, and the water, coming down withall the momentum gained in the falls and rapids above, rolls up thisinclined plane many feet, and tumbles over to the left. I decide that itis possible to let down over the first fall, then run near the rightcliff to a point just above the second, where we can pull out into alittle chute, and, having run over that in safety, if we pull with allour power across the stream, we may avoid the great rock below. On myreturn to the boat I announce to the men that we are to run it in themorning. Then we cross the river and go into camp for the night on somerocks in the mouth of the little side canyon. 

After supper Captain Howland asks to have a talk with me. We walk up thelittle creek a short distance, and I soon find that his object is toremonstrate against my determination to proceed. He thinks that we hadbetter abandon the river here. Talking with him, I learn that he, hisbrother, and William Dunn have determined to go no farther in the boats. So we return to camp. Nothing is said to the other men. 

For the last two days our course has not been plotted. I sit down and dothis now, for the purpose of finding where we are by dead reckoning. Itis a clear night, and I take out the sextant to make observation forlatitude, and I find that the astronomic determination agrees verynearly with that of the plot--quite as closely as might be expected froma meridian observation on a planet. In a direct line, we must be about45 miles from the mouth of the Rio Virgen. If we can reach that point, we know that there are settlements up that river about 20 miles. This 45miles in a direct line will probably be 80 or 90 by the meandering lineof the river. But then we know that there is comparatively open countryfor many miles above the mouth of the Virgen, which is our point ofdestination. 

As soon as I determine all this, I spread my plot on the sand and wakeHowland, who is sleeping down by the river, and show him where I supposewe are, and where several Mormon settlements are situated. 

We have another short talk about the morrow, and he lies down again; butfor me there is no sleep. All night long I pace up and down a littlepath, on a few yards of sand beach, along by the river. Is it wise to goon? I go to the boats again to look at our rations. I feel satisfiedthat we can get over the danger immediately before us; what there may bebelow I know not. From our outlook yesterday on the cliffs, the canyonseemed to make another great bend to the south, and this, from ourexperience heretofore, means more and higher granite walls. I am notsure that we can climb out of the canyon here, and, if at the top of thewall, I know enough of the country to be certain that it is a desert ofrock and sand between this and the nearest Mormon town, which, on themost direct line, must be 75 miles away. True, the late rains have beenfavorable to us, should we go out, for the probabilities are that weshall find water still standing in holes; and at one time I almostconclude to leave the river. But for years I have been contemplatingthis trip. To leave the exploration unfinished, to say that there is apart of the canyon which I cannot explore, having already nearlyaccomplished it, is more than I am willing to acknowledge, and Idetermine to go on. 

I wake my brother and tell him of Howland's determination, and hepromises to stay with me; then I call up Hawkins, the cook, and he makesa like promise; then Sumner and Bradley and Hall, and they all agree togo on. 

_August 28. _--At last daylight comes and we have breakfast without aword being said about the future. The meal is as solemn as a funeral. After breakfast I ask the three men if they still think it best to leaveus. The elder Howland thinks it is, and Dunn agrees with him. Theyounger Howland tries to persuade them to go on with the party; failingin which, he decides to go with his brother. 

Then we cross the river. The small boat is very much disabled andunseaworthy. With the loss of hands, consequent on the departure of thethree men, we shall not be able to run all of the boats; so I decide toleave my "Emma Dean. "

Two rifles and a shotgun are given to the men who are going out. I askthem to help themselves to the rations and take what they think to be afair share. This they refuse to do, saying they have no fear but thatthey can get something to eat; but Billy, the cook, has a pan ofbiscuits prepared for dinner, and these he leaves on a rock. 

Before starting, we take from the boat our barometers, fossils, theminerals, and some ammunition and leave them on the rocks. We are goingover this place as light as possible. The three men help us lift ourboats over a rock 25 or 30 feet high and let them down again over thefirst fall, and now we are all ready to start. The last thing beforeleaving, I write a letter to my wife and give it to Howland. Sumnergives him his watch, directing that it be sent to his sister should henot be heard from again. The records of the expedition have been kept induplicate. One set of these is given to Howland; and now we are ready. For the last time they entreat us not to go on, and tell us that it ismadness to set out in this place; that we can never get safely throughit; and, further, that the river turns again to the south into thegranite, and a few miles of such rapids and falls will exhaust ourentire stock of rations, and then it will be too late to climb out. Sometears are shed; it is rather a solemn parting; each party thinks theother is taking the dangerous course. 

My old boat left, I go on board of the "Maid of the Canyon. " The threemen climb a crag that overhangs the river to watch us off. The "Maid ofthe Canyon" pushes out. We glide rapidly along the foot of the wall, just grazing one great rock, then pull out a little into the chute ofthe second fall and plunge over it. The open compartment is filled whenwe strike the first wave below, but we cut through it, and then the menpull with all their power toward the left wall and swing clear of thedangerous rock below all right. We are scarcely a minute in running it, and find that, although it looked bad from above, we have passed manyplaces that were worse. The other boat follows without more difficulty. We land at the first practicable point below, and fire our guns, as asignal to the men above that we have come over in safety. Here we remaina couple of hours, hoping that they will take the smaller boat andfollow us. We are behind a curve in the canyon and cannot see up towhere we left them, and so we wait until their coming seems hopeless, and then push on. 

And now we have a succession of rapids and falls until noon, all ofwhich we run in safety. Just after dinner we come to another bad place. A little stream comes in from the left, and below there is a fall, andstill below another fall. Above, the river tumbles down, over and amongthe rocks, in whirlpools and great waves, and the waters are lashed intomad, white foam. We run along the left, above this, and soon see that wecannot get down on this side, but it seems possible to let down on theother. We pull up stream again for 200 or 300 yards and cross. Now thereis a bed of basalt on this northern side of the canyon, with a boldescarpment that seems to be a hundred feet high. We can climb it andwalk along its summit to a point where we are just at the head of thefall. Here the basalt is broken down again, so it seems to us, and Idirect the men to take a line to the top of the cliff and let the boatsdown along the wall. One man remains in the boat to keep her clear ofthe rocks and prevent her line from being caught on the projectingangles. I climb the cliff and pass along to a point just over the falland descend by broken rocks, and find that the break of the fall isabove the break of the wall, so that we cannot land, and that stillbelow the river is very bad, and that there is no possibility of aportage. Without waiting further to examine and determine what shall bedone, I hasten back to the top of the cliff to stop the boats fromcoming down. When I arrive _I_ find the men have let one of them down tothe head of the fall. She is in swift water and they are not able topull her back; nor are they able to go on with the line, as it is notlong enough to reach the higher part of the cliff which is just beforethem; so they take a bight around a crag. I send two men back for theother line. The boat is in very swift water, and Bradley is standing inthe open compartment, holding out his oar to prevent her from strikingagainst the foot of the cliff. Now she shoots out into the stream and upas far as the line will permit, and then, wheeling, drives headlongagainst the rock, and then out and back again, now straining on theline, now striking against the rock. As soon as the second line isbrought, we pass it down to him; but his attention is all taken up withhis own situation, and he does not see that we are passing him the line. I stand on a projecting rock, waving my hat to gain his attention, formy voice is drowned by the roaring of the falls. Just at this moment Isee him take his knife from its sheath and step forward to cut the line. He has evidently decided that it is better to go over with the boat asit is than to wait for her to be broken to pieces. As he leans over, theboat sheers again into the stream, the stem-post breaks away and she isloose. With perfect composure Bradley seizes the great scull oar, placesit in the stern rowlock, and pulls with all his power (and he is anathlete) to turn the bow of the boat down stream, for he wishes to gobow down, rather than to drift broadside on. One, two strokes he makes, and a third just as she goes over, and the boat is fairly turned, andshe goes down almost beyond our sight, though we are more than a hundredfeet above the river. Then she comes up again on a great wave, and downand up, then around behind some great rocks, and is lost in the mad, white foam below. We stand frozen with fear, for we see no boat. Bradley is gone! so it seems. But now, away below, we see somethingcoming out of the waves. It is evidently a boat. A moment more, and wesee Bradley standing on deck, swinging his hat to show that he is allright. But he is in a whirlpool. We have the stem-post of his boatattached to the line. How badly she may be disabled we know not. Idirect Sumner and Powell to pass along the cliff and see if they canreach him from below. Hawkins, Hall, and myself run to the other boat, jump aboard, push out, and away we go over the falls. A wave rolls overus and our boat is unmanageable. Another great wave strikes us, and theboat rolls over, and tumbles and tosses, I know not how. All I know isthat Bradley is picking us up. We soon have all right again, and row tothe cliff and wait until Sumner and Powell can come. After a difficultclimb they reach us. We run two or three miles farther and turn again tothe northwest, continuing until night, when we have run out of thegranite once more. 

_August 29. --_We start very early this morning. The river stillcontinues swift, but we have no serious difficulty, and at twelveo'clock emerge from the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. We are in a valleynow, and low mountains are seen in the distance, coming to the riverbelow. We recognize this as the Grand Wash. 

A few years ago a party of Mormons set out from St. George, Utah, takingwith them a boat, and came down to the Grand Wash, where they divided, aportion of the party crossing the river to explore the San FranciscoMountains. Three men--Hamblin, Miller, and Crosby--taking the boat, wenton down the river to Callville, landing a few miles below the mouth ofthe Rio Virgen. We have their manuscript journal with us, and so thestream is comparatively well known. 

To-night we camp on the left bank, in a mesquite thicket. 

The relief from danger and the joy of success are great. When he who hasbeen chained by wounds to a hospital cot until his canvas tent seemslike a dungeon cell, until the groans of those who lie about torturedwith probe and knife are piled up, a weight of horror on his ears thathe cannot throw off, cannot forget, and until the stench of festeringwounds and anaesthetic drugs has filled the air with its loathsomeburthen, --when he at last goes out into the open field, what a world hesees! How beautiful the sky, how bright the sunshine, what "floods ofdelirious music" pour from the throats of birds, how sweet the fragranceof earth and tree and blossom! The first hour of convalescent freedomseems rich recompense for all pain and gloom and terror. 

Something like these are the feelings we experience to-night. Everbefore us has been an unknown danger, heavier than immediate peril. Every waking hour passed in the Grand Canyon has been one of toil. Wehave watched with deep solicitude the steady disappearance of our scantsupply of rations, and from time to time have seen the river snatch aportion of the little left, while we were a-hungered. And danger andtoil were endured in those gloomy depths, where ofttimes clouds hid thesky by day and but a narrow zone of stars could be seen at night. Onlyduring the few hours of deep sleep, consequent on hard labor, has theroar of the waters been hushed. Now the danger is over, now the toil hasceased, now the gloom has disappeared, now the firmament is bounded onlyby the horizon, and what a vast expanse of constellations can be seen!

The river rolls by us in silent majesty; the quiet of the camp is sweet;our joy is almost ecstasy. We sit till long after midnight talking ofthe Grand Canyon, talking of home, but talking chiefly of the three menwho left us. Are they wandering in those depths, unable to find a wayout? Are they searching over the desert lands above for water? Or arethey nearing the settlements?

_August 30. --_We run in two or three short, low canyons to-day, and onemerging from one we discover a band of Indians in the valley below. They see us, and scamper away in eager haste to hide among the rocks. Although we land and call for them to return, not an Indian can be seen. 

Two or three miles farther down, in turning a short bend of the river, we come upon another camp. So near are we before they can see us that Ican shout to them, and, being able to speak a little of their language, I tell them we are friends; but they all flee to the rocks, except aman, a woman, and two children. We land and talk with them. They arewithout lodges, but have built little shelters of boughs, under which'they wallow in the sand. The man is dressed in a hat; the woman, in astring of beads only. At first they are evidently much terrified; butwhen I talk to them in their own language and tell them we are friends, and inquire after people in the Mormon towns, they are soon reassuredand beg for tobacco. Of this precious article we have none to spare. Sumner looks around in the boat for something to give them, and finds alittle piece of colored soap, which they receive as a valuablepresent, --rather as a thing of beauty than as a useful commodity, however. They are either unwilling or unable to tell us anything aboutthe Indians or white people, and so we push off, for we must lose notime. 

We camp at noon under the right bank. And now as we push out we are ingreat expectancy, for we hope every minute to discover the mouth of theRio Virgen. Soon one of the men exclaims: "Yonder's an Indian in theriver. " Looking for a few minutes, we certainly do see two or threepersons. The men bend to their oars and pull toward them. Approaching, we see that there are three white men and an Indian hauling a seine, andthen we discover that it is just at the mouth of the long-sought river. 

As we come near, the men seem far less surprised to see us than we do tosee them. They evidently know who we are, and on talking with them theytell us that we have been reported lost long ago, and that some weeksbefore a messenger had been sent from Salt Lake City with instructionsfor them to watch for any fragments or relics of our party that mightdrift down the stream. 

Our new-found friends, Mr. Asa and his two sons, tell us that they arepioneers of a town that is to be built on the bank. Eighteen or twentymiles up the valley of the Rio Virgen there are two Mormon towns, St. Joseph and St. Thomas. To-night we dispatch an Indian to thelast-mentioned place to bring any letters that may be there for us. 

Our arrival here is very opportune. When we look over our store ofsupplies, we find about 10 pounds of flour, 15 pounds of dried apples, but 70 or 80 pounds of coffee. 

_August 81. --_This afternoon the Indian returns with a letter informingus that Bishop Leithhead of St. Thomas and two or three other Mormonsare coming down with a wagon, bringing us supplies. They arrive aboutsundown. Mr. Asa treats us with great kindness to the extent of hisability; but Bishop Leithhead brings in his wagon two or three dozenmelons and many other little luxuries, and we are comfortable once more. 

_September 1. --_This morning Sumner, Bradley, Hawkins, and Hall, takingon a small supply of rations, start down the Colorado with the boats. Itis their intention to go to Fort Mojave, and perhaps from there overlandto Los Angeles. 

Captain Powell and myself return with Bishop Leithhead to St. Thomas. From St. Thomas we go to Salt Lake City. 

CHAPTER XII. 

THE RIO VIRGEN AND THE UINKARET MOUNTAINS. 

A year has passed, and we have determined to resume the exploration ofthe canyons of the Colorado. Our last trip was so hurried, owing to theloss of rations, and the scientific instruments were so badly injured, that we are not satisfied with the results obtained; so we shall oncemore attempt to pass through the canyons in boats, devoting two or threeyears to the trip. 

It will not be possible to carry in the boats sufficient supplies forthe party for that length of time; so it is thought best to establishdepots of supplies, at intervals of 100 or 200 miles along the river. 

Between Gunnison's Crossing and the foot of the Grand Canyon, we know ofonly two points where the river can be reached--one at the Crossing ofthe Fathers, and another a few miles below, at the mouth of the Paria, on a route which has been explored by Jacob Hamblin, a Mormonmissionary. These two points are so near each other that only one ofthem can be selected for the purpose above mentioned, and others must befound. We have been unable up to this time to obtain, either fromIndians or white men, any information which will give us a clue to anyother trail to the river. 

At the headwaters of the Sevier, we are on the summit of a greatwatershed. The Sevier itself flows north and then westward into the lakeof the same name. The Rio Virgen, heading near by, flows to thesouthwest into the Colorado, 60 or 70 miles below the Grand Canyon. TheKanab, also heading near by, runs directly south into the very heart ofthe Grand Canyon. The Paria, likewise heading near by, runs a littlesouth of east and enters the river at the head of Marble Canyon. To thenortheast from this point, other streams which run into the Coloradohave their sources, until, 40 or 50 miles away, we reach thesouthern branches of the Dirty Devil River, the mouth of which stream isbut a short distance below the junction of the Grand and Green. 

