LITTLE MASTERPIECES OF SCIENCE

[Illustration: Christopher Columbus. ]

Little Masterpiecesof Science

Edited by George Iles

EXPLORERS

 Christopher Columbus Charles Wilkes Lewis and Clarke Clarence King Zebulon M. Pike John Wesley Powell

[Illustration]

NEW YORK

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY

1902

Copyright, 1902, by Doubleday, Page & Co. 

Copyright, 1891, by Justin Winsor

Copyright, 1871, by Oliver Wendell Holmes

PREFACE

 "Peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war. "

The love of adventure, the expectation of the unexpected, have everprompted men stout of heart, and ready of resource, to brave the perilsof wilderness and sea that they might set their feet where man nevertrod before. The world owes much to the explorers who have faced hostilesavages, stood in jeopardy from the cobra and the lion, the foes asdeadly which lurk in the brook which quenches thirst. A traveller likeClarke takes his life in his hands. He breaks a path which leads heknows not whither: it may bring him to a shore whence he has no ship tosail from; it may end in an abyss he cannot bridge. The thickets rendand sting him, poison may colour a tempting grain or berry, frost maydeaden his energies and lull him to the sleep that knows no waking. Hehas but little aid from science: beyond food and medicine he carrieslittle more than a watch, a compass, a rifle, and a cartridge belt. Beyond all instruments and weapons are his skill, agility, gumption, diplomacy. And these resources in no mean measure are shared by the manfor whom he prepares the way, the immigrant, who, in the early days ofsettlement, requires a constancy even higher than the explorer's own. It is one thing to traverse a wilderness under the excitement of hourlyadventure; it is another thing to stay there for a lifetime and convertit to a home. 

The race of American explorers is not extinct. Major Powell is with usto-day, hale and hearty still. Peary, in the prime of his powers, is ascapital an example of courage and resource as ever threw themselves uponthe riddle of the frozen north. Beyond the Arctic and Antarctic circleslittle remains unknown on earth. When at last every rood of ground andknot of sea is mapped and charted, whither shall the explorer direct hissteps? He cannot repeat the conquests of Lewis and Clarke, Pike andPeary, but he need not on that account fold his hands so long as a braveheart and a quick wit are wanted in the world. 

GEORGE ILES

CONTENTS

 WINSOR, JUSTIN

 COLUMBUS DISCOVERS AMERICA

 Embarks at Palos, August 3, 1492. A mishap befalls the _Pinta_. Sees the Peak of Teneriffe in eruption. Arrives at the Canaries. Falsifies his reckoning to conceal from his crew the length of the voyage. On September 13th his compass points to the true north, a fact without precedent. Next day a water wagtail is seen, betokening an approach to land. Two pelicans alight on board, with the same significance. These promises fail, and the crew becomes disheartened and discontented. On October 11th Columbus sees a light, presumably on shore: four hours later, next day, land is descried and named by Columbus San Salvador. Discussion as to where this place is: the balance of probability inclines to Watling's Island. 3

 LEWIS AND CLARKE

 ARRIVAL AT THE PACIFIC OCEAN, 1805

 Descent of the last rapid of the Columbia River, November 2. A feast of wappatoo root. Meet unfriendly Indians. Observe Mount St. Helen, of Vancouver, about ninety miles off. The country fertile and delightful, abounding with game. The ocean suddenly appears. Rough weather and its effects. Friendly Indians bring food. Rain ruins merchandise, clothing and food. Thievish Indians are withstood. The journey comes successfully to an end. 29

 PIKE, ZEBULON M. 

 THE SOURCES OF THE MISSISSIPPI, 1806

 Meets friendly Indians and whites. A serious fire. Deep snow inflicts severe hardship. A trackless journey ends in safety and a hospitable welcome. Provisions exorbitant in price. A march on snowshoes. Sleds of native pattern are made. Delay through water on the ice. Bitter cold and the curse of solitude. A dismal swamp. Unfriendly Indians and the purchasing power of whiskey. The main source of the Mississippi comes into view. Disabled by excessive exertion. Hoists the flag. Visits of Indian chiefs. 55

 WILKES, CHARLES

 MANILA IN 1842

 Character of the city Spanish and Oriental: numerous canals. A strange and motley population, the artisans for the most part Chinese. Malays and Chinese live apart. Much evidence of volcanic activity in the Philippines. Natural resources abundant. Primitive tools cause much waste of labour. The buffalo as a draught animal. Rice the staple diet: defective mode of culture. Hemp, its growth and manufacture. Crops of coffee, sugar and cotton. The ravages of locusts. Geography of the country and the diverse elements of its population. Its army of about 6, 000. Frequent rebellions among the troops and tribes. Iron rule of the Government. The market-place a scene of unending interest. Excellent poultry. The environs of Manila delightful. 71

 KING, CLARENCE

 THE ASCENT OF MOUNT TYNDALL

 An eight hours' climb over ridges of granite and snow. "Shall we ascend Mount Tyndall?" "Why not?" At first Professor Brewer believes the attempt madness, but yields consent at last. The climb begins and steadily increases in difficulty. A gulf of 5, 000 feet in depth. A night's lodging in a granite crevice. Rocks of many tons strike near. The galling pain of heavy burdens. A profound chasm is crossed on a rope. Exhilaration of utmost peril. A small bush ensures salvation. A welcome stretch of trees and flowers. A spire, all but perpendicular, of rock and ice is surmounted, and at last is reached the crest of Mount Tyndall. 97

 POWELL, JOHN WESLEY

 THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO IS EXPLORED

 Embarkation under cliffs 4, 000 feet high. A swift run ends in a descent of eighty feet in one-third of a mile. Breakers render a boat unmanageable. Walls more than a mile high. The baffling waters capsize a boat. Relics of ancient dwelling-places. Rations destroyed by wet. Clothing lost and blankets scarce. Grand views not fully enjoyed. A wild run through ten miles of rapids. In places the rocks so cut by water that it is impossible to see overhead. Great amphitheatres, half-dome shaped. Mammoth springs of lime-laden waters. An ancient lava-bed channelled out. Stolen squashes provide a feast. Difficulties thicken: is it wise to go on? Three of the party say no, the remainder proceed. All but lost in a whirlpool. Emergence from the Grand Cañon in safety and joy. 131

EXPLORERS COLUMBUS DISCOVERS AMERICA

Justin Winsor

 [Part of Chapter IX. , "The Final Agreement and the First Voyage" from "Christopher Columbus and How He Received and Imparted the Spirit of Discovery, " copyright by Houghton, Mifflin & Co. , Boston and New York, 1892. ]

So, everything being ready, on the 3rd of August, 1492, a half-hourbefore sunrise, he unmoored his little fleet in the stream, and, spreading his sails, the vessels passed out of the little riverroadstead of Palos, gazed after, perhaps, in the increasing light, asthe little crafts reached the ocean, by the friar of Rabida, from itsdistant promontory of rock. 

The day was Friday, and the advocates of Columbus's canonization havenot failed to see a purpose in its choice as the day of our Redemption, and as that of the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre by Geoffrey deBouillon, and of the rendition of Granada, with the fall of the Moslempower in Spain. We must resort to the books of such advocates, if wewould enliven the picture with a multitude of rites and devotionalfeelings that they gather in the meshes of the story of the departure. They supply to the embarkation a variety of detail that their holypurposes readily imagine, and place Columbus at last on his poop, withthe standard of the Cross, the image of the Saviour nailed to the holywood, waving in the early breeze that heralded the day. Theembellishments may be pleasing, but they are not of the strictestauthenticity. 

In order that his performance of an embassy to the princes of the Eastmight be duly chronicled, Columbus determined, as his journal says, tokeep an account of the voyage by the west, "by which course, " he says, "unto the present time, we do not know, _for certain_, that any one haspassed. " It was his purpose to write down, as he proceeded, everythinghe saw and all that he did, and to make a chart of his discoveries, andto show the directions of his track. 

Nothing occurred during those early August days to mar his run to theCanaries, except the apprehension which he felt that an accident, happening to the rudder of the _Pinta_, --a steering gear now for sometime in use, in place of the old lateral blades, --was a trick of twomen, her owners, Gomez Rascon and Christopher Quintero, to impede avoyage in which they had no heart. The Admiral knew the disposition ofthese men well enough not to be surprised at the mishap, but he tried tofeel secure in the prompt energy of Pinzon, who commanded the _Pinta_. 

As he passed (August 24-25, 1492) the peak of Teneriffe, it was the timeof an eruption, of which he makes bare mention in his journal. It is tothe corresponding passage of the _Historie_, [written by his son, Fernando, ] that we owe the somewhat sensational stories of the terrorsof the sailors, some of whom certainly must long have been accustomed tolike displays in the volcanoes of the Mediterranean. 

At the Gran Canarie the _Nina_ was left to have her lateen sails changedto square ones; and the _Pinta_, it being found impossible to find abetter vessel to take her place, was also left to be overhauled for herleaks, and to have her rudder again repaired, while Columbus visitedGomera, another of the islands. The fleet was reunited at Gomera onSeptember 2. Here he fell in with some residents of the Ferro, thewestermost of the group, who repeated the old stories of landoccasionally seen from its heights, lying towards the setting sun. Having taken on board wood, water, and provisions, Columbus finallysailed from Gomera on the morning of Thursday, September 6. He seems tohave soon spoken a vessel from Ferro, and from this he learned thatthree Portuguese caravels were lying in wait for him in theneighbourhood of that island, with a purpose, as he thought, of visitingin some way upon him, for having gone over to the interests of Spain, the indignation of the Portuguese king. He escaped encountering them. 

Up to Sunday, September 9, they had experienced so much calm weather, that their progress had been slow. This tediousness soon raised anapprehension in the mind of Columbus that the voyage might prove toolong for the constancy of his men. He accordingly determined to falsifyhis reckoning. This deceit was a large confession of his own timidityin dealing with his crew, and it marked the beginning of a long strugglewith deceived and mutinous subordinates, which forms so large a part ofthe record of his subsequent career. 

The result of Monday's sail, which he knew to be sixty leagues, he notedas forty-eight, so that the distance from home might appear less than itwas. He continued to practise this deceit. 

The distances given by Columbus are those of dead reckoning beyond anyquestion. Lieutenant Murdock, of the United States Navy, who hascommented on this voyage, makes his league the equivalent of threemodern nautical miles, and his mile about three-quarters of our presentestimate for that distance. Navarrete says that Columbus reckoned inItalian miles, which are a quarter less than Spanish miles. The Admiralhad expected to make land after sailing about seven hundred leagues fromFerro; and in ordering his vessels in case of separation to proceedwestward, he warned them when they sailed that distance to come to thewind at night, and only to proceed by day. 

The log as at present understood in navigation had not yet been devised. Columbus depended in judging of his distance on the eye alone, basinghis calculations on the passage of objects or bubbles past the ship, while the running out of his hour glasses afforded the multiple for longdistances. 

On Thursday, the 13th of September, he notes that the ships wereencountering adverse currents. He was now three degrees west of Flores, and the needle of the compass pointed as it had never been observedbefore, directly to the true north. His observation of this fact marks asignificant point in the history of navigation. The polarity of themagnet, an ancient possession of the Chinese, had been known perhaps forthree hundred years, when this new spirit of discovery awoke in thefifteenth century. The Indian Ocean and its traditions were to impart, perhaps through the Arabs, perhaps through the returning Crusaders, aknowledge of the magnet to the dwellers on the shores of theMediterranean, and to the hardier mariners who had pushed beyond thepillars of Hercules, so that the new route to that same Indian Ocean wasmade possible in the fifteenth century. The way was prepared for itgradually. The Catalans from the port of Barcelona pushed out into thegreat Sea of Darkness under the direction of their needles, as early atleast as the twelfth century. The pilots of Genoa and Venice, the hardyMajorcans and the adventurous Moors, were followers of almost equaltemerity. 

A knowledge of the variation of the needle came more slowly to be knownto the mariners of the Mediterranean. It had been observed by Peregrinias early as 1269, but that knowledge of it which rendered it greatlyserviceable in voyages does not seem to be plainly indicated in any ofthe charts of these transition centuries, till we find it laid down onthe maps of Andrea Bianco in 1436. 

It was no new thing then when Columbus, as he sailed westward, markedthe variation, proceeding from the northeast more and more westerly; butit was a revelation when he came to a position where the magnetic northand the north star stood in conjunction, as they did on this 13th ofSeptember, 1492. As he still moved westerly the magnetic line was foundto move farther and farther away from the pole as it had before the 13thapproached it. To an observer of Columbus's quick perceptions, there wasa ready guess to possess his mind. This inference was that this line ofno variation was a meridian line, and that divergence from it east andwest might have a regularity which would be found to furnish a method ofascertaining longitude far easier and surer than tables or water clocks. We know that four years later he tried to sail his ship on observationsof this kind. The same idea seems to have occurred to Sebastian Cabot, when a little afterwards he approached and passed in a higher latitude, what he supposed to be the meridian of no variation. Humboldt isinclined to believe that the possibility of such a method ofascertaining longitude was that uncommunicable secret, which SebastianCabot many years later hinted at on his death-bed. 