The Paunsa'gunt Plateau terminates in a point, which is bounded by aline of beautiful pink cliffs. At the foot of this plateau, on the west, the Rio Virgen and Sevier River are dovetailed together, as their minuteupper branches interlock. The upper surface of the plateau inclines tothe northeast, so that its waters roll off into the Sevier; but from thefoot of the cliffs, quite around the sharp angle of the plateau, for adozen miles, we find numerous springs, whose waters unite to form theKanab. A little farther to the northeast the springs gather into streamsthat feed the Paria. Here, by the upper springs of the Kanab, we make acamp, and from this point we are to radiate on a series of trips, southwest, south, and east. 

Jacob Hamblin, who has been a missionary among the Indians for more thantwenty years, has collected a number of Kai'vavits, withChuar'-ruumpeak, their chief, and they are all camped with us. Theyassure us that we cannot reach the river, that we cannot make our wayinto the depths of the canyon, but promise to show us the springs andwater pockets, which are very scarce in all this region, and to give usall the information in their power. Here we fit up a pack train, for ourbedding and instruments and supplies are to be carried on the backs ofmules and ponies. 

_September 5, 1870. --_The several members of the party are engaged ingeneral preparation for our trip down to the Grand Canyon. 

Taking with me a white man and an Indian, I start on a climb to thesummit of the Paunsa'gunt Plateau, which rises above us on the east. Ourway for a mile or more is over a great peat bog, which trembles underour feet, and now and then a mule sinks through the broken turf and weare compelled to pull it out with ropes. Passing the bog, our way is upa gulch at the foot of the Pink Cliffs, which form the escarpment, orwall, of the great plateau. Soon we leave the gulch and climb a longridge which winds around to the right toward the summit of the greattable. 

Two hours' riding, climbing, and clambering bring us near the top. Welook below and see clouds drifting up from the south and rollingtumultuously toward the foot of the cliffs beneath us. Soon all thecountry below is covered with a sea of vapor--a billowy, raging, noiseless sea--and as the vapory flood still rolls up from the south, great waves dash against the foot of the cliffs and roll back; anothertide comes in, is hurled back, and another and another, lashing thecliffs until the fog rises to the summit and covers us all. There is aheavy pine and fir forest above, beset with dead and fallen timber, andwe make our way through the undergrowth to the east. 

It rains. The clouds discharge their moisture in torrents, and we makefor ourselves shelters of boughs, only to be soon abandoned, and westand shivering by a great fire of pine logs and boughs, which thepelting storm half extinguishes. 

One, two, three, four hours of the storm, and at last it partiallyabates. During this time our animals, which we have turned loose, havesought for themselves shelter under the trees, and two of them havewandered away beyond our sight. I go out to follow their tracks, andcome near to the brink of a ledge of rocks, which, in the fog and mist, I suppose to be a little ridge, and I look for a way by which I can godown. Standing just here, there is a rift made in the fog below by somecurrent or blast of wind, which reveals an almost bottomless abyss. Ilook from the brink of a great precipice of more than 2, 000 feet; butthrough the mist the forms are half obscured and all reckoning ofdistance is lost, and it seems 10, 000 feet, ten miles--any distance theimagination desires to make it. 

Catching our animals, we return to the camp. We find that the littlestreams which come down from the plateau are greatly swollen, but atcamp they have had no rain. The clouds which drifted up from the south, striking against the plateau, were lifted up into colder regions anddischarged their moisture on the summit and against the sides of theplateau, but there was no rain in the valley below. 

_September 9. --_We make a fair start this morning from the beautifulmeadow at the head of the Kanab, cross the line of little hills at theheadwaters of the Rio Virgen, and pass, to the south, a pretty valley. At ten o'clock we come to the brink of a great geographic bench--a lineof cliffs. Behind us are cool springs, green meadows, and forest-cladslopes; below us, stretching to the south until the world is lost inblue haze, is a painted desert--not a desert plain, but a desert ofrocks cut by deep gorges and relieved by towering cliffs and pinnacledrocks--naked rocks, brilliant in the sunlight. 

By a difficult trail we make our way down the basaltic ledge, throughwhich innumerable streams here gather into a little river running in adeep canyon. The river runs close to the foot of the cliffs on theright-hand side and the trail passes along to the right. At noon we restand our animals feed on luxuriant grass. 

Again we start and make slow progress along a stony way. At night wecamp under an overarching cliff. 

_September 10. _--Here the river turns to the west, and our way, properly, is to the south; but we wish to explore the Rio Virgen as faras possible. The Indians tell us that the canyon narrows gradually a fewmiles below and that it will be impossible to take our animals muchfarther down the river. Early in the morning I go down to examine thehead of this narrow part. After breakfast, having concluded to explorethe canyon for a i few miles on foot, we arrange that the main partyshall climb the cliff and go around to a point 18 or 20 _\_ miles below, where, the Indians say, the animals can be taken down by the river, andthree of us set out on, foot. 

The Indian name of the canyon is Paru'nuweap, or Roaring Water Canyon. Between the little river and the foot of the walls is a dense growth ofwillows, vines, and wild rosebushes, and with great difficulty we makeour way through this tangled mass. It is not a wide stream--only 20 or30 feet across in most places; shallow, but very swift. After spendingsome hours in breaking our way through the mass of vegetation andclimbing rocks here and there, it is determined to wade along thestream. In some places this is an easy task, but here and there we cometo deep holes where we have to wade to our armpits. Soon we come toplaces so narrow that the river fills the entire channel and we wadeperforce. In many places the bottom is a quicksand, into which we sink, and it is with great difficulty that we make progress. In some placesthe holes are so deep that we have to swim, and our little bundles ofblankets and rations are fixed to a raft made of driftwood and pushedbefore us. Now and then there is a little flood-plain, on which we canwalk, and we cross and recross the stream and wade along the channelwhere the water is so swift as almost to carry us off our feet and weare in danger every moment of being swept down, until night comes on. Finding a little patch of flood-plain, on which there is a huge pile ofdriftwood and a clump of box-elders, and near by a mammoth streambursting from the rocks, we soon have a huge fire. Our clothes arespread to dry; we make a cup of coffee, take out our bread and cheeseand dried beef, and enjoy a hearty supper. We estimate that we havetraveled eight miles to-day. 

The canyon here is about 1, 200 feet deep. It has been very narrow andwinding all the way down to this point. 

_September 11. --_Wading again this morning; sinking in the quicksand, swimming the deep waters, and making slow and painful progress where thewaters are swift and the bed of the stream rocky. 

The canyon is steadily becoming deeper and in many places verynarrow--only 20 or 30 feet wide below, and in some places no wider, andeven narrower, for hundreds of feet overhead. There are places where theriver in sweeping by curves has cut far under the rocks, but stillpreserves its narrow channel, so that there is an overhanging wall onone side and an inclined wall on the other. In places a few hundred feetabove, it becomes vertical again, and thus the view to the sky isentirely closed. Everywhere this deep passage is dark and gloomy andresounds with the noise of rapid waters. At noon we are in a canyon2, 500 feet deep, and we come to a fall where the walls are broken downand huge rocks beset the channel, on which we obtain a foothold to reacha level 200 feet below. Here the canyon is again wider, and we find aflood-plain along which we can walk, now on this, and now on that sideof the stream. Gradually the canyon widens; steep rapids, cascades, andcataracts are found along the river, but we wade only when it isnecessary to cross. We make progress with very great labor, having toclimb over piles of broken rocks. 

Late in the afternoon we come to a little clearing in the valley and seeother signs of civilization and by sundown arrive at the Mormon townof Schunesburg; and here we meet the train, and feast on melons andgrapes. 

_September 12. _--Our course for the last two days, through Paru'nuweapCanyon, was directly to the west. Another stream comes down from thenorth and unites just here at Schunesburg with the main branch of theRio Virgen. We determine to spend a day in the exploration of thisstream. The Indians call the canyon through which it runs, Mukun'tu-weap, or Straight, Canyon. Entering this, we have to wadeupstream; often the water fills the entire channel and, although wetravel many miles, we find no flood-plain, talus, or broken piles ofrock at the foot of the cliff. The walls have smooth, plain faces andare everywhere very regular and vertical for a thousand feet or more, where they seem to break back in shelving slopes to higher altitudes;and everywhere, as we go along, we find springs bursting out at the footof the walls, and passing these the river above becomes steadilysmaller. The great body of water which runs below bursts out frombeneath this great bed of red sandstone; as we go up the canyon, itcomes to be but a creek, and then a brook. On the western wall of thecanyon stand some buttes, towers, and high pinnacled rocks. Going up thecanyon, we gain glimpses of them, here and there. Last summer, after ourtrip through the canyons of the Colorado, on our way from the mouth ofthe Virgen to Salt Lake City, these were seen as conspicuous landmarksfrom a distance away to the southwest of 60 or 70 miles. These towerrocks are known as the Temples of the Virgen. 

Having explored this canyon nearly to its head, we return toSchunesburg, arriving quite late at night. 

Sitting in camp this evening, Chuar'ruumpeak, the chief of theKai'vavits, who is one of our party, tells us there is a tradition amongthe tribes of this country that many years ago a great light was seensomewhere in this region by the Paru'shapats, who lived to thesouthwest, and that they supposed it to be a signal kindled to warn themof the approach of the Navajos, who lived beyond the Colorado River tothe east. Then other signal fires were kindled on the Pine ValleyMountains, Santa Clara Mountains, and Uinkaret Mountains, so that allthe tribes of northern Arizona, southern Utah, southern Nevada, andsouthern California were warned of the approaching danger; but when theParu'shapats came nearer, they discovered that it was a fire on one ofthe great temples; and then they knew that the fire was notkindled by men, for no human being could scale the rocks. The_Tu'muurrugwait'sigaip, _ or Rock Rovers, had kindled a fire todeceive the people. So, in the Indian language this is called_Tu'muurruwait'sigaip Tuweap', _ or Rock Rovers' Land. 

_September 13. _--We start very early this morning, for we have a longday's travel before us. Our way is across the Rio Virgen to the south. Coming to the bank of the stream here, we find a strange metamorphosis. The streams we have seen above, running in narrow channels, leaping andplunging over the rocks, raging and roaring in their course, are hereunited and spread in a thin sheet several hundred yards wide and only afew inches deep, but running over a bed of quicksand. Crossing thestream, our trail leads up a narrow canyon, not very deep, and thenamong the hills of golden, red, and purple shales and marls. Climbingout of the valley of the Rio Virgen, we pass through a forest of dwarfcedars and come out at the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs. All day wefollow this Indian trail toward the east, and at night camp at a greatspring, known to the Indians as Yellow Rock Spring, but to the Mormonsas Pipe Spring; and near by there is a cabin in which some Mormonherders find shelter. Pipe Spring is a point just across the Utah linein Arizona, and we suppose it to be about 60 miles from the river. Herethe Mormons design to build a fort another year, as an outpost forprotection against the Indians. We now discharge a number of theIndians, but take two with us for the purpose of showing us the springs, for they are very scarce, very small, and not easily found. Half a dozenare not known in a district of country large enough to make as manygood-sized counties in Illinois. There are no running streams, andthese springs and water pockets are our sole dependence. 

Starting, we leave behind a long line of cliffs, many hundred feet high, composed of orange and vermilion sandstones. I have named them"Vermilion Cliffs. " When we are out a few miles, I look back and see themorning sun shining in splendor on their painted faces; the salientangles are on fire, and the retreating angles are buried in shade, and Igaze on them until my vision dreams and the cliffs appear a long bank ofpurple clouds piled from the horizon high into the heavens. At noon wepass along a ledge of chocolate cliffs, and, taking out our sandwiches, we make a dinner as we ride along. 

Yesterday our Indians discussed for hours the route which we shouldtake. There is one way, farther by 10 or 12 miles, with sure water;another, shorter, where water is found sometimes; their conclusion wasthat water would be found now; and this is the way we go, yet all daylong we are anxious about it. To be out two days with only the waterthat can be carried in two small kegs is to have our animals suffergreatly. At five o'clock we come to the spot, and there is a huge waterpocket containing several barrels. What a relief! Here we camp for thenight. 

_September 15. --_Up at daybreak, for it is a long day's march to thenext water. They say we must "run very hard" to reach it by dark. 

Our course is to the south. From Pipe Spring we can see a mountain, andI recognize it as the one seen last summer from a cliff overlooking theGrand Canyon; and I wish to reach the river just behind the mountain. There are Indians living in the group, of which it is the highest, whomI wish to visit on the way. These mountains are of volcanic origin, andwe soon come to ground that is covered with fragments of lava. The waybecomes very difficult. We have to cross deep ravines, the heads ofcanyons that run into the Grand Canyon. It is curious now to observe theknowledge of our Indians. There is not a trail but what they know; everygulch and every rock seems familiar. I have prided myself on being ableto grasp and retain in my mind the topography of a country; but theseIndians put me to shame. My knowledge is only general, embracing themore important features of a region that remains as a map engraved on mymind; but theirs is particular. They know every rock and every ledge, every gulch and canyon, and just where to wind among these to find apass; and their knowledge is unerring. They cannot describe a countryto you, but they can tell you all the particulars of a route. 

I have but one pony for the two, and they were to ride "turn about"; butChuar'ruumpeak, the chief, rides, and Shuts, the one-eyed, barelegged, merry-faced pigmy, walks, and points the way with a slender cane; thenleaps and bounds by the shortest way, and sits down on a rock and waitsdemurely until we come, always meeting us with a jest, his face a richmine of sunny smiles. 

At dusk we reach the water pocket. It is in a deep gorge on the flank ofthis great mountain. During the rainy season the water rolls down themountain side, plunging over precipices, and excavates a deep basin inthe solid rock below. This basin, hidden from the sun, holds water theyear round. 

_September 16. _--This morning, while the men are packing the animals, Iclimb a little mountain near camp, to obtain a view of the country. Itis a huge pile of volcanic scoria, loose and light as cinders from aforge, which give way under my feet, and I climb with great labor; but, reaching the summit and looking to the southeast, I see once more thelabyrinth of deep gorges that flank the Grand Canyon; in the multitude, I cannot determine whether it is itself in view or not. The memories ofgrand and awful months spent in their deep, gloomy solitudes come up, and I live that life over again for a time. 

I supposed, before starting, that I could get a good view of the greatmountain from this point; but it is like climbing a chair to look at acastle. I wish to discover some way by which it can be ascended, as itis my intention to go to the summit before I return to the settlements. There is a cliff near the summit and I do not see any way yet. Now downI go, sliding on the cinders, making them rattle and clang. 

The Indians say we are to have a short ride to-day and that we shallreach an Indian village, situated by a good spring. Our way is acrossthe spurs that put out from the great mountain as we pass it to theleft. 

Up and down we go across deep ravines, and the fragments of lava clankunder our horses' feet; now among cedars, now among pines, and nowacross mountain-side glades. At one o'clock we descend into a lovelyvalley, with a carpet of waving grass; sometimes there is a little waterin the upper end of it, and during some seasons the Indians we wish tofind are encamped here. Chuar'ruumpeak rides on to find them, and to saywe are friends, otherwise they would run away or propose to fight us, should we come without notice. Soon we see Chuar'ruumpeak riding at fullspeed and hear him shouting at the top of his voice, and away in thedistance are two Indians scampering up the mountain side. One stops; theother still goes on and is soon lost to view. We ride up and findChuar'ruumpeak talking with the one who had stopped. It is one of theladies resident in these mountain glades; she is evidently paying taxes, Godiva-like. She tells us that her people are at the spring; that it isonly two hours' ride; that her good master has gone on to tell them weare coming; and that she is harvesting seeds. 

We sit down and eat our luncheon and share our biscuits with the womanof the mountains; then on we go over a divide between two rounded peaks. I send the party on to the village and climb the peak on the left, riding my horse to the upper limit of trees and then tugging up afoot. From this point I can see the Grand Canyon, and I know where I am. I cansee the Indian village, too, in a grassy valley, embosomed in themountains, the smoke curling up from their fires; my men are turning outtheir horses and a group of natives stand around. Down the mountain I goand reach camp at sunset. After supper we put some cedar boughs on thefire; the dusky villagers sit around, and we have a smoke and a talk. Iexplain the object of my visit, and assure them of my friendlyintentions. Then I ask them about a way down into the canyon. They tellme that years ago a way was discovered by which parties could go down, but that no one has attempted it for a long time; that it is a verydifficult and very dangerous undertaking to reach the "Big Water. " ThenI inquire about the Shi'vwits, a tribe that lives about the springs onthe mountain sides and canyon cliffs to the southwest. They say thattheir village is now about 30 miles away, and promise to send amessenger for them to-morrow morning. 

Having finished our business for the evening, I ask if there is a_tugwi'nagunt_ in camp; that is, if there is any one present who isskilled in relating their mythology. Chuar'ruumpeak saysTomor'rountikai, the chief of these Indians, is a very noted man for hisskill in this matter; but they both object, by saying that the seasonfor _tugwi'nai_ has not yet arrived. But I had anticipated this, andsoon some members of the party come with pipes and tobacco, a largekettle of coffee, and a tray of biscuits, and, after sundry ceremoniesof pipe lighting and smoking, we all feast, and, warmed up by this, tothem, unusually good living, it is decided that the night shall be spentin relating mythology. I ask Tomor'rountikai to tell us about the So'kusWai'unats, or One-Two Boys, and to this he agrees. 

The long winter evenings of an Indian camp are usually devoted to therelation of mythologic stories, which purport to give a history of anancient race of animal gods. The stories are usually told by some oldman, assisted by others of the party, who take secondary parts, whilethe members of the tribe gather about and make comments or receiveimpressions from the morals which are enforced by the story-teller, or, more properly, story-tellers; for the exercise partakes somewhat of thenature of a theatrical performance. 

THE SO'KUS WAI'UNATS. 

Tumpwinai'rogwinump, He Who Had A Stone Shirt, killed Sikor', the Crane, and stole his wife, and seeing that she had a child and thinking itwould be an incumbrance to them on their travels, he ordered her to killit. But the mother, loving the babe, hid it under her dress and carriedit away to its grandmother. And Stone Shirt carried his captured brideto his own land. 

In a few years the child grew to be a fine lad, under the care of hisgrandmother, and was her companion wherever she went. 

One day they were digging flag roots on the margin of the river andputting them in a heap on the bank. When they had been at work a littlewhile, the boy perceived that the roots came up with greater ease thanwas customary and he asked the old woman the cause of this, but she didnot know; and, as they continued their work, still the reeds came upwith less effort, at which their wonder increased, until the grandmothersaid, "Surely, some strange thing is about to transpire. "

Then the boy went to the heap where they had been placing the roots, andfound that some one had taken them away, and he ran back, exclaiming, "Grandmother, did you take the roots away?"

And she answered, "No, my child; perhaps some ghost has taken them off; let us dig nomore; come away. "

But the boy was not satisfied, as he greatly desired to know what allthis meant; so he searched about for a time, and at length found a mansitting under a tree, and taunted him with being a thief, and threw mudand stones at him until he broke the stranger's leg. The man answerednot the boy nor resented the injuries he received, but remained silentand sorrowful; and when his leg was broken he tied it up in sticks andbathed it in the river and sat down again under the tree and beckonedthe boy to approach. When the lad came near, the stranger told him hehad something of great importance to reveal. 

"My son, " said he, "did that old woman ever tell you about your fatherand mother?"

"No, " answered the boy; "I have never heard of them. "

"My son, do you see these bones scattered on the ground? Whose bones arethese?"

"How should I know?" answered the boy. "It may be that some elk or deerhas been killed here. "

"No, " said the old man. 

"Perhaps they are the bones of a bear"; but the old man shook his head. 

So the boy mentioned many other animals, but the stranger still shookhis head, and finally said, "These are the bones of your father; Stone Shirt killed him and left himto rot here on the ground like a wolf. "

And the boy was filled with indignation against the slayer of hisfather. 

Then the stranger asked, "Is your mother in yonder lodge?"

"No, " the boy replied. 

"Does your mother live on the banks of this river?"

"I don't know my mother; I have never seen her; she is dead, " answeredthe boy. 

"My son, " replied the stranger, "Stone Shirt, who killed your father, stole your mother and took her away to the shore of a distant lake, andthere she is his wife to-day. "

And the boy wept bitterly and, while the tears filled his eyes so thathe could not see, the stranger disappeared. Then the boy was filled withwonder at what he had seen and heard, and malice grew in his heartagainst his father's enemy. He returned to the old woman and said, "Grandmother, why have you lied to me about my father and mother?"

But she answered not, for she knew that a ghost had told all to the boy. And the boy fell upon the ground weeping and sobbing, until he fell intoa deep sleep, when strange things were told him. 

His slumber continued three days and three nights and when he awoke hesaid to his grandmother:

"I am going away to enlist all nations in my fight. "

And straightway he departed. 

(Here the boy's travels are related with many circumstances concerningthe way he was received by the people, all given in a series ofconversations, very lengthy; so they will be omitted. )

Finally he returned in advance of the people whom he had enlisted, bringing with him Shinau'av, the Wolf, and Togo'av, the Rattlesnake. When the three had eaten food, the boy said to the old woman:

"Grandmother, cut me in two!"

But she demurred, saying she did not wish to kill one whom she loved sodearly. 

"Cut me in two!" demanded the boy; and he gave her a stone ax, which hehad brought from a distant country, and with a manner of great authorityhe again commanded her to cut him in two. So she stood before him andsevered him in twain and fled in terror. And lo! each part took theform of an entire man, and the one beautiful boy appeared as two, andthey were so much alike no one could tell them apart. 

When the people or natives whom the boy had enlisted came pouring intothe camp, Shinau'av and Togo'av were engaged in telling them of thewonderful thing that had happened to the boy, and that now there weretwo; and they all held it to be an augury of a successful expedition tothe land of Stone Shirt. And they started on their journey. 

Now the boy had been told in the dream of his three days' slumber, of amagical cup, and he had brought it home with him from his journey amongthe nations, and the So'kus Wai'unats carried it between them, filledwith water. Shinau'av walked on their right and Togo'av on their left, and the nations followed in the order in which they had been enlisted. There was a vast number of them, so that when they were stretched out inline it was one day's journey from the front to the rear of the column. 

When they had journeyed two days and were far out on the desert, all thepeople thirsted, for they found no water, and they fell down upon thesand groaning and murmuring that they had been deceived, and they cursedthe One-Two. 

But the So'kus Wai'unats had been told in the wonderful dream of thesuffering which would be endured, and that the water which they carriedin the cup was to be used only in dire necessity; and the brothers saidto each other:

"Now the time has come for us to drink the water. "

And when one had quaffed of the magical bowl, he found it still full;and he gave it to the other to drink, and still it was full; and theOne-Two gave it to the people, and one after another did they all drink, and still the cup was full to the brim. 

But Shinau'av was dead, and all the people mourned, for he was a greatman. The brothers held the cup over him and sprinkled him with water, when he arose and said:

"Why do you disturb me? I did have a vision of mountain brooks andmeadows, of cane where honey dew was plenty. "

They gave him the cup and he drank also; but when he had finished therewas none left. Refreshed and rejoicing, they proceeded on their journey. 

The next day, being without food, they were hungry, and all were aboutto perish; and again they murmured at the brothers and cursed them. Butthe So'kus Wai'unats saw in the distance an antelope, standing on aneminence in the plain, in bold relief against the sky; and Shinau'avknew it was the wonderful antelope with many eyes which Stone Shirt keptfor his watchman; and he proposed to go and kill it, but Togo'avdemurred and said:

"It were better that I should go, for he will see you and run away. "

But the So'kus Wai'unats told Shinau'av to go; and he started in adirection away to the left of where the antelope was standing, that hemight make a long detour about some hills and come upon him from theother side. 

Togo'av went a little way from camp and called to the brothers:

"Do you see me!"

They answered they did not. 

"Hunt for me. "

While they were hunting for him, the Rattlesnake said:

"I can see you; you are doing so and so, " telling them what they weredoing; but they could not find him. 

Then the Rattlesnake came forth declaring:

"Now you know that when I so desire I can see others and I cannot beseen. Shinau'av cannot kill that antelope, for he has many eyes, and isthe wonderful watchman of Stone Shirt; but I can kill him, for I can gowhere he is and he cannot see me. "

So the brothers were convinced and permitted him to go; and Togo'av wentand killed the antelope. When Shinau'av saw it fall, he was very angry, for he was extremely proud of his fame as a hunter and anxious to havethe honor of killing this famous antelope, and he ran up with theintention of killing Togo'av; but when he drew near and saw the antelopewas fat and would make a rich feast for the people, his anger wasappeased. 

"What matters it, " said he, "who kills the game, when we can all eatit?"

So all the people were fed in abundance and they proceeded on theirjourney. 

The next day the people again suffered for water, and the magical cupwas empty; but the So'kus Wai'unats, having been told in their dreamwhat to do, transformed themselves into doves and flew away to a lake, on the margin of which was the home of Stone Shirt. 

Coming near to the shore, they saw two maidens bathing in the water; andthe birds stood and looked, for the maidens were very beautiful. Thenthey flew into some bushes near by, to have a nearer view, and werecaught in a snare which the girls had placed for intrusive birds. 

The beautiful maidens came up and, taking the birds out of the snare, admired them very much, for they had never seen such birds before. Theycarried them to their father, Stone Shirt, who said:

"My daughters, I very much fear these are spies from my enemies, forsuch birds do not live in our land. "

He was about to throw them into the fire, when the maidens besought him, with tears, that he would not destroy their beautiful birds; but heyielded to their entreaties with much misgiving. Then they took thebirds to the shore of the lake and set them free. 

When the birds were at liberty once more they flew around among thebushes until they found the magical cup which they had lost, and takingit up they carried it out into the middle of the lake and settled downupon the water, and the maidens supposed they were drowned. 

The birds, when they had filled their cup, rose again and went back tothe people in the desert, where they arrived just at the right time tosave them with the cup of water, from which each drank; and yet it wasfull until the last was satisfied, and then not a drop remained. 

The brothers reported that they had seen Stone Shirt and his daughters. 

The next day they came near to the home of the enemy, and the brothers, in proper person, went out to reconnoiter. Seeing a womangleaning seeds, they drew near, and knew it was their mother, whom StoneShirt had stolen from Sikor', the Crane. They told her they were hersons, but she denied it and said she had never had but one son; but theboys related to her their history, with the origin of the two from one, and she was convinced. She tried to dissuade them from making war uponStone Shirt, and told them that no arrow could possibly penetrate hisarmor, and that he was a great warrior and had no other delight than inkilling his enemies, and that his daughters also were furnished withmagical bows and arrows, which they could shoot so fast that the arrowswould fill the air like a cloud, and that it was not necessary for themto take aim, for their missiles went where they willed; they _thought_the arrows to the hearts of their enemies; and thus the maidens couldkill the whole of the people before a common arrow could be shot by acommon person. But the boys told her what the spirit had said in thelong dream and that it had promised that Stone Shirt should be killed. They told her to go down to the lake at dawn, so as not to be endangeredby the battle. 

During the night the So'kus Wai'unats transformed themselves into miceand proceeded to the home of Stone Shirt and found the magical bows andarrows that belonged to the maidens, and with their sharp teeth they cutthe sinew on the backs of the bows and nibbled the bow strings, so thatthey were worthless. Togo'av hid himself under a rock near by. 

When dawn came into the sky, Tumpwinai'ro-gwinump, the Stone Shirt man, arose and walked out of his tent, exulting in his strength and security, and sat down upon the rock under which Togo'av was hiding; and he, seeing his opportunity, sank his fangs into the flesh of the hero. StoneShirt sprang high into the air and called to his daughters that theywere betrayed and that the enemy was near; and they seized their magicalbows and their quivers filled with magical arrows and hurried to hisdefense. At the same time, all the nations who were surrounding the camprushed down to battle. But the beautiful maidens, finding their weaponswere destroyed, waved back their enemies, as if they would parley; andstanding for a few moments over the body of their slain father, sang thedeath song and danced the death dance, whirling in giddy circles aboutthe dead hero and wailing with despair, until they sank down andexpired. 

The conquerors buried the maidens by the shores of the lake; butTumpwinai'rogwinump was left to rot and his bones to bleach on thesands, as he had left Sikor'. 

There is this proverb among the Utes: "Do not murmur when you suffer indoing what the spirits have commanded, for a cup of water is provided";and another: "What matters it who kills the game, when we can all eat ofit?"

It is long after midnight when the performance is ended. The storyitself is interesting, though I had heard it many times before; butnever, perhaps, under circumstances more effective. Stretched beneathtall, somber pines; a great camp fire; by the fire, men, old, wrinkled, and ugly; deformed, blear-eyed, wry-faced women; lithe, stately youngmen; pretty but simpering maidens, naked children, all intentlylistening, or laughing and talking by turns, their strange faces anddusky forms lit up with the glare of the pine-knot fire. All thecircumstances conspired to make it a scene strange and weird. One oldman, the sorcerer or medicine man of the tribe, peculiarly impressed me. Now and then he would interrupt the play for the purpose of correctingthe speakers or impressing the moral of the story with a strange dignityand impressiveness that seemed to pass to the very border of theludicrous; yet at no time did it make me smile. 

The story is finished, but there is yet time for an hour or two ofsleep. I take Chuar'ruumpeak to one side for a talk. The three men wholeft us in the canyon last year found their way up the lateral gorge, bywhich they went into the Shi'wits Mountains, lying west of us, wherethey met with the Indians and camped with them one or two nights andwere finally killed. I am anxious to learn the circumstances, and as thepeople of the tribe who committed the deed live but a little way fromthese people and are intimate with them, I ask Chuar'ruumpeak to makeinquiry for me. Then we go to bed. 

_September 17. --_Early this morning the Indians come up to our camp. 

They have concluded to send out a young man after the Shi'vwits. Therunner fixes his moccasins, puts some food in a sack and water in alittle wickerwork jug, straps them on his back, and starts at a goodround pace. 

We have concluded to go down the canyon, hoping to meet the Shi'vwits onour return. Soon we are ready to start, leaving the camp and packanimals in charge of the two Indians who came with us. As we move outour new guide comes up, a blear-eyed, weazen-faced, quiet old man, withhis bow and arrows in one hand and a small cane in the other. TheseIndians all carry canes with a crooked handle, they say to killrattlesnakes and to pull rabbits from their holes. The valley is high upin the mountain and we descend from it by a rocky, precipitous trail, down, down, down for two long, weary hours, leading our ponies andstumbling over the rocks. At last we are at the foot of the mountain, standing on a little knoll, from which we can look into a canyon below. 