The claim was made near a century later by Livio Sanuto in his_Geographia_, published at Venice, in 1588, that Sebastian Cabot hadbeen the first to observe this variation, and had explained it toEdward VI. , and that he had on a chart placed the line of no variationat a point one hundred and ten miles west of the island of Flores in theAzores. 

These observations of Columbus and Cabot were not wholly accepted duringthe sixteenth century. Robert Hues, in 1592, a hundred years later, tells us that Medina, the Spanish grand pilot, was not disinclined tobelieve that mariners saw more in it than really existed and that theyfound it a convenient way to excuse their own blunders. Nonius wascredited with saying that it simply meant that worn-out magnets wereused, which had lost their power to point correctly to the pole. Othershad contended that it was through insufficient application of theloadstone to the iron that it was so devious in its work. 

What was thought possible by the early navigators possessed the minds ofall seamen in varying experiments for two centuries and a half. Thoughnot reaching such satisfactory results as were hoped for, theexpectation did not prove so chimerical as was sometimes imagined whenit was discovered that the lines of variation were neither parallel, norstraight, nor constant. The line of no variation which Columbus foundnear the Azores had moved westward with erratic inclinations, untilto-day it is not far from a straight line from Carolina to Guinea. Science, beginning with its crude efforts at the hands of Alonzo deSanta Cruz, in 1530, has so mapped the surface of the globe withobservations of its multifarious freaks of variation, and the changesare so slow, that a magnetic chart is not a bad guide to-day forascertaining the longitude in any latitude for a few years neighbouringto the date of its records. So science has come around in some measureto the dreams of Columbus and Cabot. 

But this was not the only development which came from this ominous dayin the mid-Atlantic in that September of 1492. The fancy of Columbus waseasily excited, and notions of a change of climate, and even aberrationof the stars were easily imagined by him amid the strange phenomena ofthat untracked waste. 

While Columbus was suspecting that the north star was somewhat wilfullyshifting from the magnetic pole, now to a distance of 5° and then of10°, the calculations of modern astronomers have gauged the polardistance existing in 1492 at 3° 28´, as against the 1° 20´ of to-day. The confusion of Columbus was very like his confounding an old worldwith a new, inasmuch as he supposed it was the pole star and not theneedle which was shifting. 

He argued from what he saw, or what he thought he saw, that the line ofno variation marked the beginning of a protuberance of the earth, upwhich he ascended as he sailed westerly, and that this was the reason ofthe cooler weather which he experienced. He never got over some notionsof this kind, and he believed he found confirmation of them in his latervoyages. 

Even as early as the reign of Edward III. Of England, Nicholas of Lynn, a voyager to the northern seas, is thought to have definitely fixed themagnetic pole in the Arctic regions, transmitting his views to Cnoyen, the master of the later Mercator, in respect to the four circumpolarislands, which in the sixteenth century made so constant a surroundingof the north pole. 

The next day (September 14), after these magnetic observations, a waterwagtail was seen from the _Nina_, --a bird which Columbus thoughtunaccustomed to fly over twenty-five leagues from land, and the shipswere now, according to their reckoning, not far from two hundred leaguesfrom the Canaries. On Saturday they saw a distant bolt of fire fall intothe sea. On Sunday, they had a drizzling rain, followed by pleasantweather, which reminded Columbus of the nightingales, gladdening theclimate of Andalusia in April. They found around the ships much greenfloatage of weeds, which led them to think some islands must be near. Navarrete thinks there was some truth in this, inasmuch as the charts ofthe early part of this century represent breakers as having been seen in1802, near the spot where Columbus can be computed to have been at thistime. Columbus was in fact within that extensive _prairie_ of floatingseaweed which is known as the Sargasso Sea, whose principal longitudinalaxis is found in modern times to lie along the parallel of 41° 30´, andthe best calculations which can be made from the rather uncertain dataof Columbus's journal seem to point to about the same position. 

There is nothing in all these accounts, as we have them abridged by LaCasas, to indicate any great surprise, and certainly nothing of theoverwhelming fear which, the _Historie_ tells us, the sailorsexperienced when they found their ships among these floating masses ofweeds, raising apprehension of a perpetual entanglement in theirswashing folds. 

The next day (September 17) the currents became favourable, and theweeds still floated about them. The variation of the needle now becameso great that the seamen were dismayed, as the journal says, and theobservation being repeated Columbus practised another deceit and made itappear that there had been really no variation, but only a shifting ofthe polar star! The weeds were now judged to be river weeds, and a livecrab was found among them, --a sure sign of near land, as Columbusbelieved, or affected to believe. They killed a tunny and saw others. They again observed a water wagtail, "which does not sleep at sea. " Eachship pushed on for the advance, for it was thought the goal was near. The next day the _Pinta_ shot ahead and saw great flocks of birdstowards the west. Columbus conceived that the sea was growing, fresher. Heavy clouds hung on the northern horizon, a sure sign of land, it wassupposed. 

On the next day two pelicans came on board, and Columbus records thatthese birds are not accustomed to go twenty leagues from land. So hesounded with a line of two hundred fathoms to be sure he was notapproaching land; but no bottom was found. A drizzling rain alsobetokened land, which they could not stop to find, but would search foron their return, as the journal says. The pilots now compared theirreckonings. Columbus said they were 400 leagues, while the _Pinta's_record showed 420, and the _Nina's_ 440. 

On September 20 other pelicans came on board; and the ships were againamong the weeds. Columbus was determined to ascertain if these indicatedshoal water and sounded, but could not reach bottom. The men caught abird with feet like a gull; but they were convinced it was a river bird. Then singing land birds, as was fancied, hovered about as it darkened, but they disappeared before morning. Then a pelican was observed flyingto the southwest, and as "these birds sleep on shore, and go to sea inthe morning, " the men encouraged themselves with the belief that theycould not be far from land. The next day a whale could be but anotherindication of land; and the weeds covered the sea all about. OnSaturday, they steered west by northwest, and got clear of the weeds. This change of course so far to the north, which had begun on theprevious day, was occasioned by a head wind, and Columbus says hewelcomed it, because it had the effect of convincing the sailors thatwesterly winds to return by were not impossible. On Sunday (September23), they found the wind still varying; but they made more westeringthan before, --weeds, crabs, and birds still about them. Now there wassmooth water, which again depressed the seamen; then the sea arose, mysteriously, for there was no wind to cause it. They still kept theircourse westerly and continued it till the night of September 25. 

Columbus at this time conferred with Pinzon, as to a chart which theycarried, which showed some islands, near where they now supposed theships to be. That they had not seen land, they believed was either dueto currents which had carried them too far north, or else theirreckoning was not correct. At sunset Pinzon hailed the Admiral, and saidhe saw land, claiming the reward. The two crews were confident that suchwas the case, and under the lead of their commanders they all kneeledand repeated the _Gloria in Excelsis_. The land appeared to liesouthwest, and everybody saw the apparition. Columbus changed thefleet's course to reach it; and as the vessels went on, in the smoothsea, the men had the heart, under their expectation, to bathe in itsamber glories. On Wednesday, they were undeceived, and found that theclouds had played them a trick. On the 27th their course lay moredirectly west. So they went on, and still remarked upon all the birdsthey saw and weed-drift which they pierced. Some of the fowl theythought to be such as were common at the Cape Verde Islands, and werenot supposed to go far to sea. On the 30th of September, they stillobserved the needles of their compasses to vary, but the journal recordsthat it was the pole star which moved, and not the needle. On October 1, Columbus says they were 707 leagues from Ferro; but he had made his crewbelieve they were only 584. As they went on, little new for the next fewdays is recorded in the journal; but on October 3, they thought they sawamong the weeds something like fruits. By the 6th, Pinzon began to urgea southwesterly course, in order to find the islands, which the signsseemed to indicate in that direction. Still the Admiral would not swervefrom his purpose, and kept his course westerly. On Sunday the _Nina_fired a bombard and hoisted a flag as a signal that she saw land, but itproved a delusion. Observing towards evening a flock of birds flying tothe southwest, the Admiral yielded to Pinzon's belief, and shifted hiscourse to follow the birds. He records as a further reason for it thatit was by following the flights of birds that the Portuguese had been sosuccessful in discovering islands in other seas. 

Columbus now found himself two hundred miles and more farther than thethree thousand miles west of Spain, where he supposed Cipango to lie, and he was 25-1/2° north of the equator, according to his astrolabe. Thetrue distance of Cipango or Japan was sixty-eight hundred miles stillfarther, or beyond both North America and the Pacific. How much beyondthat island, in its supposed geographical position, Columbus expected tofind the Asiatic main we can only conjecture from the restorations whichmodern scholars have made of Toscanelli's map, which makes the islandabout 10° east of Asia, and from Behaim's globe, which makes it 20°. Itshould be borne in mind that the knowledge of its position came fromMarco Polo, and he does not distinctly say how far it was from theAsiatic coast. In a general way, as to these distances from Spain toChina, Toscanelli and Behaim agreed, and there is no reason to believethat the views of Columbus were in any noteworthy degree different. 

In the trial years afterward, when the Fiscal contested the rights ofDiego Colon, it was put in evidence by one Vallejo, a seaman, thatPinzon was induced to urge the direction to be changed to the southwest, because he had in the preceding evening observed a flight of parrots inthat direction, which could have only been seeking land. It was the mainpurpose of the evidence in this part of the trial to show that Pinzonhad all along forced Columbus forward against his will. 

How pregnant this change of course in the vessels of Columbus was hasnot escaped the observation of Humboldt and many others. A day or twofurther on his westerly way, and the Gulf Stream would, perhaps, insensibly have borne the little fleet up the Atlantic coast of thefuture United States, so that the banner of Castile might have beenplanted at Carolina. 

On the 7th of October, Columbus was pretty nearly in latitude 25°50´, --that of one of the Bahama Islands. Just where he was by longitudethere is much more doubt, probably between 65° and 66°. On the next daythe land birds flying along the course of the ships seemed to confirmtheir hopes. On the 10th the journal records that the men began to losepatience; but the Admiral reassured them by reminding them of theprofits in store for them, and of the folly of seeking to return whenthey had already gone so far. 

It is possible that, in this entry, Columbus conceals the story whichcame out later in the recital of Oviedo, with more detail than in the_Historie_ and Las Casas, that the rebellion of his crew was threateningenough to oblige him to promise to turn back if land was not discoveredin three days. Most commentators, however, are inclined to think thatthis story of a mutinous revolt was merely engrafted from hearsay orother source by Oviedo upon the more genuine recital, and that theconspiracy to throw the Admiral into the sea has no substantial basis incontemporary report. Irving, who has a dramatic tendency throughout hiswhole account of the voyage to heighten his recital with touches of theimagination, nevertheless allows this, and thinks that Oviedo wasmisled by listening to a pilot, who was a personal enemy of the Admiral. 

The elucidations of the voyage which were drawn out in the famous suitof Diego with the Crown in 1513 and 1515, afford no ground for anybelief in this story of the mutiny and the concession of Columbus to it. 

It is not, however, difficult to conceive the recurrent fears of his menand the incessant anxiety of Columbus to quiet them. From what PeterMartyr tells us, --and he may have got it directly from Columbus'slips, --the task was not an easy one to preserve subordination and toinstil confidence. He represents that Columbus was forced to resort inturn to argument, persuasion and enticements, and to picture themisfortunes of the royal displeasure. 

The next day, notwithstanding a heavier sea than they had beforeencountered, certain signs sufficed to lift them out of theirdespondency. These were floating logs, or pieces of wood, one of themapparently carved by hand, bits of cane, a green rush, a stalk of roseberries and other drifting tokens. 

Their southwesterly course had now brought them down to about thetwenty-fourth parallel, when after sunset on the 11th they shifted theircourse to due west, while the crew of the Admiral's ship united, withmore fervour than usual, in the _Salve Regina_. At about ten o'clockColumbus, peering into the night, thought he saw--if we may believehim--a moving light, and pointing out the direction to Pero Gutierrez, this companion saw it too; but another, Rodrigo Sanchez, situatedapparently on another part of the vessel, was not able to see it. It wasnot brought to the attention of any others. The Admiral says that thelight seemed to be moving up and down, and he claimed to have got otherglimpses of its glimmer at a later moment. He ordered the _Salve_ to bechanted, and directed a vigilant watch to be set on the forecastle. Tosharpen their vision he promised a silken jacket, beside the income often thousand maravedis which the King and Queen had offered to thefortunate man who should first descry the coveted land. 