Into this we descend, and then we follow it for miles, clambering downand still down. Often we cross beds of lava, that have been poured intothe canyon by lateral channels, and these angular fragments of basaltmake the way very rough for the animals. 

About two o'clock the guide halts us with his wand, and, springing overthe rocks, he is lost in a gulch. In a few minutes he returns, and tellsus there is a little water below in a pocket. It is vile and our poniesrefuse to drink it. We pass on, still descending. A mile or two from thewater basin we come to a precipice more than 1, 000 feet to the bottom. There is a canyon running at a greater depth and at right angles tothis, into which this enters by the precipice; and this second canyon isa lateral one to the greater one, in the bottom of which we are to findthe river. Searching about, we find a way by which we can descend alongthe shelves and steps and piles of broken rocks. 

We start, leading our ponies; a wall upon our left; unknown depths onour right. At places our way is along shelves so narrow or so slopingthat I ache with fear lest a pony should make a misstep and knock a manover the cliffs with him. Now and then we start the loose rocks underour feet, and over the cliffs they go, thundering down, down, the echoesrolling through distant canyons. At last we pass along a level shelf forsome distance, then we turn to the right and zigzag down a steep slopeto the bottom. Now we pass along this lower canyon for two or threemiles, to where it terminates in the Grand Canyon, as the other ended inthis, only the river is 1, 800 feet below us, and it seems at thisdistance to be but a creek. Our withered guide, the human pickle, seatshimself on a rock and seems wonderfully amused at our discomfiture, forwe can see no way by which to descend to the river. After some minuteshe quietly rises and, beckoning us to follow, points out a narrowsloping shelf on the right, and this is to be our way. It leads alongthe cliff for half a mile to a wider bench beyond, which, he says, isbroken down on the other side in a great slide, and there we can get tothe river. So we start out on the shelf; it is so steep we can hardlystand on it, and to fall or slip is to go--don't look to see!

It is soon manifest that we cannot get the ponies along the ledge. Thestorms have washed it down since our guide was here last, years ago. Oneof the ponies has gone so far that we cannot turn him back until wefind a wider place, but at last we get him off. With part of the men, Itake the horses back to the place where there are a few bushes growingand turn them loose; in the meantime the other men are looking for someway by which we can get down to the river. When I return, one, CaptainBishop, has found a way and gone down. We pack bread, coffee, sugar, andtwo or three blankets among us, and set out. It is now nearly dark, andwe cannot find the way by which the captain went, and an hour is spentin fruitless search. Two of the men go away around an amphitheater, morethan a fourth of a mile, and start down a broken chasm that faces us whoare behind. These walls, that are vertical, or nearly so, are often cutby chasms, where the showers run down, and the top of these chasms willbe back a distance from the face of the wall, and the bed of the chasmwill slope down, with here and there a fall. At other places huge rockshave fallen and block the way. Down such a one the two men start. Thereis a curious plant growing out from the crevices of the rock. A dozenstems will start from one root and grow to the length of eight or tenfeet and not throw out a branch or twig, but these stems are thicklycovered with leaves. Now and then the two men come to a bunch of deadstems and make a fire to mark for us their way and progress. 

In the meantime we find such a gulch and start down, but soon come tothe "jumping-off place, " where we can throw a stone and faintly hear itstrike, away below. We fear that we shall have to stay here, clinging tothe rocks until daylight. Our little Indian gathers a few dry stems, ties them into a bundle, lights one end, and holds it up. The others dothe same, and with these torches we find a way out of trouble. Helpingeach other, holding torches for each other, one clinging to another'shand until we can get footing, then supporting the other on hisshoulders, thus we make our passage into the depths of the canyon. 

And now Captain Bishop has kindled a huge fire of driftwood on the bankof the river. This and the fires in the gulch opposite and our ownflaming torches light up little patches that make more manifest theawful darkness below. Still, on we go for an hour or two, and at last wesee Captain Bishop coming up the gulch with a huge torchlight on hisshoulders. He looks like a fiend, waving brands and lighting the firesof hell, and the men in the opposite gulch are imps, lighting delusivefires in inaccessible crevices, over yawning chasms; our own littleIndian is surely the king of wizards, so I think, as I stop for a fewmoments on a rock to rest. At last we meet Captain Bishop, with hisflaming torch, and as he has learned the way he soon pilots us to theside of the great Colorado. We are athirst and hungry, almost tostarvation. Here we lie down on the rocks and drink, just a mouthful orso, as we dare; then we make a cup of coffee, and spreading our blanketson a sand beach the roaring Colorado lulls us to sleep. 

_September 18. _--We are in the Grand Canyon, by the side of theColorado, more than 6, 000 feet below our camp on the mountain side, which is 18 miles away; but the miles of horizontal distance representbut a small part of the day's labor before us. It is the mile ofaltitude we must gain that makes it a Herculean task. We are up early_;_a little bread and coffee, and we look about us. Our conclusion is thatwe can make this a depot of supplies, should it be necessary; that wecan pack our rations to the point where we left our animals last night, and that we can employ Indians to bring them down to the water's edge. 

On a broad shelf we find the ruins of an old stone house, the walls ofwhich are broken down, and we can see where the ancient people who livedhere--a race more highly civilized than the present--had made a gardenand used a great spring that comes out of the rocks for irrigation. Onsome rocks near by we discover some curious etchings. Still searchingabout, we find an obscure trail up the canyon wall, marked here andthere by steps which have been built in the loose rock, elsewhere hewnstairways, and we find a much easier way to go up than that by which wecame down in the darkness last night. Coming to the top of the wall, wecatch our horses and start. Up the canyon our jaded ponies toil and wereach the second cliff; up this we go, by easy stages, leading theanimals. Now we reach the offensive water pocket; our ponies have had nowater for thirty hours, and are eager even for this foul fluid. Wecarefully strain a kettleful for ourselves, then divide what is leftbetween them--two or three gallons for each; but it does not satisfythem, and they rage around, refusing to eat the scanty grass. We boilour kettle of water, and skim it; straining, boiling, and skimming makeit a little better, for it was full of loathsome, wriggling larvae, withhuge black heads. But plenty of coffee takes away the bad smell, and somodifies the taste that most of us can drink, though our little Indianseems to prefer the original mixture. We reach camp about sunset, andare glad to rest. 

_September 19. _--We are tired and sore, and must rest a day with ourIndian neighbors. During the inclement season they live in shelters madeof boughs or the bark of the cedar, which they strip off in long shreds. In this climate, most of the year is dry and warm, and during such timethey do not care for shelter. Clearing a small, circular space ofground, they bank it around with brush and sand, and wallow in it duringthe day and huddle together in a heap at night--men, women, andchildren; buckskin, rags, and sand. They wear very little clothing, notneeding much in this lovely climate. 

Altogether, these Indians are more nearly in their primitive conditionthan any others on the continent with whom I am acquainted. They havenever received anything from the government and are too poor to temptthe trader, and their country is so nearly inaccessible that the whiteman never visits them. The sunny mountain side is covered with: wildfruits, nuts, and native grains, upon which they subsist. The _oose, _the fruit of the yucca, or Spanish bayonet, is rich, and not unlike thepawpaw of the valley of the Ohio. They eat it raw and also roast it inthe ashes. They gather the fruits of a cactus plant, which are rich andluscious, and eat them as grapes or express the juice from them, makingthe dry pulp into cakes and saving them for winter and drinking the wineabout their camp fires until the midnight is merry with their revelries. 

They gather the seeds of many plants, as sunflowers, golden-rod, andgrasses. For this purpose they have large conical baskets, which holdtwo or more bushels. The women carry them on their backs, suspended fromtheir foreheads by broad straps, and with a smaller one in the left handand a willow-woven fan in the right they walk among the grasses andsweep the seed into the smaller basket, which is emptied now and theninto the larger, until it is full of seeds and chaff; then they winnowout the chaff and roast the seeds. They roast these curiously; they putseeds and a quantity of red-hot coals into a willow tray and, by rapidlyand dexterously shaking and tossing them, keep the coals aglow and theseeds and tray from burning. So skilled are the crones in this work theyroll the seeds to one side of the tray as they are roasted and the coalsto the other as if by magic. 

Then they grind the seeds into a fine flour and make it into cakes andmush. It is a merry sight, sometimes, to see the women grinding at themill. For a mill, they use a large flat rock, lying on the ground, andanother small cylindrical one in their hands. They sit prone on theground, hold the large flat rock between the feet and legs, then filltheir laps with seeds, making a hopper to the mill with their duskylegs, and grind by pushing the seeds across the larger rock, where theydrop into a tray. I have seen a group of women grinding together, keeping time to a chant, or gossiping and chatting, while the youngerlassies would jest and chatter and make the pine woods merry with theirlaughter. 

Mothers carry their babes curiously in baskets. They make a wicker boardby plaiting willows and sew a buckskin cloth to either edge, and this isfulled in the middle so as to form a sack closed at the bottom. At thetop they make a wicker shade, like "my grandmother's sunbonnet, " andwrapping the little one in a wild-cat robe, place it in the basket, andthis they carry on their backs, strapped over the forehead, and thelittle brown midgets are ever peering over their mothers' shoulders. Incamp, they stand the basket against the trunk of a tree or hang it to alimb. 

There is little game in the country, yet they get a mountain sheep nowand then or a deer, with their arrows, for they are not yet suppliedwith guns. They get many rabbits, sometimes with arrows, sometimes withnets. They make a net of twine, made of the fibers of a native flax. Sometimes this is made a hundred yards in length, and is placed in ahalf-circular position, with wings of sage brush. Then they have acircle hunt, and drive great numbers of rabbits into the snare, wherethey are shot with arrows. Most of their bows are made of cedar, but thebest are made of the horns of mountain sheep. These are soaked in wateruntil quite soft, cut into long thin strips, and glued together; theyare then quite elastic. During the autumn, grasshoppers are veryabundant, can be gathered by the bushel. At such a time, they dig ahole in the sand, heat stones in a fire near by, put some hot stones inthe bottom of the hole, put on a layer of grasshoppers, then a layer ofhot stones, and continue this, until they put bushels on to roast. Therethey are. 

When cold weather sets in, these insects are numbed and left until cool, when they are taken out, thoroughly dried, and ground into meal. Grasshopper gruel or grasshopper cake is a great treat. 

Their lore consists of a mass of traditions, or mythology. It is verydifficult to induce them to tell it to white men; but the old Spanishpriests, in the days of the conquest of New Mexico, spread among theIndians of this country many Bible stories, which the Indians areusually willing to tell. It is not always easy to recognize them; theIndian mind is a strange receptacle for such stories and they are apt tosprout new limbs. Maybe much of their added quaint-ness is due to theway in which they were told by the "fathers. " But in a confidential way, while alone, or when admitted to their camp fire on a winter night, onemay hear the stories of their mythology. I believe that the greatestmark of friendship or confidence that an Indian can give is to tell youhis religion. After one has so talked with me I should ever trust him;and I feel on very good terms with these Indians since our experience ofthe other night. 

A knowledge of the watering places and of the trails and passes isconsidered of great importance and is necessary to give standing to achief. 

This evening, the Shi'vwits, for whom we have sent, come in, and aftersupper we hold a long council. A blazing fire is built, and around thiswe sit--the Indians living here, the Shi'vwits, Jacob Hamblin, andmyself. 

This man, Hamblin, speaks their language well and has a great influenceover all the Indians in the region round about. He is a silent, reservedman, and when he speaks it is in a slow, quiet way that inspires greatawe. His talk is so low that they must listen attentively to hear, andthey sit around him in deathlike silence. When he finishes a measuredsentence the chief repeats it and they all give a solemn grunt. But, first, I fill my pipe, light it, and take a few whiffs, then pass it toHamblin; he smokes, and gives it to the man next, and so it goes around. When it has passed the chief, he takes out his own pipe, fills andlights it, and passes it around after mine. I can smoke my own pipe inturn, but when the Indian pipe comes around, I am nonplused. It has alarge stem, which has at some time been broken, and now there is abuckskin rag wound around it and tied with sinew, so that the end of thestem is a huge mouthful, exceedingly repulsive. To gain time, I refillit, then engage in very earnest conversation, and, all unawares, I passit to my neighbor unlighted. 

I tell the Indians that I wish to spend some months in their countryduring the coming year and that I would like them to treat me as afriend. I do not wish to trade; do not want their lands. Heretofore Ihave found it very difficult to make the natives understand my object, but the gravity of the Mormon missionary helps me much. I tell them thatall the great and good white men are anxious to know very many things, that they spend much time in learning, and that the greatest man is hewho knows the most; that the white men want to know all about themountains and the valleys, the rivers and the canyons, the beasts andbirds and snakes. Then I tell them of many Indian tribes, and where theylive; of the European nations; of the Chinese, of Africans, and all thestrange things about them that come to my mind. I tell them of theocean, of great rivers and high mountains, of strange beasts and birds. At last I tell them I wish to learn about their canyons and mountains, and about themselves, to tell other men at home; and that I want to takepictures of everything and show them to my friends. All this occupiesmuch time, and the matter and manner make a deep impression. 

Then their chief replies: "Your talk is good, and we believe what yousay. We believe in Jacob, and look upon you as a father. When you arehungry, you may have our game. You may gather our sweet fruits. We willgive you food when you come to our land. We will show you the springsand you may drink; the water is good. We will be friends and when youcome we will be glad. We will tell the Indians who live on the otherside of the great river that we have seen Ka'purats, and that he is theIndians' friend. We will tell them he is Jacob's friend. We are verypoor. Look at our women and children; they are naked. We have no horses;we climb the rocks and our feet are sore. We live among rocks and theyyield little food and many thorns. When the cold moons come, ourchildren are hungry. We have not much to give; you must not think usmean. You are wise; we have heard you tell strange things. We areignorant. Last year we killed three white men. Bad men said they wereour enemies. They told great lies. We thought them true. Wo were mad;it made us big fools. We are very sorry. Do not think of them; it isdone; let us be friends. We are ignorant--like little children inunderstanding compared with you. When we do wrong, do not you get madand be like children too. 

"When white men kill our people, we kill them. Then they kill more ofus. It is not good. We hear that the white men are a great number. Whenthey stop killing us, there will be no Indian left to bury the dead. Welove our country; we know not other lands. We hear that other lands arebetter; we do not know. The pines sing and we are glad. Our childrenplay in the warm sand; we hear them sing and are glad. The seeds ripenand we have to eat and we are glad. We do not want their good lands; wewant our rocks and the great mountains where our fathers lived. We arevery poor; we are very ignorant; but we are very honest. You have horsesand many things. You are very wise; you have a good heart. We will befriends. Nothing more have I to say. "

Ka'purats is the name by which I am known among the Utes and Shoshones, meaning "arm off. " There was much more repetition than I have given, andmuch emphasis. After this a few presents were given, we shook hands, andthe council broke up. 

Mr. Hamblin fell into conversation with one of the men and held himuntil the others had left, and then learned more of the particulars ofthe death of the three men. They came upon the Indian village almoststarved and exhausted with fatigue. They were supplied with food and puton their way to the settlements. Shortly after they had left, an Indianfrom the east side of the Colorado arrived at their village and toldthem about a number of miners having killed a squaw in drunken brawl, and no doubt these were the men; no person had ever come down thecanyon; that was impossible; they were trying to hide their guilt. Inthis way he worked them into a great rage. They followed, surrounded themen in ambush, and filled them full of arrows. 

That night I slept in peace, although these murderers of my men, andtheir friends, the Uinkarets, were sleeping not 500 yards away. While wewere gone to the canyon, the pack train and supplies, enough to make anIndian rich beyond his wildest dreams, were all left in their charge, and were all safe; not even a lump of sugar was pilfered by thechildren. 

_September 20. _--For several days we have been discussing the relativemerits of several names for these mountains. The Indians call themUinkarets, the region of pines, and we adopt the name. The greatmountain we call Mount Trumbull, in honor of the senator. To-day thetrain starts back to the canyon water pocket, while Captain Bishop andI climb Mount Trumbull. On our way we pass the point that was the lastopening to the volcano. 

It seems but a few years since the last flood of fire swept the valley. Between two rough, conical hills it poured, and ran down the valley tothe foot of a mountain standing almost at the lower end, then parted, and ran on either side of the mountain. This last overflow is veryplainly marked; there is soil, with trees and grass, to the very edgeof it, on a more ancient bed. The flood was, everywhere on its border, from 10 to 20 feet in height, terminating abruptly and looking like awall from below. On cooling, it shattered into fragments, but these arestill in place and the outlines of streams and waves can be seen. Solittle time has elapsed since it ran down that the elements have notweathered a soil, and there is scarcely any vegetation on it, but hereand there a lichen is found. And yet, so long ago was it poured from thedepths, that where ashes and cinders have collected in a few places, some huge cedars have grown. Near the crater the frozen waves of blackbasalt are rent with deep fissures, transverse to the direction, of theflow. Then we ride through a cedar forest up a long ascent, until wecome to cliffs of columnar basalt. Here we tie our horses and preparefor a climb among the columns. Through crevices we work, till at last weare on the mountain, a thousand acres of pine laud spread out before us, gently rising to the other edge. There are two peaks on the mountain. Wewalk two miles to the foot of the one looking to be the highest, then along, hard climb to its summit. What a view is before us! A vision ofglory! Peaks of lava all around below us. The Vermilion Cliffs to thenorth, with their splendor of colors; the Pine Valley Mountains to thenorthwest, clothed in mellow, perspective haze; unnamed mountains to thesouthwest, towering over canyons bottomless to my peering gaze, likechasms to nadir hell; and away beyond, the San Francisco Mountains, lifting their black heads into the heavens. We find our way down themountain, reaching the trail made by the pack train just at dusk, andfollow it through the dark until we see the camp fire--a welcome sight. 

Two days more, and we are at Pipe Spring; one day, and we are at Kanab. Eight miles above the town is a canyon, on either side of which is agroup of lakes. Four of these are in caves where the sun never shines. By the side of one of these I sit, at my feet the crystal waters, ofwhich I may drink at will. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

OVER THE RIVER. 

It is our intention to explore a route from Kanab to the Colorado Riverat the mouth of the Paria, and, if successful in this undertaking, tocross the river and proceed to Tusayan, and ultimately to Santa Fe, NewMexico. We propose to build a flatboat for the purpose of ferrying overthe river, and have had the lumber necessary for that purpose hauledfrom St. George to Kanab. From here to the mouth of the Paria it must bepacked on the backs of mules; Captain Bishop and Mr. Graves are to takecharge of this work, while with Mr. Hamblin I explore the KaibabPlateau. 

_September 24_--To-day we are ready for the start. The mules arepacked and away goes our train of lumber, rations, and camping equipage. The Indian trail is at the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs. Pushing on tothe east with Mr. Hamblin for a couple of hours in the early morning, wereach the mouth of a dry canyon, which comes down through the cliffs. Instead of a narrow canyon we find an open valley from one fourth to onehalf a mile in width. On rare occasions a stream flows down this valley, but now sand dunes stretch across it. On either side there is a wall ofvertical rock of orange sandstone, and here and there at the foot of thewall are found springs that afford sweet water. 

We push our way far up the valley to the foot of the Gray Cliffs, and bya long detour find our way to the summit. Here again we find thatwonderful scenery of naked white rocks carved into great round bossesand domes. Looking off to the north we can see vermilion and pinkcliffs, crowned with forests, while below us to the south stretch thedunes and red-lands of the Vermilion Cliff region, and far away we cansee the opposite wall of the Grand Canyon. In the middle of theafternoon we descend into the canyon valley and hurriedly ride, down tothe mouth of the canyon, then follow the trail of the pack train, forwe are to camp with the party to-night. We find it at the Navajo Well. As we approach in the darkness the camp fire is a cheerful sight. TheNavajo Well is a pool in the sand, the sands themselves lying in abasin, with naked, smooth rocks all about on which the rains are caughtand by which the sand in the basin is filled with water, and by digginginto the sand this sweet water is found. 

_September 25. _--At sunrise Mr. Hamblin and I part from the train oncemore, taking with us Chuar, a chief of the Kaibabits, for a trip to thesouth, for one more view of the Grand Canyon from the summit of theKaibab Plateau. All day long our way is over red hills, with a bold lineof cliffs on our left. A little after noon we reach a great spring, andhere we are to camp for the night, for the region beyond us is unknownand we wish to enter it with a good day before us. The Indian goes outto hunt a rabbit for supper, and Hamblin and I climb the cliffs. From anelevation of 1, 800 feet above the spring we watch the sun go down andsee the sheen on the Vermilion Cliffs and red-lands slowly fade into thegloaming; then we descend to supper. 

_September 26. --_Early in the morning we pass up a beautiful valley tothe south and turn westward onto a great promontory, from the summit ofwhich the Grand Canyon is in view. Its deep gorge can be seen to thewestward for 50 or 60 miles, and to the southeastward we look off intothe stupendous chasm, with its marvelous forms and colors. 

Twenty-one years later I read over the notes of that day's experienceand the picture of the Grand Canyon from this point is once more beforeme. I did not know when writing the notes that this was the grandestview that can be obtained of the region from Fremont's Peak to the Gulfof California, but I did realize that the scene before me was awful, sublime, and glorious--awful in profound depths, sublime in massive andstrange forms, and glorious in colors. Years later I visited the samespot with my friend Thomas Moran. From this world of wonder he selecteda section which was the most interesting to him and painted it. Thatpainting, known as "The Chasm of the Colorado, " is in a hall in theSenate wing of the Capitol of the United States. If any one will lookupon that picture, and then realize that it was but a small part of thelandscape before us on this memorable 26th day of September, he willunderstand why I suppress my notes descriptive of the scene. Thelandscape is too vast, too complex, too grand for verbal description. 

We sleep another night by the spring on the summit of the Kaibab, andnext day we go around to Point Sublime and then push on to the veryverge of the Kaibab, where we can overlook the canyon at the mouth ofthe Little Colorado. The day is a repetition of the glorious day before, and at night we sleep again at the same spring. In the morning we turnto the northeast and descend from Kaibab to the back of Marble Canyonand cross it at the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs, and find our packerscamped at Jacob's Pool, where a spring bursts from the cliff at thesummit of a great hill of talus. In the camp we find a score or more ofIndians, who have joined us here by previous appointment, as we needtheir services in crossing the river. 

On the last day of September we follow the Vermilion Cliffs around tothe mouth of the Paria. Here the cliffs present a wall of about 2, 000feet in height, --above, orange and vermilion, but below, chocolate, purple, and gray in alternating bands of rainbow brightness. The cliffsare cut with deep side canyons, and the rainbow hills below aredestitute of vegetation. At night we camp on the bank of the ColoradoRiver, on the same spot where our boat-party had camped the year before. Leaving the party in charge of Mr. Graves and Mr. Bishop, while they arebuilding a ferryboat, I take some Indians to explore the canyon of theParia. We find steep walls on either side, but a rather broad, flatplain below, through which the muddy river winds its way overquicksands. This stream we have to cross from time to time, and we findthe quicksands treacherous and our horses floundering in the tremblingmasses. 

These broad canyons, or canyon valleys, are carved by the streams inobedience to an interesting law of corrasion. Where the declivity of thestream is great the river corrades, or cuts its bottom deeper and stilldeeper, ever forming narrow clefts, but when the stream has cut itschannel down until the declivity is greatly reduced, it can no longercarry the load of sand with which it is fed, but drops a part of it onthe way. Wherever it drops it in this manner a sand bank is formed. Nowthe effect of this sand bar is to turn the course of the river againstthe wall or bank, and as it unloads in one place it cuts in anotherbelow and loads itself again; so it unloads itself and forms bars, andloads itself with more material to form bars, and the process ofvertical cutting is transformed into a process of lateral cutting. Therate of cutting is greatly increased thereby, but the wear is on thesides and not on the bottom. So long as the declivity of the stream isgreat, the greater the load of sand carried the greater the rate ofvertical cutting; but when the declivity is reduced, so that part of theload is thrown down, vertical cutting is changed to lateral and the rateof corrosion multiplied thereby. Now this broad valley canyon, or "boxcanyon, " as such channels are usually called in the country, has beenformed by the stream itself, cutting its channel at first vertically andafterwards laterally, and so a great flood-plain is formed. 

For a day we ride up the Paria, and next day return. The party in camphave made good progress. The boat is finished and a part of the campfreight has been transported across the river. The next day theremainder is ferried over and the animals are led across, swimmingbehind the ferryboat in pairs. Here a bold bluff more than 1, 200 feet inheight has to be climbed, and the day is spent in getting to its summit. We make a dry camp, that is, without water, except that which has beencarried in canteens by the Indians. 

_October 4-_--All day long we pass by the foot of the Echo Cliffs, whichare in fact the continuation of the Vermilion Cliffs. It is still alandscape of rocks, with cliffs and pinnacles and towers and buttes onthe left, and deep chasms running down into the Marble Canyon on theright. At night we camp at a water pocket, a pool in a great limestonerock. We still go south for another half day to a cedar ridge; here weturn westward, climbing the cliffs, which we find to be not the edge ofan escarpment with a plateau above, but a long narrow ridge whichdescends on the eastern side to a level only 500 or 600 feet above thetrail left below. On the eastern side of the cliff a great homogeneoussandstone stretches, declining rapidly, and on its sides are carvedinnumerable basins, which are now filled with pure water, and we callthis the Thousand Wells. We have a long afternoon's ride over sanddunes, slowly toiling from mile to mile. We can see a ledge of rocks inthe distance, and the Indian with us assures us that we shall find waterthere. At night we come to the cliff, and under it, in a great cave, wefind a lakelet. Sweeter, cooler water never blessed the desert. 

While at Jacob's Pool, several days before, I sent a runner forward intothis region with instructions to hunt us up some of the natives andbring them to this pool. When we arrive we are disappointed in notfinding them on hand, but a little later half a dozen men come in withthe Indian messenger. They are surly fellows and seem to be displeasedat our coming. Before midnight they leave. Under the circumstances I donot feel that it is safe to linger long at this spot; so I do not liedown to rest, but walk the camp among the guards and see that everythingis in readiness to move. About two o'clock I set a couple of men toprepare a hasty lunch, call up all hands, and we saddle, pack, eat ourlunch, and start off to the southwest to reach the Moenkopi, where thereis a little rancheria of Indians, a farming settlement belonging to theOraibis, so we are told. We set out at a rapid rate, and when daylightcomes we are in sight of the canyon of the Moenkopi, into which we soondescend; but the rancheria has been abandoned. Up the Moenkopi we passseveral miles, in a beautiful canyon valley, until we find a pool in anook of a cliff, where we feel that we can defend ourselves withcertainty, and here we camp for the night. The next day we go on toOraibi, one of the pueblos of the Province of Tusayan. 

At Tusayan we stop for two weeks and visit the seven pueblos on thecliffs. Oraibi is first reached, then Shumopavi, Shupaulovi, andMashongnavi, and finally Walpi, Sichumovi, and Hano. 

In a street of Oraibi our little party is gathered. Soon a council iscalled by the _cacique, _ or chief, and we are assigned to a suite of sixor eight rooms for our quarters. We purchase corn of some of the people, and after feeding our animals they are intrusted to two Indian boys, who, under the direction of the _cacique, _ take them to a distant mesato herd. This is my first view of an inhabited pueblo, though I haveseen many ruins from time to time. At first I am a little disappointedin the people. They seem scarcely superior to the Shoshones and Utes, tribes with whom I am so well acquainted. Their dress is lesspicturesque, and the men have an ugly fashion of banging their hair infront so that it comes down to their eyes and conceals their foreheads. But the women are more neatly dressed and arrange their hair inpicturesque coils. 

Oraibi is a town of several hundred inhabitants. It stands on a mesa orlittle plateau 200 or 300 feet above the surrounding plain. The mesaitself has a rather diversified surface. The streets of the town arequite irregular, and in a general way run from north to south. Thehouses are constructed to face the east. They are of stone laid inmortar, and are usually three or four stories high. The second storystands back upon the first, leaving a terrace over one tier of rooms. The third is set back of the second, and the fourth back of the third;so that their houses are terraced to face the east. These terraces onthe top are all flat, and the people usually ascend to the first terraceby a ladder and then by another into the lower rooms. In like manner, ladders or rude stairways are used to reach the upper stories. Theclimate is very warm and the people live on the tops of their houses. Itseems strange to see little naked children climbing the ladders andrunning over the house tops like herds of monkeys. After we have lookedabout the town and been gazed upon by the wondering eyes of the men, women, and children, we are at last called to supper. In a large centralroom we gather and the food is placed before us. A stew of goat's fleshis served in earthen bowls, and each one of us is furnished with alittle earthen ladle. The bread is a great novelty to me. It is made ofcorn meal in sheets as thin and large as foolscap paper. In the cornerof the house is a little oven, the top of which is a great flat stone, and the good housewife bakes her bread in this manner: The corn meal ismixed to the consistency of a rather thick gruel, and the woman dips herhand into the mixture and plasters the hot stone with a thin coating ofthe meal paste. In a minute or two it forms into a thin paper-like cake, and she takes it up by the edge, folds it once, and places it on abasket tray; then another and another sheet of paper-bread is made inlike manner and piled on the tray. I notice that the paste stands in anumber of different bowls and that she takes from, one bowl and thenanother in order, and I soon see the effect of this. The corn beforebeing ground is assorted by colors, white, yellow, red, blue, and black, and the sheets of bread, when made, are of the same variety of colors, white, yellow, red, blue, and black. This bread, held on very beautifultrays, is itself a work of art. They call it _piki. _ After we havepartaken of goat stew and bread a course of dumplings, melons, andpeaches is served, and this finishes the feast. What seem to bedumplings are composed of a kind of hash of bread and meat, tied up inlittle balls with cornhusks and served boiling hot. They are eaten withmuch gusto by the party and highly praised. Some days after we learnedhow they are made; they are prepared of goat's flesh, bread, andturnips, and kneaded by mastication. As we prefer to masticate our ownfood, this dainty dish is never again a favorite. 

In the evening the people celebrate our advent by a dance, such itseemed to us, but probably it was one of their regular ceremonies. 

After dark a pretty little fire is built in the chimney corner and Ispend the evening in rehearsing to a group of the leading men the storyof my travels in the canyon country. Of our journey down the canyon inboats they have already heard, and they listen with great interest towhat I say. My talk with them is in the Mexican patois, which several ofthem understand, and all that I say is interpreted. 