This light has been the occasion of such comment, and nothing will ever, it is likely, be settled about it, further than that the Admiral, withan inconsiderate rivalry of a common sailor, who later saw the actualland, and with an ungenerous assurance, ill-befitting a commander, pocketed a reward which belonged to another. If Oviedo, with hisprejudices, is to be believed, Columbus was not even the first whoclaimed to have seen this dubious light. There is a common story thatthe poor sailor, who was defrauded, later turned Mohammedan and went tolive among that juster people. There is a sort of retributive justice inthe fact that the pension of the Crown was made a charge upon theshambles of Seville, and thence Columbus received it till he died. 

Whether the light is to be considered a reality or a fiction will dependmuch on the theory each may hold regarding the position of the landfall. When Columbus claimed to have discovered it, he was twelve or fourteenleagues away from the island, where four hours later land wasindubitably found. Was the light on a canoe? Was it on some small, outlying island, as has been suggested? Was it a torch carried from hutto hut, as Herrera avers? Was it on either of the other vessels? Was iton the low island on which, the next morning he landed? There was noelevation on that island sufficient to show even a strong light at adistance of ten leagues. Was it a fancy or a deceit? No one can say. Itis very difficult for Navarrete, and even for Irving, to rest satisfiedwith what after all may have been only an illusion of a fevered mind, making a record of the incident in the excitement of a wonderful hour, when his intelligence was not as circumspect as it might have been. 

Four hours after the light was seen, at two o'clock in the morning, whenthe moon, near its third quarter, was in the east, the _Pinta_, keepingahead, one of her sailors, Rodrigo de Triane descried the land twoleagues away, and a gun communicated the joyful intelligence to theother ships. The fleet took in sail, and each vessel, under backedcanvas, was pointed to the wind. Thus they waited for daybreak. It was aproud moment of painful suspense for Columbus; and brimming hopes, perhaps fears of disappointment, must have accompanied that hour ofwavering enchantment. It was Friday, October 12, of the old chronology, and the little fleet had been thirty-three days on its way from theCanaries, and we must add ten days more to complete the period sincethey left Palos. The land before them was seen, as the day dawned, to bea small island, "called in the Indian tongue" Guanahani. Some nakednatives were descried. The Admiral and the commanders of the othervessels prepared to land. Columbus took the royal standard and theothers each a banner of the green cross, which bore the initials of thesovereign with a cross between, a crown surmounting every letter. Thus, with the emblems of their power, and accompanied by Rodrigo de Escovedaand Rodrigo Sanchez and some seamen, the boat rowed to the shore. Theyimmediately took formal possession of the land, and the notary recordedit. 

The words of the prayer usually given as uttered by Columbus on takingpossession of San Salvador, when he named the island, cannot be tracedfarther back than a collection of _Tablas Chronologicas_, got togetherat Valencia in 1689, by a Jesuit father, Claudio Clemente. Harrissefinds no authority for the statement of the French canonizers thatColumbus established a form of prayer which was long in vogue, for suchoccupations of new lands. 

Las Casas, from whom we have the best account of the ceremonies of thelanding, does not mention it; but we find pictured in his pages thegrave impressiveness of the hour; the form of Columbus, with a crimsonrobe over his armour, central and grand; and the humbleness of hisfollowers in their contrition for the hours of their faint-heartedness. 

Columbus now enters in his journal his impressions of the island and itsinhabitants. He says of the land that it bore green trees, was wateredby many streams, and produced divers fruits. In another place he speaksof the island as flat, without lofty eminence, surrounded by reefs, witha lake in the interior. 

The courses and distances of his sailing both before and on leaving theisland, as well as this description, are the best means we have ofidentifying the spot of this portentous landfall. The early maps mayhelp in a subsidiary way, but with little precision. 

There is just enough uncertainty and contradiction respecting the dataand arguments applied in the solution of this question, to render itprobable that men will never quite agree which of the Bahamas it wasupon which these startled and exultant Europeans first stepped. ThoughLas Casas reports the journal of Columbus unabridged for a period afterthe landfall, he unfortunately condenses it for some time previous. There is apparently no chance of finding geographical conditions that inevery respect will agree with this record of Columbus, and we mustcontent ourselves with what offers the fewest disagreements. An obviousmethod, if we could depend on Columbus's dead reckoning, would be to seefor what island the actual distance from the Canaries would be nearestto his computed run; but currents and errors of the eye necessarilythrow this sort of computation out of the question, and Captain G. A. Fox, who has tried it, finds that Cat Island is three hundred andseventeen, the Grand Turk six hundred and twenty-four nautical miles, and the other supposable points at intermediate distances out of the wayas compared with his computation of the distance run by Columbus, threethousand four hundred and fifty-eight of such miles. 

The reader will remember the Bahama group as a range of islands, islets, and rocks, said to be some three thousand in number, running southeastfrom a point part way up the Florida coast, and approaching at the otherend the coast of Hispaniola. In the latitude of the lower point ofFlorida, and five degrees east of it, is the island of San Salvador orCat Island, which is the most northerly of those claimed to have beenthe landfall of Columbus. Proceeding down the group, we encounterWatling's, Samana, Acklin (with the Plana Cays), Mariguana, and theGrand Turk, --all of which have their advocates. The three methods ofidentification which have been followed are, first, by plotting theoutward track; second, by plotting the track between the landfall andCuba, both forward and backward; third, by applying the descriptions, particularly Columbus's, of the island first seen. In this last test, Harrisse prefers to apply the description of Las Casas, which isborrowed in part from that of the _Historie_, and he reconcilesColumbus's apparent discrepancy when he says in one place that theisland was "pretty large, " and in another "small, " by supposing that hemay have applied these opposite terms, the lesser to the Plana Cays, asfirst seen, and the other to the Crooked Group, or Acklin Island, lyingjust westerly, on which he may have landed. Harrisse is the only one whomakes this identification; and he finds some confirmation in later maps, which show thereabout an island, Triango or Triangulo, a name said byLas Casas to have been applied to Guanahani at a later day. There is noknown map earlier than 1540 bearing this alternative name of Triango. 

San Salvador seems to have been the island selected by the earliest ofmodern inquirers in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and it hashad the support of Irving and Humboldt in later times. Captain AlexanderSlidell Mackenzie of the United States navy worked out the problem forIrving. It is much larger than any of the other islands, and couldhardly have been called by Columbus in any alternative way a "small"island, while it does not answer Columbus's description of being level, having on it an eminence of four hundred feet, and no interior lagoon, as his Guanahani demands. The French canonizers stand by the oldtraditions, and find it meet to say that "the English Protestants notfinding the name of San Salvador fine enough have substituted for itthat of Cat, and in their hydrographical atlases the Island of the HolySaviour is nobly called Cat Island. "

The weight of modern testimony seems to favour Watling's Island, and itso far answers Columbus's description that about one-third of itsinterior is water, corresponding to his "large lagoon. " Muñoz firstsuggested it in 1793; but the arguments in its favour were first spreadout by Captain Becher of the royal navy in 1856, and he seems to haveinduced Oscar Peschel in 1858 to adopt the same views in his history ofthe range of modern discovery. Major, the map custodian of the BritishMuseum, who had previously followed Navarrete in favouring the GrandTurk, again addressed himself to the problem in 1870, and fell into linewith the adherents of Watling's. No other considerable advocacy of thisisland, if we except the testimony of Gerard Stein in 1883, in a book onvoyages of discovery, appeared till Lieutenant J. B. Murdoch, an officerof the American navy, made a very careful examination of the subject inthe _Proceedings of the United States Naval Institute_ in 1884, which isaccepted by Charles A. Schott in the _Bulletin of the United StatesCoast Survey_. Murdoch was the first to plot in a backward way the trackbetween Guanahani and Cuba, and he finds more points of resemblance inColumbus's description with Watling's than with any other. The latestadherent is the eminent geographer, Clements R. Markham, in the bulletinof the Italian Geographical Society in 1889. Perhaps no cartographicalargument has been so effective as that of Major in comparing moderncharts with the map of Herrera, in which the latter lays Guanahani down. 

An elaborate attempt to identity Samana as the landfall was made by thelate Captain Gustavus Vasa Fox, in an appendix to the _Report of theUnited States Coast Survey_ for 1880. Varnhagen, in 1864, selectedMariguana, and defended his choice in a paper. This island fails tosatisfy the physical conditions in being without interior water. Such aqualification, however, belongs to the Grand Turk Island, which wasadvocated first by Navarrete in 1826, whose views have since beensupported by George Gibbs, and for a while by Major. 

It is rather curious to note that Caleb Cushing, who undertook toexamine this question in the _North American Review_, under the guidanceof Navarrete's theory, tried the same backward method which has beenlater applied to the problem, but with quite different results fromthose reached by more recent investigators. He says, "By setting outfrom Nipe which is the point where Columbus struck Cuba and proceedingin a retrograde direction along his course, we may surely trace hispath, and shall be convinced that Guanahani is no other than Turk'sIsland. "

[Illustration: THE LANDFALL OF COLUMBUS, 1492. [After Ruge. ]

_Key:_ -- -- according to Muñoz and Becher. ---- Irving and Humboldt. -+-+ Varnhagen --. --. Navarrete. ]

LEWIS AND CLARKE REACH THE PACIFIC OCEAN

 [In 1804-6 Captains Lewis and Clarke, by order of the Government of the United States, commanded an expedition to the sources of the Missouri, thence across the Rocky Mountains and down the River Columbia to the Pacific Ocean. Chapter IV. , which follows, is taken from the second volume of the History of the Expedition, published by Harper & Brothers, New York, 1842. The matter of the original journal is indicated by inverted commas, and where portions of it embracing minute and uninteresting particulars, have been omitted, the leading facts have been briefly stated by the editor, Archibald McVickar, in his own words, so that the connection of the narrative is preserved unbroken and nothing of importance is lost to the reader. The History of the Expedition, edited, with notes by Elliott Coues, was published in 1893 in four volumes by Francis P. Harper, New York. This edition surpasses every other in its excellence: it has passed out of print, but may be found in many public libraries. In 1901 Houghton, Mifflin & Co. , Boston, published "Lewis and Clark, " by Wm. R. Lighton: within one hundred and fifty-nine small pages the story of the famous expedition is admirably condensed. Good portraits of Lewis and Clark form the frontispiece. ]

"_November 2, 1805. _ We now examined the rapid below more particularly, and the danger appearing to be too great for the loaded canoes, allthose who could not swim were sent with the baggage by land. The canoesthen passed safely down and were reloaded. At the foot of the rapid wetook a meridian altitude and found our latitude to be 59° 45´ 45". "

This rapid forms the last of the descents of the Columbia; andimmediately below it the river widens, and tidewater commences. Shortlyafter starting they passed an island three miles in length and to which, from that plant being seen on it in great abundance, they gave the nameof Strawberry Island. Directly beyond were three small islands, and inthe meadow to the right, at some distance from the hills in thebackground was a single perpendicular rock, which they judged to be noless than eight hundred feet high and four hundred yards at the base, which they called Beacon Rock. A little farther on they found the rivera mile in breadth, and double this breadth four miles beyond. Aftermaking twenty-nine miles from the foot of the Great Shoot, they haltedfor the night at a point where the river was two and a half miles wide. The character of the country they had passed through during the day wasvery different from that they had lately been accustomed to, the hillsbeing thickly covered with timber, chiefly of the pine species. The tiderose at their encampment about nine inches, and they saw great numbersof water-fowl, such as swan, geese, ducks of various kinds, gulls, etc. 

The next day, _November 3d_, they set off in company with some Indianswho had joined them the evening before. At the distance of three milesthey passed a river on the left, to which, from the quantity of sand itbears along with it, they gave the name of Quicksand River. So great, indeed, was the quantity it had discharged into the Columbia, that theriver was compressed to the width of half a mile, and the whole force ofthe current thrown against the right shore. Opposite this was a largecreek, which they called Seal River. The mountain which they hadsupposed to be the Mount Hood of Vancouver, now bore S. 85° E. , aboutforty-seven miles distant. About three miles farther on they passed thelower mouth of Quicksand River, opposite to which was another largecreek, and near it the head of an island three miles and a half inextent; and half a mile beyond it was another island, which they calledDiamond Island, opposite to which they encamped, having made butthirteen miles' distance. Here they met with some Indians ascending theriver, who stated that they had seen three vessels at its mouth. 

"Below Quicksand River, " says the Journal, "the country is low, rich, and thickly wooded on each side of the Columbia; the islands have lesstimber, and on them are numerous ponds, near which were vast quantitiesof fowl, such as swan, geese, brant, cranes, storks, white-gulls, cormorants, and plover. The river is wide and contains a great number ofsea-otters. In the evening the hunters brought in game for a sumptuoussupper. "

In continuing their descent the next day, they found Diamond Island tobe six miles in length and three broad; and near its termination weretwo other islands. "Just below the last of these, " proceeds thenarrative, "we landed on the left bank of the river, at a village oftwenty-five houses, all of which were thatched with straw, and built ofbark except one, which was about fifty feet long and constructed ofboards, in the form of those higher up the river, from which itdiffered, however, in being completely above ground, and covered withbroad, split boards. This village contained about two hundred men of theSkilloot nation, who seemed well provided with canoes, of which therewere at least fifty-two, and some of them very large, drawn up in frontof the village. On landing, we found an Indian from above, who had leftus this morning, and who now invited us into a lodge of which heappeared to be part owner. Here he treated us with a root, round inshape and about the size of a small Irish potato, which they call_wappatoo_: it is the common arrow-head or _sagittifolia_ so muchcultivated by the Chinese, and, when roasted in the embers till itbecomes soft, has an agreeable taste, and is a very good substitute forbread. After purchasing some of this root we resumed our journey, and atseven miles' distance came to the head of a large island near the leftbank. On the right shore was a fine open prairie for about a mile, backof which the country rises, and is well supplied with timber, such aswhite oak, pine of different kinds, wild crab, and several species ofundergrowth, while along the borders of the river there were only a fewcottonwood and ash trees. In this prairie were also signs of deer andelk. 

"When we landed for dinner a number of Indians came down, for thepurpose, as we supposed, of paying us a friendly visit, as they had puton their finest dresses. In addition to their usual covering, they hadscarlet and blue blankets, sailor's jackets and trowsers, shirts, andhats. They had all of them either war-axes, spears, and bows and arrows, or muskets and pistols, with tin powder-flasks. We smoked with them, andendeavoured to show them every attention, but soon found them veryassuming and disagreeable companions. While we were eating, they stolethe pipe with which they were smoking, and a great coat of one of themen. We immediately searched them all, and found the coat stuffed underthe root of a tree near where they were sitting; but the pipe we couldnot recover. Finding us discontented with them, and determined not tosuffer any imposition, they showed their displeasure in the only waythey dared, by returning in ill humour to their village. We thenproceeded, and soon met two canoes, with twelve men of the same Skillootnation, who were on their way from below. The larger of the canoes wasornamented with the figures of a bear in the bow and a man in the stern, both nearly as large as life, both made of painted wood, and very neatlyfastened to the boat. In the same canoe were two Indians gaudilydressed, and with round hats. This circumstance induced us to give thename of Image Canoe to the large island, the lower end of which we werenow passing, at the distance of nine miles from its head. We had seentwo smaller islands to the right, and three more near its lowerextremity. " ... "The river was now about a mile and a half in width, with a gentle current, and the bottoms extensive and low, but notsubject to be overflowed. Three miles below Image Canoe Island we cameto four large houses on the left side; here we had a full view of themountain which we had first seen from the Muscleshell Rapid on the 19thof October, and which we now found to be, in fact, the Mount St. Helenof Vancouver. It bore north 25° east, about ninety miles distant, rosein the form of a sugar loaf to a very great height, and was covered withsnow. A mile lower we passed a single house on the left, and another onthe right. The Indians had now learned so much of us that theircuriosity was without any mixture of fear, and their visits became veryfrequent and troublesome. We therefore continued on till after night, inhopes of getting rid of them; but, after passing a village on each side, which, on account of the lateness of the hour, we could only seeindistinctly, we found there was no escaping from their importunities. We accordingly landed at the distance of seven miles below Image CanoeIsland, and encamped near a single house on the right, having madeduring the day twenty-nine miles. 

"The Skilloots that we passed to-day speak a language somewhat differentfrom that of the Echeloots or Chilluckittequaws near the long narrows. Their dress, however, is similar, except that the Skilloots possess morearticles procured from the white traders; and there is this fartherdifference between them, that the Skilloots, both males and females, have the head flattened. Their principal food is fish, _wappatoo_ roots, and some elk and deer, in killing which, with arrows they seem to bevery expert; for during the short time we remained at the village threedeer were brought in. We also observed there a tame _blaireau_[badger]. "

"As soon as we landed we were visited by two canoes loaded with Indians, from whom we purchased a few roots. The grounds along the rivercontinued low and rich, and among the shrubs were large quantities ofvines resembling the raspberry. On the right the low grounds wereterminated at the distance of five miles by a range of high hillscovered with tall timber, and running southeast and northwest. The game, as usual, was very abundant; and, among other birds, we observed somewhite geese, with a part of their wings black. "

Early the next morning they resumed their voyage, passing severalislands in the course of the day, the river alternately widening andcontracting, and the hills sometimes retiring from, and at othersapproaching, its banks. They stopped for the night at the distance ofthirty-two miles from their last encampment. "Before landing, " proceedsthe Journal, "we met two canoes, the largest of which had at the bow theimage of a bear, and that of a man on the stern: there were twenty-sixIndians on board, but they proceeded upwards, and we were left, for thefirst time since we reached the waters of the Columbia, without any ofthe natives with us during the night. Besides other game, we killed agrouse much larger than the common kind, and observed along the shore anumber of striped snakes. The river is here deep, and about a mile and ahalf in width. Here, too, the ridge of low mountains, running northwestand southeast, crosses the river and forms the western boundary of theplain through which we had just passed. This great plain or valleybegins above the mouth of Quicksand River, and is about sixty miles longin a straight line, while on the right and left it extends to a greatdistance; it is a fertile and delightful country, shaded by thick grovesof tall timber, and watered by small ponds on both sides of the river. The soil is rich and capable of any species of culture; but in thepresent condition of the Indians, its chief production is the _wappatoo_root, which grows spontaneously and exclusively in this region. Sheltered as it is on both sides, the temperature is much milder thanthat of the surrounding country; for even at this season of the year weobserved but very little appearance of frost. It is inhabited bynumerous tribes of Indians, who either reside in it permanently, orvisits its waters in quest of fish and _wappatoo_ roots. We gave it thename of the Columbia Valley. "

"_November 6. _ The morning was cool and rainy. We proceeded at an earlyhour between high hills on both sides of the river, till at the distanceof four miles we came to two tents of Indians in a small plain on theleft, where the hills on the right recede a few miles, and a long, narrow inland stretches along the right shore. Behind this island is themouth of a large river, a hundred and fifty yards wide, called by theIndians Coweliske. We halted on the island for dinner, but the redwoodand green briers were so interwoven with the pine, alder, ash, a speciesof beech, and other trees, that the woods formed a thicket which ourhunters could not penetrate. Below the mouth of the Coweliske a veryremarkable knob rises from the water's edge to the height of eightyfeet, being two hundred paces round the base; and as it is in a low partof the island, and at some distance from the high grounds, itsappearance is very singular. On setting out after dinner we overtook twocanoes going down to trade. One of the Indians, who spoke a few words ofEnglish, mentioned that the principal person who traded with them was aMr. Haley; and he showed us a bow of iron and several other things, which he said he had given him. Nine miles below Coweliske River is acreek on the same side; and between them three smaller islands, one onthe left shore, the other about the middle of the river, and a thirdnear, the lower end of the long, narrow island, and opposite a highcliff of black rocks on the left, sixteen miles from our last night'sencampment. Here we were overtaken by some Indians from the two tents wehad passed in the morning, from whom we purchased _wappatoo_ roots, salmon, trout, and two beaver-skins, for which last we gave five smallfish-hooks. "

Here the mountains which had been high and rugged on the left, retiredfrom the river, as had the hills on the right, since leaving theCoweliske, and a beautiful plain was spread out before them. They metwith several islands on their way, and having at the distance of fivemiles come to the termination of the plain, they proceeded for eightmiles through a hilly country, and encamped for the night after havingmade twenty-nine miles. 

"_November 7. _ The morning, " proceeds the narrative, "was rainy, and thefog so thick that we could not see across the river. We observed, however, opposite to our camp, the upper point of an island, betweenwhich and the steep hills on the right we proceeded for five miles. Three miles lower was the beginning of an island, separated from theright shore by a narrow channel: down this we proceeded under thedirection of some Indians whom we had just met going up the river, andwho returned in order to show us their village. It consisted of fourhouses only, situated on this channel, behind several marshy islandsformed by two small creeks. On our arrival they gave us some fish, andwe afterwards purchased _wappatoo_ roots, fish, three dogs, and twootter-skins, for which we gave fish-hooks chiefly, that being an articlewhich they are very anxious to obtain. 

"These people seemed to be of a different nation from those we had justpassed: they were low in stature, ill-shaped, and all had their headsflattened. They called themselves Wahkiacum, and their language differedfrom that of the tribes above, with whom they trade for _wappatoo_roots. The houses, too, were built in a different style, being raisedentirely above ground, with the eaves about five feet high, and the doorat the corner. Near the end opposite to the door was a single fireplace, round which were the beds, raised four feet from the floor of earth;over the fire were hung fresh fish, and when dried they are stowed awaywith the _wappatoo_ roots under the beds. The dress of the men was likethat of the people above; but the women were clad in a peculiar manner, the robe not reaching lower than the hip, and the body being covered incold weather by a sort of corset of fur, curiously plaited, andreaching from the arms to the hip: added to this was a sort ofpetticoat, or, rather, tissue of white cedar bark, bruised or brokeninto small strands and woven into a girdle by several cords of the samematerial. Being tied round the middle, these strands hang down as low asthe knee in front and to the middle of the leg behind: sometimes thetissue consists of strings of silk-grass, twisted and knotted at theend. 

"After remaining with them about an hour, we proceeded down the channelwith an Indian dressed in a sailor's jacket for our pilot; and, onreaching the main channel, were visited by some Indians, who have atemporary residence on a marshy island, Tenasillihee, in the middle ofthe river, where there are great numbers of water-fowl. Here themountainous country again approaches the river on the left, and a highersaddle mountain is perceived towards the southwest. At a distance oftwenty miles from our camp we halted at a village of Wahkiacums, consisting of seven ill-looking houses, built in the same form withthose above, and situated at the foot of the high hills on the right, behind two small marshy islands. We merely stopped to purchase some foodand two beaver skins, and then proceeded. Opposite to these islands thehills on the left retire, and the river widens into a kind of bay, crowded with low islands, subject to be overflowed occasionally by thetide. We had not gone far from this village when, the fog suddenlyclearing away, we were at last presented with a glorious sight of theocean--that ocean, the object of all our labours, the reward of all ouranxieties. This animating sight exhilarated the spirits of all theparty, who were still more delighted on hearing the distant roar of thebreakers. We went on with great cheerfulness along the high mountainouscountry which bordered the right bank: the shore, however, was so boldand rocky that we could not, until a distance of fourteen miles from thelast village, find any spot fit for an encampment. Having made duringthe day thirty-four miles, we now spread our mats on the ground, andpassed the night in the rain. Here we were joined by our small canoe, which had been separated from us during the fog this morning. TwoIndians from the last village also accompanied us to the camp; buthaving detected them in stealing a knife, they were sent off. 

"_November 8. _ It rained this morning; and, having changed our clothing, which had been wet by yesterday's rain, we set out at nine o'clock. Immediately opposite our camp was a pillar rock, at the distance of amile in the river, about twenty feet in diameter and fifty in height, and towards the southwest some high mountains, one of which was coveredwith snow at the top. We proceeded past several low islands in the bendor bay of the river to the left, which were here five or six mileswide. On the right side we passed an old village, and then, at thedistance of three miles, entered an inlet or niche, about six milesacross, and making a deep bend of nearly five miles into the hills onthe right shore, where it receives the waters of several creeks. Wecoasted along this inlet, which, from its little depth, we calledShallow Bay, and at the bottom of it stopped to dine, near the remainsof an old village, from which, however, we kept at a cautious distance, as, like all these places, it was occupied by a plentiful stock offleas. At this place we observed a number of fowl, among which we killeda goose and two ducks exactly resembling in appearance and flavour thecanvas-back duck of the Susquehanna. After dinner we took advantage ofthe returning tide to go about three miles to a point on the right, eight miles distant from our camp; but here the water ran so high andwashed about our canoe so much that several of the men became seasick. It was therefore judged imprudent to proceed in the present state of theweather, and we landed at the point. Our situation here was extremelyuncomfortable: the high hills jutted in so closely that there was notroom for us to lie level, nor to secure our baggage from the tide, andthe water of the river was too salty to be used; but the wavesincreasing so much that we could not move from the spot with safety, wefixed ourselves on the beach left by the ebb-tide, and, raising thebaggage on poles, passed a disagreeable night, the rain during the dayhaving wet us completely, as, indeed, we had been for some time past. 