The next morning we are up at daybreak. Soon we hear loud shouts comingfrom the top of the house. The _cacique_ is calling his people. Then allthe people, men, women, and children, come out on the tops of theirhouses. Just before sunrise they sprinkle water and meal from beautifulgrails; then they all stand with bare heads to watch the rising of thesun. When his full orb is seen, once more they sprinkle the sacred waterand the sacred meal over the tops of the houses. Then the _cacique_ in aloud voice directs the labor of the day. So his talk is explained to us. Some must gather corn, others must go for wood, water must be broughtfrom the distant wells, and the animals of the strangers must be caredfor. Now the house tops present a lively scene. Bowls of water arebrought; from them the men fill their mouths and with dexterity blowwater over their hands in spray and wash their faces and lave their longshining heads of hair; and the women dress one another's locks. Withbowls of water they make suds of the yucca plant, and wash and comb anddeftly roll their hair, the elder women in great coils at the back ofthe head, the younger women in flat coils on their cheeks. And so thedays are passed and the weeks go by, and we study the language of thepeople and record many hundreds of their words and observe their habitsand customs and gain some knowledge of their mythology, but above all dowe become interested in their religious ceremonies. 

One afternoon they take me from Oraibi to Shupaulovi to witness a greatreligious ceremony. It is the invocation to the gods for rain. We arriveabout sundown, and are taken into a large subterranean chamber, intowhich we descend by a ladder. Soon about a dozen Shamans are gatheredwith us, and the ceremony continues from sunset to sunrise. It is aseries of formal invocations, incantations, and sacrifices, especiallyof holy meal and holy water. The leader of the Shamans is a great burlybald-headed Indian, which is a remarkable sight, for I have never seenone before. Whatever he says or does is repeated by three others inturn. The paraphernalia of their worship is very interesting. At one endof the chamber is a series of tablets of wood covered with quaintpictures of animals and of corn, and overhead are conventional blackclouds from which yellow lightnings are projected, while drops of rainfall on the corn below. Wooden birds, set on pedestals and decoratedwith plumes, are arranged in various ways. Ears of corn, vases of holywater, and trays of meal make up a part of the paraphernalia of worship. I try to record some of the prayers, but am not very successful, as itis difficult to hold my interpreter to the work. But one of theseprayers is something like this:

"Muingwa pash lolomai, Master of the Clouds, we eat no stolen bread; ouryoung men ride not the stolen ass; our food is not stolen from thegardens of our neighbors. Muingwa pash lolomai, we beseech of thee todip your great sprinkler, made of the feathers of the birds of theheavens, into the lakes of the skies and sprinkle us with sweet rains, that the ground may be prepared in the winter for the corn that grows inthe summer. "

At one time in the night three women were brought into the _kiva. _ Thesewomen had a cincture of cotton about their loins, but were otherwisenude. One was very old, another of middle age, and the third quiteyoung, perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old. As they stood in a cornerof the _kiva_ their faces and bodies were painted by the bald-headedpriest. For this purpose he filled his mouth with water and pigment anddexterously blew a fine spray over the faces, necks, shoulders, andbreasts of the women. Then with his finger as a brush he decorated themover this groundwork, which was of yellow, with many figures in variouscolors. From that time to daylight the three women remained in the_kiva_ and took part in the ceremony as choristers and dancingperformers. 

At sunrise we are filed out of the _kiva, _ and a curious sight ispresented to our view. Shupaulovi is built in terraces about a centralcourt, or plaza, and in the plaza about fifty men are drawn up in a linefacing us. These men are naked except that they wear masks, strange andgrotesque, and great flaring headdresses in many colors. 

Our party from the _kiva_ stand before this line of men, and thebald-headed priest harangues them in words I cannot understand. Thenacross the other end of the plaza a line of women is formed, facing theline of men, and at a signal from the old Shaman the drums and thewhistles on the terraces, with a great chorus of singers, set up atumultuous noise, and with slow shuffling steps the line of men and theline of women move toward each other in a curious waving dance. When thelines approach so as to be not more than 10 or 12 feet apart, our partystill being between them, they all change so as to dance backward totheir original positions. This is repeated until the dancers have passedover the plaza four times. Then there is a wild confusion of dances, theorder of which I cannot understand, --if indeed there is any system, except that the men and women dance apart. Soon this is over, and thewomen all file down the ladder into the _kiva_ and the men strip offtheir masks and arrange themselves about the plaza, every one accordingto his own wish, but as if in sharp expectancy; then the women return upthe ladder from the _kiva_ and climb to the tops of the houses and standon the brink of the nearer terrace. Now the music commences once more, and the old woman who was painted in the _kiva_ during the night throwssomething, I cannot tell what, into the midst of the plaza. With a shoutand a scream, every man jumps for it; one seizes it, another takes itaway from him, and then another secures it; and with shouts and screamsthey wrestle and tussle for the charm which the old woman has thrown tothem. After a while some one gets permanent possession of the charm andthe music ceases. Then another is thrown into the midst. So thesecontests continue at intervals until high noon. 

In the evening we return to Oraibi. And now for two days we employ ourtime in making a collection of the arts of the people of this town. First, we display to them our stock of goods, composed of knives, needles, awls, scissors, paints, dyestuffs, leather, and various fabricsin gay colors. Then we go around among the people and select thearticles of pottery, stone implements, instruments and utensils made ofbone, horn, shell, articles of clothing and ornament, baskets, trays, and many other things, and tell the people to bring them the next day toour rooms. A little after sunrise they come in, and we have a busy dayof barter. When articles are brought in such as I want, I lay themaside. Then if possible I discover the fancy of the one who bringsthem, and I put by the articles the goods which I am willing to give inexchange for them. Having thus made an offer, I never deviate from it, but leave it to the option of the other party to take either his ownarticles or mine lying beside them. The barter is carried on with ahearty good will; the people jest and laugh with us and with oneanother; all are pleased, and there is nothing to mar this day ofpleasure. In the afternoon and evening I make an inventory of ourpurchases, and the next day is spent in packing them for shipment. Someof the things are heavy, and I engage some Indians to help transport thecargo to Fort Wingate, where we can get army transportation. 

_October 24-. --_To-day we leave Oraibi. We are ready to start in theearly morning. The whole town comes to bid us good-by. Before we startthey perform some strange ceremony which I cannot understand, but, withinvocations to some deity, they sprinkle us, our animals, and our goodswith water and with meal. Then there is a time of handshaking andhugging. "Good-by; good-by; good-by!" At last we start. Our way is toWalpi, by a heavy trail over a sand plain, among the dunes. We arrive alittle after noon. Walpi, Sichumovi, and Hano are three little towns onone butte, with but little space between them; the stretch from town totown is hardly large enough for a game of ball. The top of the butte isof naked rock, and it rises from 300 to 400 feet above the sand plainsbelow by a precipitous cliff on every side. To reach it from below, itmust be climbed by niches and stairways in the rock. It is a good sitefor defense. At the foot of the cliff and on some terraces the peoplehave built corrals of stone for their asses. All the water used inthese three towns is derived from a well nearly a mile away--a deep pitsunk in the sand, over the site of a dune-buried brook. 

When we arrive the men of Walpi carry our goods, camp equipage, andsaddles up the stairway and deposit them in a little court. Then theyassign us eight or ten rooms for our quarters. Our animals are once moreconsigned to the care of Indian herders, and after they are fed they aresent away to a distance of some miles. There is no tree or shrub growingnear the Walpi mesa. It is miles away to where the stunted cedars arefound, and the people bring curious little loads of wood on the backs oftheir donkeys, it being a day's work to bring such a cargo. The peoplehave anticipated our coming, and the wood for our use is piled in thechimney corners. After supper the hours till midnight are passed inrather formal talk. 

Walpi seems to be a town of about 150 inhabitants, Sichumovi of lessthan 100, and Hano of not more than 75. Hano, or "Tewa" as it issometimes called, has been built lately; that is, it cannot be more than100 or 200 years old. The other towns are very old; their foundationdates back many centuries--so we gather from this talk. The people ofHano also speak a radically distinct language, belonging to anotherstock of tribes. They formerly lived on the Rio Grande, but during somewar they were driven away and were permitted to build their home here. 

Two days are spent in trading with the people, and we pride ourselves onhaving made a good ethnologic collection. We are especially interestedin seeing the men and women spin and weave. In their courtyards theyhave deep chambers excavated in the rocks. These chambers, which arecalled _kivas, _ are entered by descending ladders. They are about 18 by24 feet in size. The _kiva_ is the place of worship, where all theirceremonies are performed, where their cult societies meet to pray forrain and to prepare medicines and charms against fancied and realailments and to protect themselves by sorcery from the dangers ofwitchcraft. The _kivas_ are also places for general rendezvous, and atnight the men and women bring their work and chat and laugh, and intheir rude way make the time merry. Many of the tribes of North Americahave their cult societies, or "medicine orders, " as they are sometimescalled, but this institution has been nowhere developed more thoroughlythan among the pueblo Indians of this region. I am informed that thereare a great number in Tusayan, that a part of their ceremonies aresecret and another part public, and that the times of ceremony are alsotimes for feasting and athletic sports. 

Here at Walpi the great snake dance is performed. For several daysbefore this festival is held the people with great diligence gathersnakes from the rocks and sands of the region round about and bring themto the _kiva_ of one of their clans in great numbers, by scores andhundreds. Most of these snakes are quite harmless, but rattlesnakesabound, and they are also caught, for they play the most important rolein the great snake dance. The medicine men, or priest doctors, are verydeft in the management of rattlesnakes. When they bring them to the_kiva_ they herd all the snakes in a great mass of writhing, hissing, rattling serpents. For this purpose they have little wands, to the endof each one of which a bunch of feathers is affixed. If a snake attemptsto leave its allotted place in the _kiva_ the medicine man brushes it ortickles it with the feather-armed wand, and the snake turns again tocommingle with its fellows. After many strange and rather wearisomeceremonies, with dancing and invocations and ululations, the men of theorder prepare for the great performance with the snakes. Clothed only inloincloth, each one seizes a snake, and a rattlesnake is preferred ifthere are enough of them for all. It is managed in this way: The snakeis teased with the feather wand and his attention occupied by one man, while another, standing near, at a favorable moment seizes the snakejust, back of the head. Then he puts the snake in his mouth, holding itacross, so that the head protrudes on one side and the body on theother, which coils about his hand and arm. A few inches of the head andneck are free, and with this free portion the snake struggles, squirmingin the air; but the attention of the snake is constantly occupied by theattendant who carries the wand. Then the men of the priest ordercarrying the snakes in their mouths arrange themselves in a line in thecourt and move in a procession several times about the court, and thenengage in a dance. After the ceremony all of the snakes are carried tothe plain and given their freedom. 

This snake dance was not witnessed at the time of the first visit, butan account of it was then obtained, such as given above. It has sincebeen witnessed by myself and by others, and carefully prepared accountsof the ceremonies have been published by different persons. 

At last our work at Walpi is done, on October 27, and we arrange toleave on the morrow. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

TO ZUNI. 

_October 28_. --To-day we leave the Province of Tusayan for a journeythrough the Navajo country. There is quite an addition to the party now, for we have a number of Indians employed as freighters. Their asses areloaded with heavy packs of the collections we have made in the varioustowns of Tusayan. After a while we enter a beautiful canyon coming downfrom the east, and by noon reach a spring, where we halt forrefreshment. The poor little donkeys are thoroughly wearied, but our ownanimals have had a long rest and have been well fed and are all freshand active. On the rocks of this canyon picture-writings are etched, andI try to get some account of them from the Indians, but fail. 

After lunch we start once more. It is a halcyon day, and with acompanion I leave the train and push on for a view of the country. Awaywe gallop, my Indian companion and I, over the country toward a greatplateau which we can see in the distance. The Salahkai is covered with abeautiful forest. We have an exhilarating ride. When the way becomesstony and rough we must walk our horses. My Indian, who is well mountedon a beautiful bay, is a famous rider. About his brow a kerchief istied, and his long hair rests on his back. He has keen black eyes and abeaked nose; about his neck he wears several dozen strings of beads, made of nacre shining shells, and little tablets of turkis areperforated and strung on sinew cord; in his ears he has silver rings, and his wrists are covered with silver bracelets. His leggings are blackvelvet, the material for which he has bought from some trader; hismoccasins are tan-colored and decorated with silver ornaments, and thetrappings of his horse are decorated in like manner. He carries hisrifle with as much ease as if it were a cane, and rides with wonderfuldexterity. We get on with jargon and sign language pretty well. Atnight, after a long ride, I descend to the foot of the mesa, and near alittle lake I find the camp. The donkey train has not arrived, but soonone after another the Indians come in with their packs, and with whitemen, Oraibi Indians, Walpi Indians, and Navajos, a good party isassembled. 

_October 29. --_We have a long ride before us to-day, for we must reachold Fort Defiance. I stay with the train in order to keep everythingmoving, for we expect to travel late in the night. On the way no wateris found, but in mid-afternoon the trail leads to the brink of a canyon, and the Indians tell me there is water below; so the animals areunpacked and taken down the cliff in a winding way among the rocks, where they are supplied with water. Again we start; night comes on andwe are still in the forest; the trail is good, yet we make slowprogress, for some of the animals are weary and we have to wait fromtime to time for the stragglers. About ten o'clock we descend from theplateau to the canyon beneath and are at old Port Defiance, and theofficers at the agency give us a hearty greeting. 

We spend the 30th of October at the agency and see thousands of Indians, for they are gathered to receive rations and annuities. It is a wildspectacle; groups of Indians are gambling, there are several horseraces, and everywhere there is feasting. At night the revelry isincreased; great fires are lighted, and groups of Indians are seenscattered about the plains. 

_November 1. --_After a short day's ride we camp at Rock Spring. Afountain gushes from the foot of the mesa. Then another day's ridethrough a land of beauty. On the left there is a line of cliffs, likethe Vermilion Cliffs of Utah. In the same red sandstones and on the topof the cliff the Kaibab scenery is duplicated. A great tower on thecliff is known as "Navajo Church. " Early in the afternoon we are at FortWingate and in civilization once more. The fort is on a beautiful siteat the foot of the Zuni Plateau. And now our journey with the pack trainis ended, and I bid good-by to my Indian friends. My own pack train isto go back to Utah, while from Fort Wingate I expect to go to Santa Fein an ambulance. But the region about is of interest for its wonderfulgeologic structure and for the many ruins of ancient pueblos found inthe neighborhood. On the 2d of November Captain Johnson, an artilleryofficer, takes me for a ride among the ruins. Many of these ancientstructures are found, but those which are of the most interest are theround towers. Nothing remains of these but the bare walls. They averagefrom 18 to 20 feet in diameter, and are usually two or three storieshigh. Probably they were built as places of worship. 

Above Fort Wingate there is a great plateau; below, there stretches avast desert plain with mesas and buttes. The ruins are at the foot ofthe plateau where the streams come down from the pine-clad heights. 

On the 3d of November with a party of officers I visit Zuni in anambulance. The journey is 40 miles, along the foot of the plateau halfthe way, and then we turn into the desert valley, in the midst of whichruns the Zuni River, sometimes in canyons cut in black lava. Zuni is atown much like those already visited, except that it is a little larger. Nothing can be more repulsive than the appearance of the streets;irregular, crowded, and filthy, in which dogs, asses, and Indians aremingled in confusion. In the distance Toyalone is seen, a great butte onwhich an extensive ruin is found, the more ancient home of these people, though Zuni itself appears to be hundreds of years old. The peoplespeak a language radically different from that of Tusayan, and no othertribe in the United States has a tongue related to it. 