"_November 9. _ Fortunately, the tide did not rise as high as our campduring the night; but, being accompanied by high winds from the south, the canoes, which we could not place beyond its reach, were filled withwater and saved with much difficulty: our position was exceedinglydisagreeable; but, as it was impossible to move from it, we waited for achange of weather. It rained, however, during the whole day, and at twoo'clock in the afternoon the flood-tide came in, accompanied by a highwind from the south, which at about four o'clock shifted to thesouthwest, and blew almost a gale directly from the sea. Immense wavesnow broke over the place where we were and large trees, some of themfive or six feet through, which had been lodged on the point, driftedover our camp, so that the utmost vigilance of every man could scarcelysave the canoes from being crushed to pieces. We remained in the waterand were drenched with rain during the rest of the day, our onlysustenance being some dried fish and the rain water which we caught. Yet, though wet and cold, and some of then sick from using salt water, the men were cheerful and full of anxiety to see more of the ocean. Therain continued all night and the following morning. 

"_November 10_, the wind lulling and the waves not being so high, weloaded our canoes and proceeded. The mountains on the right are herehigh, covered with timber, chiefly pine, and descend with a bold androcky shore to the water. We went through a deep niche and severalinlets on the right, while on the opposite side was a large bay, abovewhich the hills are close on the river. At the distance of ten miles thewind rose from the northwest, and the waves became so high that we wereforced to return two miles for a place where we could unload withsafety. Here we landed at the mouth of a small run, and, having placedour baggage on a pile of drifted logs, waited until low water. The riverthen appearing more calm, we started again; but, after going a mile, found the waters too turbulent for our canoes, and were obliged to putto shore. Here we landed the baggage, and, having placed it on a rockabove the reach of the tide, encamped on some drift logs, which formedthe only place where we could lie, the hills rising steep over our headsto the height of five hundred feet. All our baggage, as well asourselves, was thoroughly wet with rain, which did not cease during theday; it continued, indeed, violently through the night, in the course ofwhich the tide reached the logs on which we lay, and set them afloat. 

"_November 11. _ The wind was still high from the southwest, and drovethe waves against the shore with great fury; the rain, too, fell intorrents, and not only drenched us to the skin, but loosened the stoneson the hillsides, so that they came rolling down upon us. In thiscomfortless condition we remained all day, wet and cold, and withnothing but dried fish to satisfy our hunger; the canoes at the mercy ofthe waves at one place, the baggage in another, and the men scattered onfloating logs, or sheltering themselves in the crevices of the rocks andhillsides. A hunter was despatched in the hope of finding some game; butthe hills were so steep, and so covered with undergrowth and fallentimber, that he could not proceed, and was forced to return. Abouttwelve o'clock we were visited by five Indians in a canoe. They camefrom the opposite side of the river, above where we were, and theirlanguage much resembled that of the Wahkiacums: they calling themselvesCathlamahs. In person they were small, ill-made, and badly clothed;though one of them had on a sailor's jacket and pantaloons, which, as heexplained by signs, he had received from the whites below the point. Wepurchased from them thirteen red charr, a fish which we found veryexcellent. After some time they went on board their boat and crossed theriver, which is here five miles wide, through a very heavy sea. 

"_November 12. _ About three o'clock a tremendous gale of wind arose, accompanied with lightning, thunder, and hail; at six it lightened upfor a short time, but a violent rain soon began and lasted through theday. During the storm one of our boats, secured by being sunk with greatquantities of stone, got loose, but, drifting against a rock, wasrecovered without having received much injury. Our situation now becamemuch more dangerous, for the waves were driven with fury against therocks and trees, which till now had afforded us refuge: we thereforetook advantage of the low tide, and moved about half a mile round apoint to a small brook, which we had not observed before on account ofthe thick bushes and driftwood which concealed its mouth. Here we weremore safe, but still cold and wet; our clothes and bedding rotten aswell as wet, our baggage at a distance, and the canoes, our only meansof escape from this place, at the mercy of the waves. Still, wecontinued to enjoy good health, and even had the luxury of feasting onsome salmon and three salmon trout which we caught in the brook. Threeof the men attempted to go round a point in our small Indian canoe, butthe high waves rendered her quite unmanageable, these boats requiringthe seamanship of the natives to make them live in so rough a sea. 

"_November 13. _ During the night we had short intervals of fair weather, but it began to rain in the morning and continued through the day. Inorder to obtain a view of the country below, Captain Clarke followed thecourse of the brook, and with much fatigue, and after walking threemiles, ascended the first spur of the mountains. The whole lower countryhe found covered with almost impenetrable thickets of small pine, withwhich is mixed a species of plant resembling arrow-wood, twelve orfifteen feet high, with thorny stems, almost interwoven with each other, and scattered among the fern and fallen timber: there is also a redberry, somewhat like the Solomon's seal, which is called by the natives_solme_, and used as an article of diet. This thick growth renderedtravelling almost impossible, and it was rendered still more fatiguingby the abruptness of the mountain, which was so steep as to oblige himto draw himself up by means of the bushes. The timber on the hills ischiefly of a large, tall species of pine, many of the trees eight or tenfeet in diameter at the stump, and rising sometimes more than onehundred feet in height. The hail which fell two nights before was stillto be seen on the mountains; there was no game, and no marks of any, except some old tracks of elk. The cloudy weather prevented his seeingto any distance, and he therefore returned to camp and sent three men inan Indian canoe to try if they could double the point and find somesafer harbour for our boats. At every flood-tide the sea broke in greatswells against the rocks and drifted the trees against ourestablishment, so as to render it very insecure. 

"_November 14. _ It had rained without intermission during the night andcontinued to through the day; the wind, too, was very high, and one ofour canoes much injured by being driven against the rocks. Five Indiansfrom below came to us in a canoe, and three of them landed, and informedus that they had seen the men sent down yesterday. Fortunately, at thismoment one of the men arrived, and told us that these very Indians hadstolen his gig and basket; we therefore ordered the two women, whoremained in the canoe, to restore them; but this they refused to do tillwe threatened to shoot them, when they gave back the articles, and wecommanded them to leave us. They were of the Wahkiacum nation. The mannow informed us that they had gone round the point as far as the highsea would suffer them in the canoe, and then landed; that in the nighthe had separated from his companions, who had proceeded farther down;and that, at no great distance from where we were, was a beautiful sandbeach and a good harbour. Captain Lewis determined to examine moreminutely the lower part of the bay, and, embarking in one of the largecanoes, was put on shore at the point, whence he proceeded by land withfour men, and the canoe returned nearly filled with water. 

"_November 15. _ It continued raining all night, but in the morning theweather became calm and fair. We began, therefore, to prepare forsetting out; but before we were ready a high wind sprang up from thesoutheast, and obliged us to remain. The sun shone until one o'clock, and we were thus enabled to dry our bedding and examine our baggage. Therain, which had continued for the last ten days without any interval ofmore than two hours, had completely wet all our merchandise, spoiledsome of our fish, destroyed the robes, and rotted nearly one-half of ourfew remaining articles of clothing, particularly the leather dresses. About three o'clock the wind fell, and we instantly loaded the canoes, and left the miserable spot to which we had been confined the last sixdays. On turning the point we came to the sand beach, through which runsa small stream from the hills, at the mouth of which was an ancientvillage of thirty-six houses, without any inhabitants at the time exceptfleas. Here we met Shannon, who had been sent back to us by CaptainLewis. The day Shannon left us in the canoe, he and Willard proceeded ontill they met a party of twenty Indians, who, not having heard of us, did not know who they were; but they behaved with great civility--sogreat, indeed, and seemed so anxious that our men should accompany themtowards the sea, that their suspicions were aroused, and they declinedgoing. The Indians, however, would not leave them; and the men, becomingconfirmed in their suspicions, and fearful, if they went into the woodsto sleep, that they would be cut to pieces in the night, thought it bestto remain with the Indians: they therefore made a fire, and aftertalking with them to a late hour, laid down with their rifles undertheir heads. When they awoke they found that the Indians had stolen andconcealed their arms; and having demanded them in vain, Shannon seized aclub, and was about assaulting one of the Indians whom he suspected tobe the thief, when another of them began to load his fowling-piece withthe intention of shooting him. He therefore stopped, and explained tothem by signs, that if they did not give up the guns, a large partywould come down the river before the sun rose to a certain height, andput every one of them to death. Fortunately, Captain Lewis and his partyappeared at this very time, and the terrified Indians immediatelybrought the guns, and five of them came in with Shannon. To these men wedeclared that, if ever any of their nation stole anything from us, hewould be instantly shot. They resided to the north of this place, andspoke a language different from that of the people higher up the river. It was now apparent that the sea was at all times too rough for us toproceed farther down the bay by water: we therefore landed, and, havingchosen the best spot we could, made our camp of boards from the oldvillage. We were now comfortably situated; and, being visited by fourWahkiacums with _wappatoo_ roots, were enabled to make an agreeableaddition to our food. 

"_November 16. _ The morning was clear and pleasant. We therefore put outall our baggage to dry, and sent several of our party to hunt. Our campwas in full view of the ocean, on the bay laid down by Vancouver, whichwe distinguished by the name of Haley's Bay, from a trader who visitsthe Indians here, and is a great favourite among them. The meridianaltitude of this day gave 46° 19´ 11. 7" as our latitude. The wind wasstrong from the southwest, and the waves were very high, yet the Indianswere passing up and down the bay in canoes, and several of them encampednear us. We smoked with them, but, after our recent experience of theirthievish disposition, treated them with caution.... "

"The hunters brought in two deer, a crane, some geese and ducks, andseveral brant, three of which were white, except a part of the wing, which was black, and they were much larger than the gray brant. 

"_November 17. _ A fair, cool morning, and easterly wind. The tide risesat this place eight feet six inches. 

"About one o'clock Captain Lewis returned, after having coasted downHaley's Bay to Cape Disappointment, and some distance to the north, along the seacoast. He was followed by several Chinnooks, among whomwere the principal chief and his family. They made us a present of aboiled root very much like the common licorice in taste and size, called_culwhamo_; and in return we gave them articles of double its value. Wenow learned, however, the danger of accepting anything from them, sincenothing given in payment, even though ten times more valuable, wouldsatisfy them. We were chiefly occupied in hunting, and were able toprocure three deer, four brant, and two ducks; and also saw some signsof elk. Captain Clarke now prepared for an excursion down the bay, andaccordingly started. 

"_November 18_, at daylight, accompanied by eleven men, he proceededalong the beach one mile to a point of rocks about forty feet high, where the hills retired, leaving a wide beach and a number of pondscovered with water-fowl, between which and the mountain there was anarrow bottom covered with alder and small balsam trees. Seven milesfrom the rocks was the entrance from the creek, or rather drain from thepond and hills, where was a cabin of Chinnooks. The cabin contained somechildren and four women. They were taken across the creek in a canoe bytwo squaws, to each of whom they gave a fish-hook, and then, coastingalong the bay, passed at two miles the low bluff of a small hill, belowwhich were, the ruins of some old huts, and close to it the remains of awhale. The country was low, open, and marshy, interspersed with somehigh pine and with a thick undergrowth. Five miles from the creek, theycame to a stream, forty yards wide at low water, which they calledChinnook River. The hills up this river and towards the bay were nothigh, but very thickly covered with large pine of several species. "

Proceeding along the shore, they came to a deep bend, appearing toafford a good harbour, and here the natives told them that Europeanvessels usually anchored. About two miles farther on they reached CapeDisappointment, "an elevated circular knob, " says the Journal, "risingwith a steep ascent one hundred and fifty or one hundred and sixty feetabove the water, formed like the whole shore of the bay, as well as ofthe seacoast, and covered with thick timber on the inner side, but openand grassy on the exposure next the sea. From this cape a high point ofland bears south 20° west, about twenty-five miles distant. In the rangebetween these two eminences is the opposite point of the bay, a very lowground, which has been variously called Cape Rond by Le Perouse, andPoint Adams by Vancouver. The water, for a great distance off the mouthof the river, appears very shallow, and within the mouth, nearest toPoint Adams, is a large sand-bar, almost covered at high tide.... "

"_November 19. _ In the evening it began to rain, and continued untileleven o'clock. Two hunters were sent out in the morning to killsomething for breakfast, and the rest of the party, after drying theirblankets, soon followed. At three miles they overtook the hunters, andbreakfasted on a small deer which they had been fortunate enough tokill. This, like all those that we saw on the coast, was much darkerthan our common deer. Their bodies, too, are deeper, their legsshorter, and their eyes larger. The branches of the horns are similar, but the upper part of the tail is black, from the root to the end, andthey do not leap, but jump like a sheep frightened. 

"Continuing along five miles farther, they reached a point of high land, below which a sandy point extended in a direction north 19° west toanother high point twenty miles distant. To this they gave the name ofPoint Lewis. They proceeded four miles farther along the sandy beach toa small pine tree, on which Captain Clarke marked his name, with theyear and day, and then set out to return to the camp, where they arrivedthe following day, having met a large party of Chinnooks coming from it. 

"_November 21. _ The morning was cloudy, and from noon till night itrained. The wind, too, was high from the southeast, and the sea so roughthat the water reached our camp. Most of the Chinnooks returned home, but we were visited in the course of the day by people of differentbands in the neighbourhood, among whom were the Chiltz, a nationresiding on the seacoast near Point Lewis, and the Clatsops, who liveimmediately opposite, on the south side of the Columbia. A chief fromthe grand rapid also came to see us, and we gave him a medal. To each ofour visitors we made a present of a small piece of riband, and purchasedsome cranberries, and some articles of their manufacture, such as matsand household furniture, for all of which we paid high prices. "

THE SOURCES OF THE MISSISSIPPI

BRIGADIER-GENERAL ZEBULON M. PIKE

 [During the years 1805, 1806, and 1807 Brigadier-General Pike commanded, by order of the Government of the United States, an expedition to the sources of the Mississippi, through the western part of Louisiana, to the sources of the Arkansas, Kansas, La Platte and Pierre Juan rivers. The extracts which follow are taken from his narrative published in Philadelphia, 1810. An excellent edition, edited with copious notes by Elliott Coues, was published in three volumes by Francis P. Harper, New York, 1895. ]

_January 1, 1806. _ Passed six very elegant bark canoes on the bank ofthe river, which had been laid up by the Chipeways; also a camp which wehad conceived to have been evacuated about ten days. My interpreter cameafter me in a great hurry, conjuring me not to go so far ahead, andassured me that the Chipeways, encountering me without an interpreter, party, or flag, would certainly kill me. But, notwithstanding this, Iwent on several miles farther than usual, in order to make anydiscoveries that were to be made; conceiving the savages not sobarbarous or ferocious as to fire on two men (I had one with me) whowere apparently coming into their country, trusting to their generosity;and knowing, that if we met only two or three we were equal to them, Ihaving my gun and pistols and he his buckshot. Made some extra presentsfor New Year's day. 

_January 2. _ Fine, warm day. Discovered fresh signs of Indians. Just aswe were encamping at night, my sentinel informed us that some Indianswere coming at full speed upon our trail or track. I ordered my men tostand by their guns carefully. They were immediately at my camp, andsaluted the flag by a discharge of three pieces, when four Chipeways, one Englishman, and a Frenchman of the North West Company presentedthemselves. They informed us that some women having discovered our trailgave the alarm, and not knowing but it was their enemies had departed tomake a discovery. They had heard of us, and revered our flag. Mr. Grant, the Englishman, had only arrived the day before from Lake de Sable, fromwhich he marched in one day and a half. I presented the Indians withhalf a deer, which they received thankfully, for they had discovered ourfires some days ago, and believing them to be Sioux fires, they darednot leave their camp. They returned home, but Mr. Grant remained allnight. 

_January 3. _ My party marched early, but I returned with Mr. Grant tohis establishment on the Red Cedar Lake, having one corporal withme.... After explaining to a Chipeway warrior, called Curly Head, theobject of my voyage, and receiving his answer that he would remaintranquil until my return, we ate a good breakfast for the country, departed and overtook my sleds just at dusk. Killed one porcupine. Distance sixteen miles. 

_January 4. _ We made twenty-eight points in the river; broad, goodbottom, and of the usual timber. In the night I was awakened by the cryof the sentinel, calling repeatedly to the men; at length hevociferated, "Will you let the lieutenant be burned to death?" Thisimmediately aroused me; at first I seized my arms, but looking round, Isaw my tents in flames. The men flew to my assistance, and we tore themdown, but not until they were entirely ruined. This, with the loss of myleggins, moccasins, and socks, which I had hung up to dry, was notrivial misfortune in such a country and on such a voyage. But I hadreason to thank God that the powder, three small casks of which I had inmy tent, did not take fire; if it had, I must certainly have lost all mybaggage, if not my life. 

_January 5. _ Mr. Grant promised to overtake me yesterday, but has notyet arrived. I conceived it would be necessary to attend his motionswith careful observation. Distance twenty-seven miles. 

_January 6. _ Bradley and myself walked up thirty-one points in hopes todiscover Lake de Sable; but finding a near cut of twenty yards for tenmiles, and being fearful the sleds would miss it, we returnedtwenty-three points before we found our camp. They had made only eightpoints. Met two Frenchmen of the North West Company with about onehundred and eighty pounds on each of their backs, with rackets[snowshoes] on; they informed me that Mr. Grant had gone on with theFrenchmen. Snow fell all day, and was three feet deep. Spent a miserablenight. 

_January 7. _ Made but eleven miles, and was then obliged to send aheadand make fires every three miles; notwithstanding which, the cold was sointense that some of the men had their noses, others their fingers, andothers their toes, frozen, before they felt the cold sensibly. Verysevere day's march. 

_January 8. _ Conceiving I was at no great distance from Sandy Lake, Ileft my sleds and with Corporal Bradley took my departure for thatplace, intending to send him back the same evening. We walked on verybriskly until near night, when we met a young Indian, one of those whohad visited my camp near Red Cedar Lake. I endeavoured to explain to himthat it was my wish to go to Lake de Sable that evening. He returnedwith me until we came to a trail that led across the woods; this hesignified was a near course. I went this course with him, and shortlyafter found myself at a Chipeway encampment, to which I believed thefriendly savage had enticed me with the expectation that I would tarryall night, knowing that it was too late for us to make the lake in goodseason. But upon our refusing to stay, he put us in the right road. Wearrived at the place where the track left the Mississippi at dusk, whenwe traversed about two leagues of a wilderness without any very greatdifficulty, and at length struck the shore of Lake de Sable, over abranch of which lay our course. The snow having covered the trail madeby the Frenchmen who had passed before us with the rackets, I wasfearful of losing ourselves on the lake; the consequences of which canonly be conceived by those who have been exposed on a lake or nakedplain, in a dreary night of January, in latitude 47°, and thethermometer below zero. Thinking that we could observe the bank of theother shore, we kept a straight course, and some time after discoveredlights, and on our arrival were not a little surprised to find a largestockade. The gate being open, we entered and proceeded to the quartersof Mr. Grant, where we were treated with the utmost hospitality. 

_January 9. _ Sent away the corporal early, in order that our men shouldreceive assurances of our safety and success. He carried with him, asmall keg of spirits, a present from Mr. Grant. The establishment ofthis place was formed twelve years since by the North West Company, andwas formerly under the charge of Mr. Charles Brusky. It has attained atpresent such regularity as to permit the superintendent to livetolerably comfortably. They have horses they procure from Red River fromthe Indians; they raise plenty of potatoes, catch pike, suckers, pickerel, and white fish in abundance. They have also beaver, deer, andmoose; but the provision they chiefly depend upon is wild oats, ofwhich they purchase great quantities from the savages, giving at therate of about one dollar and a half a bushel. But flour, pork, and saltare almost interdicted to persons not principals in the trade. Floursells at half a dollar, salt at a dollar, pork at eighty cents, sugar atfifty cents, and tea at four dollars and a half a pound. The sugar isobtained from the Indians, and is made from the maple tree. 

_January 10. _ Mr. Grant accompanied me to the Mississippi, to mark theplace for my boats to leave the river. This was the first time I marchedon rackets [snowshoes]. I took the course of the Lake River, from itsmouth to the lake. Mr. Grant fell through the ice with his rackets on, and could not have got out without assistance. 

_January 11. _ Remained all day within quarters. 

_January 12. _ Went out and met my men about sixteen miles. A tree hadfallen on one of them and hurt him very much, which induced me todismiss a sled and put the loading on the others. 

_January 13. _ After encountering much difficulty we arrived at theestablishment of the North West Company on Lake de Sable a little beforenight. The ice being very bad on the Lake River, owing to the manysprings and marshes, one sled fell through. My men had an excellent roomfurnished them, and were presented with potatoes and spirits. Mr. Granthad gone to an Indian lodge to receive his credits. 

_January 14. _ Crossed the lake to the north side, that I might take anobservation; found the latitude 46° 9´ 20" N. Surveyed that part of thelake. Mr. Grant returned from the Indian lodges. His party brought aquantity of furs and eleven beaver carcasses. 

_January 15. _ Mr. Grant and myself made the tour of the lake with twomen whom I had for attendants. Found it to be much larger than could beimagined at a view. My men sawed stocks for the sleds, which I found itnecessary to construct after the manner of the country. On our march, met an Indian coming into the fort; his countenance expressed no littleastonishment when I told him who I was and whence I came, for the peopleof this country acknowledge that the savages hold the Americans ingreater veneration than any other white people. They say of us, whenalluding to warlike achievements, that "we are neither Frenchmen norEnglishmen, but white Indians. "

_January 16. _ Laid down Lake de Sable. A young Indian whom I had engagedto go as a guide to Lake Sang Sue arrived from the woods. 

_January 17. _ Employed in making sleds after the manner of the country. They are made of a single plank turned up at one end like a fiddle head, and the baggage is lashed on in bags and sacks. Two other Indiansarrived from the woods. Engaged in writing. 

_January 18. _ Busy in preparing my baggage for my departure for LeechLake and Reading. 

_January 19. _ Employed as yesterday. Two men of the North West Companyarrived from the Fond du Lac Superior with letters; one of which wasfrom their establishment in Athapuscow, and had been since last May onthe route. While at this post I ate roasted beavers, dressed in everyrespect as a pig is usually dressed with us; it was excellent. I couldnot discern the least taste of Des Bois. I also ate boiled moose's head, which when well boiled I consider equal to the tail of the beaver; intaste and substance they are much alike. 

_January 20. _ The men, with their sleds, took their departure about twoo'clock. Shortly after I followed them. We encamped at the portagebetween the Mississippi and Leech Lake River. Snow fell in the night. 

_January 21. _ Snowed in the morning, but crossed about 9 o'clock. I hadgone on a few points when I was overtaken by Mr. Grant, who informed methat the sleds could not get along in consequence of water being on theice; he sent his men forward; we returned and met the sleds, which hadscarcely advanced one mile. We unloaded them, sent eight men back to thepost, with whatever might be denominated extra articles, but in thehurry sent my salt and ink. Mr. Grant encamped with me and marched earlyin the morning. 

_January 22. _ Made a pretty good day's journey. My Indian came up aboutnoon. Distance twenty miles. 

_January 23. _ Marched about eighteen miles. Forgot my thermometer, having hung it on a tree. Sent Boley back five miles for it. My youngIndian and myself killed eight partridges; took him to live with me. 

_January 24. _ At our encampment this night Mr. Grant had encamped on thenight of the same day he left me; it was three days' march for us. Itwas late before the men came up. 

_January 25. _ Travelled almost all day through the lands and found themmuch better than usual. Boley lost the Sioux pipe-stem which I hadcarried along for the purpose of making peace with the Chipeways; I senthim back for it; he did not return until eleven o'clock at night. It wasvery warm; thawing all day. Distance forty-four points. 

_January 26. _ I left my party in order to proceed to a house, or lodge, of Mr. Grant's on the Mississippi, where he was to tarry until Iovertook him. Took with me an Indian, Boley, and some triflingprovision; the Indian and myself marched so fast that we left Boley onthe route, about eight miles from the lodge. Met Mr. Grant's men, ontheir return to Lake de Sable, having evacuated the house this morning, and Mr. Grant having marched for Leech Lake. The Indian and I arrivedbefore sundown. Passed the night very uncomfortably, having nothing toeat, not much wood, nor any blankets. The Indian slept sound. I cursedhis insensibility, being obliged to content myself over a few coals allnight. Boley did not arrive. In the night the Indian mentioned somethingabout his son. 

_January 27. _ My Indian rose early, mended his moccasins, then expressedby signs something about his son and the Englishmen we met yesterday. Conceiving that he wished to send some message to his family, I sufferedhim to depart. After his departure I felt the curse of solitude, although he was truly no company. Boley arrived about ten o'clock. Hesaid that he had followed us until some time in the night, when, believing that he could overtake us, he stopped and made a fire, buthaving no axe to cut wood he was near freezing. He met the Indians, whomade him signs to go on. I spent the day in putting my gun in order, andmended my moccasins. Provided plenty of wood, still found it cold, withbut one blanket. 