In the midst of the town there is an old Spanish church, partly inruins, but it is still graced with the wooden image of a saint, gaylycolored; and the old tongueless bell remains, for it was sounded with astone hammer held in the hand of the bellman; the marks of his blows aredeeply indented in the metal. Alvar Nunez Caveza de Vaca was the firstwhite man to see Zuni, when he wandered in that long journey fromFlorida around by the headwaters of the Arkansas, through what is nowNew Mexico and Arizona, southward to the City of Mexico. He had with hima Barbary negro, who was killed by the Zuni, and his burial place isstill pointed out. 

Among the Zuni, as among the tribes of Tusayan, the form of governmentwhich prevails throughout the North American tribes is well illustrated. Kinship is the tie by which the members of the tribe are bound togetheras a common body of people. Each tribe is divided into a series ofclans, and a clan is a group of people that reckon kinship through thefamily line. The children therefore belong to the clan of the mother. Marriage is always without the clan; the husband and father must belongto a different clan from the mother and children, and the childrenbelong to their mother and are governed by her brothers, or by hermother's brothers if they be still living. The husband is but the guestof the wife and the clan, and has no other authority in the family thanthat acquired by personal character. If he is an able and wise man hisadvice may be taken, but each clan is very jealous of its rights, andthe members do not submit to dictation from the guest husband. The womanis not the ruler of the clan; the ruler is the patriarch or elder man, or if he is not a man of ability a younger and more able man is chosen, who by legal fiction is recognized as the elder. Over the officers ofthe clan are the officers of the tribe, --a chief with assistant chiefs. The organization by tribal governors varies from tribe to tribe. Sometimes the chieftaincy is hereditary in a particular clan, but moreoften the chieftaincy is elective. There is very little personalproperty among the tribal people, such property being confined toclothing, ornaments, and a few inconsiderable articles. The ownership ofthe great bulk of the property inheres in the clan, such as theirhouses, their patches of land, the food raised from the soil, and thegame caught in the chase. Sometimes the clans are grouped, two or moreconstituting a phratry, and then there are other officers or chiefsstanding between the clan and tribal authority. Again, tribes aresometimes organized into confederacies, and a grand confederate chiefrecognized. In addition to the chieftaincy of confederate tribes, phratries, and clans, there are councils; but these are not councils oflegislation in the ordinary sense. The councils are clans whosedecisions become a precedent. Tribal law is therefore court-made law, and such customary law grows out of the exigencies which daily lifepresents to the people. The problems as they arise are solved as bestthey may be, and the deliberations of the councils look not to thefuture but only to the present, and are invoked to settle controversy, that peace may be maintained. Of course there is no written constitutionor body of laws, but there are traditional regulations which are wellpreserved in the idioms of oral speech, every rule of procedure or ofjustice being sooner or later coined into an aphorism. 

It has been seen that a clan is a body of kinship in the female line;but the members of the different clans are related to one another byintermarriage. Thus the first tie is by affinity; but, as fathers belongto other clans than the children, the tie is also by consanguinity. Thusthe entire tribe is a body of kindred, and the tribal organization is afabric with warp of streams of blood and woof of marriage ties. Whendifferent tribes unite to form a confederacy for offensive or defensivepurposes, artificial kinship is established. One tribe perhaps isrecognized as the grandfather tribe, another is the father tribe, athird is the elder-brother tribe, a fourth is the younger-brother tribe, etc. In these artificial kinships the members of one tribe address themembers of another tribe by kinship terms established in the treaty. Strangers are sometimes adopted into a clan, and this gives them astatus in the tribe. The adoption is usually accomplished by the womanclaiming the individual as her youngest son or daughter, and suchadopted person has thereupon the status belonging to such a naturalchild; and, though he be an adult, he calls the child born into the clanbefore his advent, though it be but a year old, his elder brother or hiselder sister. Then often young men are advanced in the clan because ofsuperior ability, and this is done by giving them a kinship rank higherthan that belonging to their real age; so that it is not infrequentlyfound that old men address young men as their elder brothers and yieldto their authority. The ties of the tribe are kinship, and authorityinheres in superior age; but in order to adjust these rules so that theabler men may be given control, artificial kinship and artificial ageare established. The civil chiefs direct the daily life of the people intheir labors. 

To the civil organization of the tribe, as thus indicated, there isadded a military organization, and war chiefs are selected. But usuallythese war chiefs are something more than war chiefs, for they alsoconstitute a constabulary to preserve peace and mete out punishment; andyoung men from the various clans are designated as warriors and advancedin military rank according to merit. There is thus a brotherhood ofwarriors, and every man in this brotherhood recognizes all others of thegroup as being elder or younger, and so assumes or yields authority inall matters pertaining to war and the enforcement of criminal law. 

In addition to the secular government there is always a cultgovernment. In every tribe there are Shamans, designated variously bywhite men as "medicine men, " "priests, " "priest doctors, " "theurgists, "etc. In many tribes, perhaps in all, the people are organized intoShamanistic societies; but that these societies are invariablyrecognized is not certain. The Shamans are always found. Among the Zunithere are thirteen of these cult societies. The purpose of Shamanisticinstitutions is to control the conduct of the members of the tribe inrelation to mythic personages, the mysterious beings in which the savagemen believe. In the mind of the savage the world is peopled by a host ofmythic beings, anthropomorphic and zoomorphic. The difference betweenman and brute recognized in civilization, is unrecognized in savagery. All animal life is wonderful and magical co sylvan man. Wisdom, cunning, skill, and prowess are attributed to the real animals to a degree oftengreater than to man; and there are mythic animals as well as mythicmen--monsters dwelling in the mountains and caves or hiding in thewaters, who make themselves invisible as they pass over the land. Notonly are there great monsters, beasts, and reptiles in their mythology, but there are wonderful insects and worms. All life is miraculous andis worshiped as divine. The heavenly bodies, the sun and moon and stars, are mythic animals, and all of the phenomena of nature are attributed tothese zoic beings. For example, the Indian knows nothing of the ambientair. The wind is the breath of some beast, or it is a fanning whichrises from under the wings of a mythic bird. All the phenomena ofnature, the rising and setting of the sun, the waxing and waning of themoon, the shining of the stars, the coming of comets, the flash ofmeteors, the change of seasons, the gathering and vanishing of theclouds, the blowing of the winds, the falling of the rain, the spreadingof the snow, and all other phenomena of physical nature, are held to bethe acts of these wonderful zoic deities. It is deemed of primeimportance that such deities should be induced to act in the interest ofmen. Thus it is that Shamanistic government is held to be of as greatimportance as tribal government, and the Shamans are the peers of thechiefs. With some tribes the cult societies have greater powers than theclan; with other tribes clan government is the more important; butalways there is a conflict of authority, and there is a perpetual warbetween Shamanistic and civil government. 

These Shamans and cult societies have a great variety of functions toperform. All disease and all injuries are attributed to mythic beings orto witchcraft, and on these pathologic ideas the medicine practices ofthe people are based. The medicine men are sorcerers, who work wondersin discovering witchcraft and averting its effects or in discovering thedisease-making animals and overcoming their power. So the Shamans andthe cult societies are the possessors of medicine and ceremoniesdesigned to prevent and cure human ailments. They also have charge ofthe ceremonies necessary to avert disaster and to secure success in allthe affairs of life in peace and war; and they prescribe methods andobservances and furnish charms and amulets, and in every way possiblecontrol human conduct in its relation to the unknown. No small part ofsavage life is devoted to cult ceremonies and observances. The huntercannot penetrate the forest without his charm; the woman cannot plantcorn until a ceremony is performed for securing the blessings of somedivine being. Religious festivals and ceremonies are carried on for daysand weeks. A war must be submitted to the gods, and a sneeze demands aprayer. 

Our arrival at Fort Wingate practically ended the exploration of thegreat valley of the Colorado. This was in 1870. In 1891 we can look backupon the completion of the survey of all of that region, for it has nowbeen carefully mapped. The geology of the country has been studied, andthe tribes which inhabit it have been subjects of careful research. Thiswork has been carried on by a large corps of men, and interestingresults have accrued. 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE GRAND CANYON. 

The Grand Canyon is a gorge 217 miles in length, through which flows agreat river with many storm-born tributaries. It has a winding way, asrivers are wont to have. Its banks are vast structures of adamant, piledup in forms rarely seen in the mountains. 

Down by the river the walls are composed of black gneiss, slates, andschists, all greatly implicated and traversed by dikes of granite. Letthis formation be called the black gneiss. It is usually about 800 feetin thickness. 

Then over the black gneiss are found 800 feet of quartzites, usually invery thin beds of many colors, but exceedingly hard, and ringing underthe hammer like phonolite. These beds are dipping and unconformable withthe rocks above; while they make but 800 feet of the wall or less, theyhave a geological thickness of 12, 000 feet. Set up a row of booksaslant; it is 10 inches from the shelf to the top of the line of books, but there may be 3 feet of the books measured directly through theleaves. So these quartzites are aslant, and though of great geologicthickness, they make but 800 feet of the wall. Your books may havemany-colored bindings and differ greatly in their contents; so thesequartzites vary greatly from place to place along the wall, and in manyplaces they entirely disappear. Let us call this formation thevariegated quartzite. 

Above the quartzites there are 500 feet of sandstones. They are of agreenish hue, but are mottled with spots of brown and black by ironstains. They usually stand in a bold cliff, weathered in alcoves. Letthis formation be called the cliff sandstone. 

Above the cliff sandstone there are 700 feet of bedded sandstones andlimestones, which are massive sometimes and sometimes broken into thinstrata. These rocks are often weathered in deep alcoves. Let thisformation be called the alcove sandstone. 

Over the alcove sandstone there are 1, 600 feet of limestone, in manyplaces a beautiful marble, as in Marble Canyon. As it appears along theGrand Canyon it is always stained a brilliant red, for immediately overit there are thin seams of iron, and the storms have painted theselimestones with pigments from above. Altogether this is the red-wallgroup. It is chiefly limestone. Let it be called the red wall limestone. 

Above the red wall there are 800 feet of gray and bright red sandstone, alternating in beds that look like vast ribbons of landscape. Let it becalled the banded sandstone. 

And over all, at the top of the wall, is the Aubrey limestone, 1, 000feet in thickness. This Aubrey has much gypsum in it, great beds ofalabaster that are pure white in comparison with the great body oflimestone below. In the same limestone there are enormous beds of chert, agates, and carnelians. This limestone is especially remarkable for itspinnacles and towers. Let it be called the tower limestone. 

Now recapitulate: The black gneiss below, 800 feet in thickness; thevariegated quartzite, 800 feet in thickness; the cliff sandstone, 500feet in thickness; the alcove sandstone, 700 feet in thickness; the redwall limestone, 1, 600 feet in thickness; the banded sandstone, 800 feetin thickness; the tower limestone, 1, 000 feet in thickness. 

These are the elements with which the walls are constructed, from blackbuttress below to alabaster tower above. All of these elements weatherin different forms and are painted in different colors, so that the wallpresents a highly complex facade. A wall of homogeneous granite, likethat in the Yosemite, is but a naked wall, whether it be 1, 000 or 5, 000feet high. Hundreds and thousands of feet mean nothing to the eye whenthey stand in a meaningless front. A mountain covered by pure snow10, 000 feet high has but little more effect on the imagination than amountain of snow 1, 000 feet high--it is but more of the same thing; buta facade of seven systems of rock has its sublimity multipliedsevenfold. 

Let the effect of this multiplied facade be more clearly realized. Standby the river side at some point where only the black gneiss is seen. Aprecipitous wall of mountain rises over the river, with crag andpinnacle and cliff in black and brown, and through it runs an angularpattern of red and gray dikes of granite. It is but a mountain cliffwhich may be repeated in many parts of the world, except that it issingularly naked of vegetation, and the few plants that find footing areof strange tropical varieties and are conspicuous because of theirinfrequency. 

Now climb 800 feet and a point of view is reached where the variegatedquartzites are seen. At the summit of the black gneiss a terrace isfound, and, set back of this terrace, walls of elaborate sculptureappear, 800 feet in height. This is due to the fact that though therocks are exceedingly hard they are in very thin layers or strata, andthese strata are not horizontal, but stand sometimes on edge, sometimeshighly inclined, and sometimes gently inclined. In these variegated bedsthere are many deep recesses and sharp salients, everywhere set withcrags, and the wall is buttressed by a steep talus in many places. Inthe sheen of the midday sun, these rocks, which are besprinkled withquartz crystals, gleam like walls of diamonds. 

A climb of 800 feet over the variegated beds and the foot of the cliffsandstone is reached. It is usually olive green, with spots of brown andblack, and presents 500 feet of vertical wall over the variegatedsandstone. The dark green is in fine contrast with the variegated bedsbelow and the red wall above. 

Climb these 500 feet and you stand on the cliff sandstone. A terraceappears, and sometimes a wall of terraces set with alcoves of marvelousstructure. Climb to the summit of this alcove sandstone--700 feet--andyou stand at the foot of the red wall limestone. Sometimes this standsin two, three, or four Cyclopean steps--a mighty stairway. Oftener thered wall stands in a vertical cliff 1, 600 feet high. It is the mostconspicuous feature of the grand facade and imparts its chiefcharacteristic. All below is but a foundation for it; all above, but anentablature and sky-line of gable, tower, pinnacle, and spire. It is nota plain, unbroken wall, but is broken into vast amphitheaters, oftenmiles abound, between great angular salients. The amphitheaters also arebroken into great niches that are sometimes vast chambers and sometimesroyal arches 500 or 1, 000 feet in height. 

Over the red wall limestone, with its amphitheaters, chambers, niches, and royal arches--a climb of 1, 600 feet--is the banded sandstone, theentablature over the niched and columned marble, an adamantine molding800 feet in thickness, stretching along the walls of the canyon throughhundreds of miles. This banded sandstone has massive strata separated byfriable shales. The massive strata are the horizontal elements in theentablature, but the intervening shales are carved with a beautifulfretwork of vertical forms, the sculpture of the rills. The massivesandstones are white, gray, blue, and purple, but the shales are abrilliant red; thus variously colored bands of massive rock areseparated by bands of vertically carved shales of a brilliant hue. 

On these highly colored beds the tower limestone is found, 1, 000 feet inheight. Everywhere this is carved into towers, minarets, and domes, grayand cold, golden and warm, alabaster and pure, in wonderful variety. 

Such are the vertical elements of which the Grand Canyon facade iscomposed. Its horizontal elements must next be considered. The rivermeanders in great curves, which are themselves broken into curves ofsmaller magnitude. The streams that head far back in the plateau oneither side come down in gorges and break the wall into sections. Eachlateral canyon has a secondary system of laterals, and the secondarycanyons are broken by tertiary canyons; so the crags are foreverbranching, like the limbs of an oak. That which has been described as awall is such only in its grand effect. In detail it is a series ofstructures separated by a ramification of canyons, each having its ownwalls. Thus, in passing down the canyon it seems to be inclosed bywalls, but oftener by salients--towering structures that stand betweencanyons that run back into the plateau. Sometimes gorges of the secondor third order have met before reaching the brink of the Grand Canyon, and then great salients are cut off from the wall and stand out asbuttes--huge pavilions in the architecture of the canyon. The scenicelements thus described are fused and combined in very different ways. 