_January 28. _ Left our encampment at a good hour; unable to find anytrail, passed through one of the most dismal cypress swamps I ever sawand struck the Mississippi at a small lake. Observed Mr. Grant's tracksgoing through it; found his mark of a cut-off (agreed on between us);took it, and proceeded very well until we came to a small lake, wherethe trail was entirely hid, but after some search on the other side, found it, when we passed through a dismal swamp, on the other side ofwhich we found a large lake, at which I was entirely at a loss, notrail to be seen. Struck for a point about three miles off, where wefound a Chipeway lodge of one man and five children, and one old woman. They received us with every mark that distinguished their barbarity, such as setting their dogs on us, trying to thrust their hands into ourpockets, and so on, but we convinced them that we were not afraid, andlet them know that we were Chewockomen (Americans), when they used usmore civilly. After we had arranged a camp as well as possible I wentinto the lodge; they presented me with a plate of dried meat. I orderedMiller to bring about two gills of liquor, which made us all goodfriends. The old squaw gave me more meat, and offered me tobacco, which, not using, I did not take. I gave her an order upon my corporal for oneknife and half a carrot of tobacco. Heaven clothes the lilies and feedsthe raven, and the same Almighty Providence protects and preserves thesecreatures. After I had gone out to my fire, the old man came out andproposed to trade beaver skins for whiskey; meeting with a refusal heleft me; when presently the old woman came out with a beaver skin, shealso being refused, he again returned to the charge with a quantity ofdried meat (this or any other I should have been glad to have had) whenI gave him a peremptory refusal; then all further application ceased. Itreally appeared that with one quart of whiskey I might have bought allthey were possessed of. Night remarkably cold, was obliged to sit upnearly the whole of it. Suffered much with cold and from want of sleep. 

_January 31. _ Took my clothes into the Indian's lodge to dress, and wasreceived very coolly, but by giving him a dram (unasked), and his wife alittle salt, I received from them directions for my route. Passed thelake or morass, and opened on meadows (through which the Mississippiwinds its course) of nearly fifteen miles in length. Took a straightcourse through them to the head, when I found we had missed the river;made a turn of about two miles and regained it. Passed a fork which Isupposed to be Lake Winipie, making the course northwest; the branch wetook was on Leech Lake branch, course southwest and west. Passed a verylarge meadow or prairie, course west, the Mississippi only fifteen yardswide. Encamped about one mile below the traverse of the meadow. Saw avery large animal, which from its leaps I supposed to be a panther; butif so, it was twice as large as those on the lower Mississippi. Heevinced some disposition to approach. I lay down (Miller being in therear) in order to entice him to come near, but he would not. The nightremarkably cold. Some spirits, which I had in a small keg, congealed tothe consistency of honey. 

_February 1. _ Left our camp pretty early. Passed a continuous train ofprairie, and arrived at Lake Sang Sue at half-past two o'clock. I willnot attempt to describe my feelings on the accomplishment of my voyage, for this is the main source of the Mississippi. The Lake Winipie branchis navigable from thence to Red Cedar Lake for the distance of fiveleagues, which is the extremity of the navigation. Crossed the laketwelve miles to the establishment of the North West Company, where wearrived about three o'clock; found all the gates locked, but uponknocking were admitted and received with marked attention andhospitality by Mr. Hugh McGillis. Had a good dish of coffee, biscuit, butter and cheese for supper. 

_February 2. _ Remained all day within doors. In the evening sent aninvitation to Mr. Anderson, who was an agent of Dickson, and also forsome young Indians at his house, to come over and breakfast in themorning. 

_February 3. _ Spent the day in reading Volney's "Egypt, " proposing somequeries to Mr. Anderson, and preparing my young men to return with asupply of provisions to my party. 

_February 4. _ Miller departed this morning. Mr. Anderson returned to hisquarters. My legs and ankles were so much swelled that I was not able towear my own clothes, and was obliged to borrow some from Mr. McGillis. 

_February 5. _ One of Mr. McGillis's clerks had been sent to some Indianlodges, and expected to return in four days, but had now been absentnine. Mr. Grant was despatched, in order to find out what had become ofhim. 

_February 6. _ My men arrived at the fort about four o'clock. Mr. McGillis asked if I had any objection to his hoisting their flag incompliment to ours. I made none, as I had not yet explained to him myideas. In making a traverse of the lake some of my men had their ears, some their noses, and others their chins frozen. 

_February 7. _ Remained within doors, my limbs being still very muchswelled. Addressed a letter to Mr. McGillis on the subject of the NorthWest Company's trade in this quarter. 

_February 8. _ Took the latitude and found it to be 47° 16´ 13". Shotwith our rifles. 

_February 9. _ M. McGillis and myself paid a visit to Mr. Anderson, anagent of Mr. Dickson, of the lower Mississippi, who resided at the westend of the lake. Found him eligibly situated as to trade, but his housesbad. I rode in a cariole, for one person, constructed in the followingmanner: Boards planed smooth, turned up in front about two feet, comingto a point; about two and a half feet wide behind, on which is fixed abox covered with dressed skins painted; this box is open at the top, butcovered in front about two-thirds of the length. The horse is fastenedbetween the shafts. The rider wraps himself up in a buffalo robe, sitsflat down, having a cushion to lean his back against. Thus accoutredwith a fur cap, and so on, he may bid defiance to the wind and weather. Upon our return we found that some of the Indians had already returnedfrom the hunting camps; also Monsieur Roussand, the gentleman supposedto have been killed by the Indians. His arrival with Mr. Grant diffuseda general satisfaction through the fort. 

_February 10. _ Hoisted the American flag in the fort. Reading"Shenstone, " etc. 

_February 11. _ The Sweet, Buck, Burnt, and others arrived, all chiefs ofnote, but the former in particular, a venerable old man. From him Ilearned that the Sioux occupied this ground when, to use his own phrase, "He was made a man and began to hunt; that they occupied it the yearthat the French missionaries were killed at the river Pacagama. " TheIndians flocked in. 

_February 12. _ Bradley and myself with Mr. McGillis' and two of his menleft Leech Lake at 10 o'clock, and arrived at the house of Red CedarLake at sunset, a distance of thirty miles. My ankles were very muchswelled, and I was very lame. From the entrance of the Mississippi tothe strait is called six miles, a southwest course. Thence to the southend, south thirty, east four miles. The bay at the entrance extendsnearly east and west six miles. About two and a half from the north sideto a large point. This, may be called the upper source of theMississippi, being fifteen miles above little Lake Winipie, and theextent of canoe navigation only two leagues to some of the Hudson's Baywaters. 

MANILA IN 1842

LIEUTENANT CHARLES WILKES

 [During 1838-42 Lieutenant Wilkes commanded an exploring expedition which was the first ever despatched for scientific research by the United States. The instructions given by Congress to the Commander said:--"The expedition is not for conquest, but discovery. Its objects are all peaceful; they are to extend the empire of commerce and science; to diminish the hazards of the ocean, and point out to future navigators a course by which they may avoid dangers and find safety. " The narrative of the expedition was published in five volumes in Philadelphia, 1845. The extracts which follow are from Vol. V. , chapter VIII. From 1844 to 1874 the Government of the United States published twenty-eight volumes reciting in detail the scientific results of the expedition. ]

At daylight, on the 13th of January, 1842, we were again under way, witha light air, and at nine o'clock reached the roadstead, where weanchored in six fathoms of water, with good holding ground. 

A number of vessels were lying in the roads, among which were severalAmericans loading with hemp. There was also a large English EastIndiaman, manned by Lascars, whose noise rendered her more like afloating Bedlam than anything else to which I can liken it. 

The view of the city and country around Manila partakes both of aSpanish and an Oriental character. The sombre and heavy-lookingchurches with their awkward towers; the long lines of batteries mountedwith heavy cannon; the massive houses, with ranges of balconies; and thelight and airy cottages, elevated on posts, situated in the luxuriantgroves of tropical trees, --all excite desire to become better acquaintedwith the country. 

Manila is situated on an extensive plain, gradually swelling intodistant hills, beyond which, again, mountains rise in the background, tothe height of several thousand feet. The latter are apparently clothedwith vegetation to their summits. The city is in strong contrast to thisluxuriant scenery, bearing evident marks of decay, particularly in thechurches, whose steeples and tile roofs have a dilapidated look. Thesite of the city does not appear to have been well chosen, it havingapparently been selected entirely for the convenience of commerce, andthe communication that the outlet of the lake affords for the batteaux[freight boats] that transport the produce from the shores of the Lagunade Bay to the city. 

There are many arms or branches to this stream, which have beenconverted into canals; and almost any part of Manila may now be reachedin a banca [small passage boat]. 

The canal is generally filled with coasting vessels, batteaux from thelake, and lighters for the discharge of the vessels lying in the roads. The bay of Manila is safe, excepting during the change of the monsoons, when it is subject to the typhoons of the China seas, within whoserange it lies. These blow at times with much force, and cause greatdamage. Foreign vessels have, however, kept this anchorage, and rode outthese storms in safety; but native as well as Spanish vessels seek atthese times the port of Cavite, about three leagues to the southwest, atthe entrance of the bay, which is perfectly secure. Here the governmentdockyard is situated, and this harbour is consequently the resort of thefew gunboats and galleys that are stationed here. 

The entrance to the canal or river Pasig is three hundred feet wide, andis enclosed between two well-constructed piers, which extend for somedistance into the bay. On the end of one of these is the light-house, and on the other a guard-house. The walls of these piers are about fourfeet above ordinary high water, and include the natural channel of theriver, whose current sets out with some force, particularly when the ebbis making in the bay. 

The suburbs, or Binondo quarter, contain more inhabitants than the cityitself, and is the commercial town. They have all the stir and lifeincident to a large population actively engaged in trade, and in thisrespect the contrast with the city proper is great. 

The city of Manila is built in the form of a large segment of a circle, having the chord of the segment on the river: the whole is stronglyfortified with walls and ditches. The houses are substantially builtafter the fashion of the mother country. Within the walls are thegovernor's palace, custom-house, treasury, admiralty, several churches, convents, and charitable institutions, a university, and the barracksfor the troops; it also contain some public squares, on one of which isa bronze statute of Charles IV. 

The city is properly deemed the court residence of these islands; andall those attached to the government, or who wish to be considered as ofthe higher circle, reside here; but foreigners are not permitted to doso. The houses in the city are generally of stone, plastered, and whiteor yellow washed on the outside. They are only two stories high, and inconsequence cover a large space, being built around a patio orcourtyard. 

The ground floors are occupied as storehouses, stables, and for porters'lodges. The second story is devoted to the dining halls and sleepingapartments, kitchens, bath-rooms, etc. The bed-rooms have the windowsdown to the floor, opening on wide balconies, with blinds or shutters. These blinds are constructed with sliding frames, having small squaresof two inches filled in with a thin semi-transparent shell, a species ofPlacuna; the fronts of some of the houses have a large number of thesesmall lights, where the females of the family may enjoy themselvesunperceived. 

After entering the canal, we very soon found ourselves among a motleyand strange population. On landing, the attention is drawn to the vastnumber of small stalls and shops with which the streets are lined oneach side, and to the crowds of people passing to and fro, all intentupon their several occupations. The artisans in Manila are almost whollyChinese; and all trades are local, so that in each quarter of theBinondo suburb the privilege of exclusive occupancy is claimed by someparticular kinds of shops. In passing up the Escolta (which is thelongest and main street in this district), the cabinet-makers, seenbusily at work in their shops, are first met with; next to these comethe tinkers and blacksmiths; then the shoemakers, clothiers, fishmongers, haberdashers, etc. These are flanked by outdooroccupations; and in each quarter are numerous cooks frying cakes, stewing, etc. , in movable kitchens; while here and there are to be seenbetel-nut sellers, either moving about to obtain customers, or taking astand in some great thoroughfare. The moving throng, composed ofcarriers, waiters, messengers, etc. , pass quietly and without any noise:they are generally seen with the Chinese umbrella, painted of manycolours, screening themselves from the sun. The whole population wearslippers, and move along with a slip-shod gait. 

The Chinese are apparently far more numerous than the Malays, and thetwo races differ as much in character as in appearance: one is allactivity, while the other is disposed to avoid all exertion. Theypreserve their distinctive character throughout, mixing but very littlewith each other, and are removed as far as possible in their civilities;the former, from their industry and perseverance, have almostmonopolized all the lucrative employments among the lower orders, excepting the selling of fish and betel-nut, and articles manufacturedin the provinces.... 

Of all her foreign possessions, the Philippines have cost Spain theleast blood and labour. The honour of their discovery belongs toMagalhaens, whose name is associated with the straits at the southernextremity of the American continent, but which has no memorial in theseislands. Now that the glory which he gained by being the first topenetrate from the Atlantic to the Pacific has been in some measureobliterated by the disuse of those straits by navigators, it would seemdue to his memory that some spot among these islands should be set apartto commemorate the name of him who made them known to Europe. This wouldbe but common justice to the discoverer of a region which has been asource of so much honour and profit to the Spanish nation, who openedthe vast expanse of the Pacific to the fleets of Europe, and who diedfighting to secure the benefits of his enterprise to his king andcountry. 