We measured the length of the Grand Canyon by the length of the riverrunning through it, but the running extent of wall cannot be measured inthis manner. In the black gneiss, which is at the bottom, the wall maystand above the river for a few hundred yards or a mile or two; then, tofollow the foot of the wall, you must pass into a lateral canyon for along distance, perhaps miles, and then back again on the other side ofthe lateral canyon; then along by the river until another lateral canyonis reached, which must be headed in the black gneiss. So, for a dozenmiles of river through the gneiss, there may be a hundred miles of wallon either side. Climbing to the summit of the black gneiss and followingthe wall in the variegated quartzite, it is found to be stretched out toa still greater length, for it is cut with more lateral gorges. In likemanner, there is yet greater length of the mottled, or alcove, sandstonewall; and the red wall is still farther stretched out in ever branchinggorges. To make the distance for ten miles along the river by walkingalong the top of the red wall, it would be necessary to travel severalhundred miles. The length of the wall reaches its maximum in the bandedsandstone, which is terraced more than any of the other formations. Thetower limestone wall is less tortuous. To start at the head of theGrand Canyon on one of the terraces of the banded sandstone and followit to the foot of the Grand Canyon, which by river is a distance of 217miles, it would be necessary to travel many thousand miles by thewinding Way; that is, the banded wall is many thousand miles in length. 

Stand at some point on the brink of the Grand Canyon where you canoverlook the river, and the details of the structure, the vast labyrinthof gorges of which it is composed, are scarcely noticed; the elementsare lost in the grand effect, and a broad, deep, flaring gorge of manycolors is seen. But stand down among these gorges and the landscapeseems to be composed of huge vertical elements of wonderful form. Above, it is an open, sunny gorge; below, it is deep and gloomy. Above, it is achasm; below, it is a stairway from gloom to heaven. 

The traveler in the region of mountains sees vast masses piled up ingentle declivities to the clouds. To see mountains in this way is toappreciate the masses of which they are composed. But the climber amongthe glaciers sees the elements of which this mass is composed, --that itis made of cliffs and towers and pinnacles, with intervening gorges, andthe smooth billows of granite seen from afar are transformed into cliffsand caves and towers and minarets. These two aspects of mountain sceneryhave been seized by painters, and in their art two classes of mountainsare represented: mountains with towering forms that seem ready to topplein the first storm, and mountains in masses that seem to frown defianceat the tempests. Both classes have told the truth. The two aspects aresometimes caught by our painters severally; sometimes they are combined. Church paints a mountain like a kingdom of glory. Bierstadt paints amountain cliff where an eagle is lost from sight ere he reaches thesummit. Thomas Moran marries these great characteristics, and in hisinfinite masses cliffs of immeasurable height are seen. 

Thus the elements of the facade of the Grand Canyon change verticallyand horizontally. The details of structure can be seen only at closeview, but grand effects of structure can be witnessed in great panoramicscenes. Seen in detail, gorges and precipices appear; seen at adistance, in comprehensive views, vast massive structures are presented. The traveler on the brink looks from afar and is overwhelmed with thesublimity of massive forms; the traveler among the gorges stands in thepresence of awful mysteries, profound, solemn, and gloomy. 

For 8 or 10 miles below the mouth of the Little Colorado, the river isin the variegated quartzites, and a wonderful fretwork of forms andcolors, peculiar to this rock, stretches back for miles to a labyrinthof the red wall cliff; then below, the black gneiss is entered and soonhas reached an altitude of 800 feet and sometimes more than 1, 000 feet;and upon this black gneiss all the other structures in their wonderfulcolors are lifted. These continue for about 70 miles, when the blackgneiss below is lost, for the walls are dropped down by the West KaibabFault, and the river flows in the quartzites. 

Then for 80 miles the mottled, or alcove, sandstones are found in theriver bed. The course of the canyon is a little south of west and iscomparatively straight. At the top of the red wall limestone there is abroad terrace, two or three miles in width, composed of hills ofwonderful forms carved in the banded beds, and back of this is seen acliff in the tower limestone. Along the lower course of this stretch thewhole character of the canyon is changed by another set of complicatingconditions. We have now reached a region of volcanic activity. After thecanyons were cut nearly to their present depth, lavas poured out andvolcanoes were built on the walls of the canyon, but not in the canyonitself, though at places rivers of molten rock rolled down the wallsinto the Colorado. 

The next 80 miles of the canyon is a compound of that found where theriver is in the black gneiss and that found where the dead volcanoesstand on the brink of the wall. In the first stretch, where the gneissis at the foundation, we have a great bend to the south, and in the laststretch, where the gneiss is below and the dead volcanoes above, anothergreat southern detour is found. These two great beds are separated by 80miles of comparatively straight river. Let us call this first great bendthe Kaibab reach of the canyon, and the straight part the Kanab reach, for the Kanab Creek heads far off in the plateau to the north and joinsthe Colorado at the beginning of the middle stretch. The third greatsouthern bend is the Shiwits stretch. Thus there are three distinctportions of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado: the Kaibab section, characterized more by its buttes and salients; the Kanab section, characterized by its comparatively straight walls with volcanoes on thebrink; and the Shiwits section, which is broken into great terraces withgneiss at the bottom and volcanoes at the top. 

The Grand Canyon of the Colorado is a canyon composed of many canyons. It is a composite of thousands, of tens of thousands, of gorges. In likemanner, each wall of the canyon is a composite structure, a wallcomposed of many walls, but never a repetition. Every one of thesealmost innumerable gorges is a world of beauty in itself. In the GrandCanyon there are thousands of gorges like that below Niagara Palls, andthere are a thousand Yosemites. Yet all these canyons unite to form onegrand canyon, the most sublime spectacle on the earth. Pluck up Mt. Washington by the roots to the level of the sea and drop it headfirstinto the Grand Canyon, and the dam will not force its waters over thewalls. Pluck up the Blue Ridge and hurl it into the Grand Canyon, and itwill not fill it. 

The carving of the Grand Canyon is the work of rains and rivers. Thevast labyrinth of canyon by which the plateau region drained by theColorado is dissected is also the work of waters. Every river hasexcavated its own gorge and every creek has excavated its gorge. When ashower comes in this land, the rills carve canyons--but a little at eachstorm; and though storms are far apart and the heavens above arecloudless for most of the days of the year, still, years are plenty inthe ages, and an intermittent rill called to life by a shower can domuch work in centuries of centuries. 

The erosion represented in the canyons, although vast, is but a smallpart of the great erosion of the region, for between the cliffs blockshave been carried away far superior in magnitude to those necessary tofill the canyons. Probably there is no portion of the whole region fromwhich there have not been more than a thousand feet degraded, and thereare districts from which more than 30, 000 feet of rock have been carriedaway. Altogether, there is a district of country more than 200, 000square miles in extent from which on the average more than 6, 000 feethave been eroded. Consider a rock 200, 000 square miles in extent and amile in thickness, against which the clouds have hurled their storms andbeat it into sands and the rills have carried the sands into the creeksand the creeks have carried them into the rivers and the Colorado hascarried them into the sea. We think of the mountains as forming cloudsabout their brows, but the clouds have formed the mountains. Greatcontinental blocks are upheaved from beneath the sea by internalgeologic forces that fashion the earth. Then the wandering clouds, thetempest-bearing clouds, the rainbow-decked clouds, with mighty power andwith wonderful skill, carve out valleys and canyons and fashion hillsand cliffs and mountains. The clouds are the artists sublime. 

In winter some of the characteristics of the Grand Canyon areemphasized. The black gneiss below, the variegated quartzite, and thegreen or alcove sandstone form the foundation for the mighty red wall. The banded sandstone entablature is crowned by the tower limestone. Inwinter this is covered with snow. Seen from below, these changingelements seem to graduate into the heavens, and no plane of demarcationbetween wall and blue firmament can be seen. The heavens constitute aportion of the facade and mount into a vast dome from wall to wall, spanning the Grand Canyon with empyrean blue. So the earth and theheavens are blended in one vast structure. 

When the clouds play in the canyon, as they often do in the rainyseason, another set of effects is produced. Clouds creep out of canyonsand wind into other canyons. The heavens seem to be alive, not moving asmove the heavens over a plain, in one direction with the wind, butfollowing the multiplied courses of these gorges. In this manner thelittle clouds seem to be individualized, to have wills and souls oftheir own, and to be going on diverse errands--a vast assemblage ofself-willed clouds, faring here and there, intent upon purposes hiddenin their own breasts. In the imagination the clouds belong to the sky, and when they are in the canyon the skies come down into the gorges andcling to the cliffs and lift them up to immeasurable heights, for thesky must still be far away. Thus they lend infinity to the walls. 

The wonders of the Grand Canyon cannot be adequately represented insymbols of speech, nor by speech itself. The resources of the graphicart are taxed beyond their powers in attempting to portray its features. Language and illustration combined must fail. The elements that unite tomake the Grand Canyon the most sublime spectacle in nature aremultifarious and exceedingly diverse. The Cyclopean forms which resultfrom the sculpture of tempests through ages too long for man to compute, are wrought into endless details, to describe which would be a taskequal in magnitude to that of describing the stars of the heavens or themultitudinous beauties of the forest with its traceries of foliagepresented by oak and pine and poplar, by beech and linden and hawthorn, by tulip and lily and rose, by fern and moss and lichen. Besides theelements of form, there are elements of color, for here the colors ofthe heavens are rivaled by the colors of the rocks. The rainbow is notmore replete with hues. But form and color do not exhaust all the divinequalities of the Grand Canyon. It is the land of music. The riverthunders in perpetual roar, swelling in floods of music when the stormgods play upon the rocks and fading away in soft and low murmurs whenthe infinite blue of heaven is unveiled. With the melody of the greattide rising and falling, swelling and vanishing forever, other melodiesare heard in the gorges of the lateral canyons, while the waters plungein the rapids among the rocks or leap in great cataracts. Thus the GrandCanyon, is a land of song. Mountains of music swell in the rivers, hillsof music billow in the creeks, and meadows of music murmur in the rillsthat ripple over the rocks. Altogether it is a symphony of multitudinousmelodies. All this is the music of waters. The adamant foundations ofthe earth have been wrought into a sublime harp, upon which the cloudsof the heavens play with mighty tempests or with gentle showers. 

The glories and the beauties of form, color, and sound unite in theGrand Canyon--forms unrivaled even by the mountains, colors that viewith sunsets, and sounds that span the diapason from tempest to tinklingraindrop, from cataract to bubbling fountain. But more: it is a vastdistrict of country. Were it a valley plain it would make a state. Itcan be seen only in parts from hour to hour and from day to day and fromweek to week and from month to month. A year scarcely suffices to see itall. It has infinite variety, and no part is ever duplicated. Itscolors, though many and complex at any instant, change with theascending and declining sun; lights and shadows appear and vanish withthe passing clouds, and the changing seasons mark their passage inchanging colors. You cannot see the Grand Canyon in one view, as if itwere a changeless spectacle from which a curtain might be lifted, but tosee it you have to toil from month to month through its labyrinths. Itis a region more difficult to traverse than the Alps or the Himalayas, but if strength and courage are sufficient for the task, by a year'stoil a concept of sublimity can be obtained never again to be equaled onthe hither side of Paradise. 

INDEX. 

Apache Indians, home and character of the

Art, ancient, vestiges of, in the Gila and Colorado valleys

Bad lands, formation and characteristics of the

Bad lands of Green River

Baker, John, a famous mountaineer

Bierstadt, how he paints a mountain

Boats and cargoes, description of

Bosque Redondo, Navajos on a reservation at the

Bradley, G. T. , a member of the expedition

Bradley rescues others from the water

Buttes, mesas, plateaus, distinction between

Canyon cutting in the upper Colorado basin

Cavate or cliff dwellings of the Tewan Indians

Caves in a volcanic crater used as habitations by Indians

Caves in cliffs used as habitations by Indians

Ceremony at Shupaulovi to bring rain

Chambers excavated in volcanic ashes by Indians for habitations

Chumehueva Indians, low condition and former home of the

Church, how he paints a mountain

Cinder-cone town formerly inhabited by Indians

Cliff dwellings of the Tewan Indians

Cliff village of Walnut Cany on

Collecting specimens of the art of Tusayan

Colorado Canyon broken by lateral canyons

Colorado Desert, singular characteristics of the

Crater town formerly inhabited by Indians

Cult societies among the Indiana

Death, supposed, of the author

Digger Indians, the original

Dunn, W. H. , a member of the expedition

Dunn, W. H. , abandons the party and is killed by Indians

Freebooters of the Plateau Province

Fremont's Peak, height of and view from

Garfield, J. A. , insists on the publication of the history of theexpedition

Goodman, Frank, a member of the expedition

Goodman, Frank, leaves the party

Government, civil, military, and religious, among the tribes of Tusayan

Grand Canyon, how formed

Grand Canyon, the most sublime spectacle on earth

Grand Canyon walls, elements of and height of

Hall, Andrew, a member of the expedition

Hano, a visit to

Hano, location and language of

Hawkins, W. R. , a member of the expedition

Rowland, O. G. , a member of the expedition

Rowland, Seneca, a member of the expedition

Howland and Dunn abandon the party and are killed by Indians

Instruments, tools, rations, etc. 

Irrigation and hydraulic works built by the Indians

Irrigation developed by the Navajo and other Indians

Killing by the Shivwits of the three men who left the party

Kinship ties among the tribes of North America

Kit Carson, leadership of, against the Navajos

Maricopa Indians, home and character of the

Marriage and kinship ties among the North American Indians

Mashongnavi, a visit to

Mashongnavi, location and language of

Medicine-man as historian, priest, and doctor

Men who composed the exploring party

Mesas, plateaus, buttes, distinction between

Mogollon Escarpment, description of the

Mojave Indians, former home and life of the

Moran, Thomas, how he paints a mountain

Moran, Thomas, painting of "The Chasm of the Colorado"

Myth, Indian, of the origin of the Colorado Canyon and River

Myth of the Sokus Waiunats, or One-Two Boys

Mythic stories of the Ute and other Indians

Navajo Indians, home, characteristics, language, art, etc. , of the

Oraibi, a visit to

Oraibi, collecting the arts of the people of

Oraibi, life at

Oraibi, location and language of

Painted Desert region, description of the

Papago Indians, home and character of the

Pestilence and war causes of abandonment of pueblos and rancherias

Pima Indians, home and character of the

Plateaus, mesas, buttes, distinction between

Powell, W. H. , a member of the expedition

Pueblo Indians, languages and culture of the

Rabbit snaring by the Utes

Rations, clothing, ammunition, tools, and scientific instruments

Rescued from a perilous position

Ruins in the Grand Canyon region

Ruins of ancient pueblo-building tribes in the valley of the LittleColorado and vicinity

Ruins of ancient pueblo-building tribes on San Francisco Plateau

Ruins of cavate or cliff dwellings of the Tewan Indians

Scenic features of the Canyon land

Shivwits chief talks

Shoshone Indians, home and life of the

Shumopavi, a visit to

Shumopavi, location and language of

Shupaulovi, a visit to

Shupaulovi, location and language of

Sichumovi, a visit to

Sichumovi, location and language of

Snake dance at Walpi

Sokus Waiunats, or One-Two Boys

Spanish expeditions and conquerors in the Southwest

Starting from Green River City for the Canyon

Stories, mythic, of the Ute and other Indians

Storm below the beholder

Sumner, J. C. , a member of the expedition

Thousand Wells

Timber region of Arizona, description of the

Trumbull. Mount, ascent of

Tusayan, the seven pueblos of

Tusayan, tribes of, government among the

Tusayan, two weeks spent at

Uinta Indians, home of the

Ute Indians, home, life, dress, etc. , of the

Volcanic dust, enormous amount of, on Tewan Plateau

Walpi, a visit to

Walpi, location and language of

War and pestilence causes of abandonment of pueblos and rancherias

Yellowstone Park, the land of geyser wonders

Yuma Indians, former home and life of the