Few portions of the globe seem to be so much the seat of internal fires, or to exhibit the effects of volcanic action so strongly as thePhilippines. During our visit, it was not known that any of thevolcanoes were in action; but many of them were smoking, particularlythat in the district of Albay, called Isaroc. Its latest eruption was inthe year 1839; but this did little damage compared with that of 1814, which covered several villages, and the country for a great distancearound, with ashes. This mountain is situated to the southeast of Manilaone hundred and fifty miles, and is said to be a perfect cone, with acrater at its apex. 

It does not appear that the islands are much affected by earthquakes, although some have occasionally occurred that have done damage to thechurches at Manila. 

The coal found in the Philippines is deemed of value; it has a strongresemblance to the bituminous coal of our own country, possesses abright lustre, and appears very free from all woody texture whenfractured. It is found associated with sandstone, which contains manyfossils. Lead and copper are reported as being very abundant; gypsum andlimestone occur in some districts. From this it will be seen that theseislands have everything in the mineral way to constitute them desirablepossessions. 

With such mineral resources and a soil capable of producing the mostvaried vegetation of the tropics, a liberal policy is all that thecountry lacks. The products of the Philippine Islands consist of sugar, coffee, hemp, indigo, rice, tortoise-shell, hides, ebony, saffron-wood, sulphur, cotton, cordage, silk, pepper, cocoa, wax, and many otherarticles. In their agricultural operations the people are industrious, although much labour is lost by the use of defective implements. Theplow, of a very simple construction, has been adopted from the Chinese;it has no coulter, the share is flat, and being turned partly to oneside, answers, in a certain degree the purpose of a mould-board. Thisrude implement is sufficient for the rich soils, where the tillagedepends chiefly upon the harrow, in constructing which a thorny speciesof bamboo is used. The harrow is formed of five or six pieces of thismaterial, on which the thorns are left, firmly fastened together. Itanswers its purpose well, and is seldom out of order. A wrought-ironharrow, that was introduced by the Jesuits, is used for clearing theground more effectually, and more particularly for the purpose ofextirpating a troublesome grass, that is known by the name of cogon (aspecies of Andropogon), of which it is very difficult to rid the fields. The bolo or long-knife, a basket, a hoe, complete the implements, andanswer all the purposes of our spades, etc. 

The buffalo was used until within a few years exclusively in theiragricultural operations, and they have lately taken to the use of theox; but horses are never used. The buffalo, from the slowness of hismotions, and his exceeding restlessness under the heat of the climate, is ill adapted to agricultural labour; but the natives are very partialto them, notwithstanding they occasion them much labour and trouble inbathing them during the great heat. This is absolutely necessary, or theanimal becomes so fretful as to be unfit for use. If it were not forthis, the buffalo would, notwithstanding his slow pace, be mosteffective in agricultural operations; he requires little food, and thatof the coarsest kind; his strength surpasses that of the stoutest ox, and he is admirably adapted for the rice or paddy fields. They are verydocile when used by the natives, and even children can manage them; butit said they have a great antipathy to the whites and all strangers. Theusual mode of guiding them is by a small cord attached to the cartilageof the nose. The yoke rests on the neck before the shoulders, and is ofsimple construction. To this is attached whatever it may be necessary todraw, either by traces, shafts, or other fastenings. Frequently theseanimals may be seen with large bundles of bamboo lashed to them on eachside. Buffaloes are to be met with on the lake with no more than theirnoses and eyes out of the water, and are not visible until they areapproached within a few feet, when they cause alarm to the passengers byraising their large forms close to the boat. It is said that they resortto the lake to feed on a favourite grass that grows on its bottom inshallow water, and which they dive for. Their flesh is not eaten, except that of the young ones, for it is tough and tasteless. The milkis nutritious, and of a character between that of the goat and cow. 

Rice is, perhaps, of their agricultural products, the article upon whichthe inhabitants of the Philippine Islands most depend for food andprofit; of this they have several different varieties, which the nativesdistinguish by their size and the shape of the grain: the birnambang, lamuyo, malagequit, bontot-cabayo, dumali, quinanda, bolohan, and tangi. The three first are aquatic, the five latter upland varieties. They eachhave their peculiar uses. The dumali is the early variety; it ripens inthree months from planting, from which circumstance it derives its name;it is raised exclusively on the uplands. Although much esteemed, it isnot extensively cultivated, as the birds and insects destroy a largepart of the crop. 

The malagequit is very much prized, and used for making sweet and fancydishes; it becomes exceedingly glutinous, for which reason it is used inmaking whitewash, which it is said to cause to become of a brilliantwhite, and to withstand the weather. This variety is not, however, believed to be wholesome. There is also a variety of this last specieswhich is used as food for horses, and supposed to be a remedy andpreventive against worms. 

The rice grounds or fields are laid out in squares, and surrounded byembankments, to retain the water of the rains or streams. After therains have fallen in sufficient quantities to saturate the ground, aseed-bed is generally planted in one corner of the field, in which therice is sown broadcast, about the month of June. The heavy rains takeplace in August, when the fields are ploughed, and are soon filled withwater. The young plants are about this time taken from the seed-bed, their tops and roots trimmed, and then planted in the field by makingholes in the ground with the fingers and placing four or five sprouts ineach of them; in this tedious labor the poor women are employed, whilstthe males are lounging in their houses or in the shade of the trees. 

The harvest for the aquatic rice begins in December. It is reaped withsmall sickles, peculiar to the country, called yatap; to the back ofthese a small stick is fastened, by which they are held, and the stalkis forced upon it and cut. The spikes of rice are cut with thisimplement, one by one. In this operation, men, women and children, alltake part. 

The upland rice requires much more care and labour in its cultivation. The land must be ploughed three or four times, and all the turf andlumps well broken up by the harrow. 

During its growth it requires to be weeded two or three times, to keepthe weeds from choking the crop. The seed is sown broadcast in May. Thiskind of rice is harvested in November, and to collect the crop is stillmore tedious than in the other case, for it is always gathered earlierand never reaped, in consequence of the grain not adhering to the ear. If it were gathered in any other way, the loss by transportation on thebacks of buffaloes and horses, without any covering to the sheaf, wouldbe so great as to dissipate a great portion of the crop. 

After the rice is harvested, there are different modes of treating it. Some of the proprietors take it home, where it is thrown into heaps, andleft until it is desirable to separate it from the straw, when it istrodden out by men and women with their bare feet. For this operationthey usually receive a fifth part of the rice. 

Others stack it in a wet and green state, which subjects it to heat, from which cause the grain contracts a dark colour and an unpleasanttaste and smell. The natives, however, impute these defects to thewetness of the season. 

The crop of both the low and upland rice is usually from thirty to fiftyfor one: this on old land; but on that which is newly cleared, or whichhas never been cultivated, the yield is far beyond this. In some soilsof the latter description, it is said that for a chupa (seven cubicinches) planted the yield has been a caban. The former is thetwo-hundred-and-eighth part of the latter. This is not the onlyadvantage gained in planting rice lands, but the saving of labour isequally great; for all that is required is to make a hole with thefingers and place three or four grains in it. The upland rice requiresbut little water, and is never irrigated. 

The cultivator in the Philippine Islands is always enabled to secureplenty of manure; for vegetation is so luxuriant that by pulling theweeds and laying them with earth a good stock is quickly obtained withwhich to cover his fields. Thus, although the growth is so rank as tocause him labour, yet in this hot climate its decay is equally rapid, which tends to make his labours more successful. 

Among the important productions of these islands, I have mentioned hemp, although the article called Manila hemp must not be understood to bederived from the plant which produces the common hemp (_Canabis_), beingobtained from a species of plantain (_Musa textilis_), called in thePhilippines "abaca. " This is a native of these islands, and was formerlybelieved to be found only on Mindanao; but this is not the case, for itis cultivated on the south part of Luzon and all the islands south ofit. It grows on high ground, in rich soil, and is propagated by seeds. It resembles the other plants of the tribe of plantains, but its fruitis much smaller, although edible. The fibre is derived from the stem, and the plant attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet. The usualmode of preparing the hemp is to cut off the stem near the ground, before the time or just when the fruit is ripe. The stem is then eightor ten feet long below the leaves, where it is again cut. The outercoating of the herbaceous stem is then stripped off, until the fibres orcellular parts are seen, when it undergoes the process of rotting, andafter being well dried in houses and sheds, is prepared for market byassorting it, a task which is performed by the women and children. Thatwhich is intended for cloth is soaked for an hour or two in weaklime-water prepared from sea-shells, again dried, and put up in bundles. From all the districts in which it grows, it is sent to Manila, which isthe only port whence it can legally be exported. It arrives in largebundles, and is packed there by means of a screw-press in compact bales, for shipping, secured by rattan, each weighing two piculs. [A picul isabout 140 pounds. ]

The best Manila hemp ought to be white, dry, and of a long and finefibre. This is known at Manila by the name of lupis; the second qualitythey call bandala. 

That which is brought to the United States is principally manufacturedin or near Boston, and is the cordage known as "white rope. " The cordagemanufactured at Manila is, however, very superior to the rope made withus, although the hemp is of the inferior kind. A large quantity is alsomanufactured into mats. 

In the opinion of our botanist, it is not probable that the plant couldbe introduced with success into our country, for in the Philippines itis not found north of latitude 14° N. 

The coffee-plant is well adapted to these islands. A few plants wereintroduced into the gardens of Manila about fifty years ago, since whichtime it has been spread all over the island, as is supposed, by thecivet-cats, which, after swallowing the seeds, carry them to a distancebefore they are voided. 

The coffee of commerce is obtained here from the wild plant, and is ofan excellent quality. Upwards of three thousand five hundred piculs arenow exported, of which one-sixth goes to the United States. 

The sugar-cane thrives well here. It is planted after the Frenchfashion, by sticking the piece diagonally into the ground. Some, findingthe cane has suffered in times of drought, have adopted other modes. Itcomes to perfection in a year, and they seldom have two crops from thesame piece of land, unless the season is very favourable. 

There are many kinds of cane cultivated, but that grown in the valley ofPampanga is thought to be the best. It is a small, red variety, fromfour to five feet high, and not thicker than the thumb. The manufactureof the sugar is rudely conducted; and the whole business, I was told, was in the hands of a few capitalists, who, by making advances, securethe whole crop from those who are employed to bring it to market. It isgenerally brought in moulds of the usual conical shape, called pilones, which are delivered to the purchaser from November to June, and containeach about one hundred and fifty pounds. On their receipt they areplaced in large storehouses, where the familiar operation of claying isperformed. The estimate for the quantity of sugar from these pilonesafter this process is about one hundred pounds; it depends upon the caretaken in the process. 

Of cotton they raise a considerable quantity, and principally of theyellow nankeen. In the province of Ylocos it is cultivated mostextensively. The mode of cleaning it of its seed is very rude, by meansof a hand-mill, and the expense of cleaning a picul (one hundred andforty pounds) is from five to seven dollars. There have, as far as Ihave understood, been no endeavours to introduce any cotton-gins fromour country. 

It will be merely necessary to give the prices at which labourers arepaid to show how the compensation is in comparison with that in ourcountry. In the vicinity of Manila, twelve and a half cents per day isthe usual wages; this in the provinces falls to six and nine cents. Aman with two buffaloes is paid about thirty cents. The amount of labourperformed by the latter in a day would be the ploughing of a soane, about two-tenths of an acre. The most profitable way of employinglabourers is by the task, when, it is said, the natives work well, andare industrious. 

The manner in which the sugar and other produce is brought to market atManila is peculiar, and deserves to be mentioned. In some of thevillages the chief men unite to build a vessel, generally a pirogue, inwhich they embark their produce, under the conduct of a few persons, whogo to navigate it, and dispose of the cargo. In due time they make theirvoyage, and when the accounts are settled, the returns are distributedto each according to his share. Festivities are then held, the saintsthanked for their kindness, and blessings invoked for another year. After this is over, the vessel is taken carefully to pieces, anddistributed among the owners, to be preserved for the next season. 

The profits in the crops, according to estimates, vary from sixty to onehundred per cent. ; but it was thought, as a general average, that thiswas, notwithstanding the great productiveness of the soil, far beyondthe usual profits accruing from agricultural operations. In someprovinces this estimate would hold good, and probably be exceeded. 

Indigo would probably be a lucrative crop, for that raised here is saidto be of a quality equal to the best, and the crop is not subject to somany uncertainties as in India: the capital and attention required invats, etc. , prevent it from being raised in any quantities. Among theproductions, the bamboo and rattan ought to claim a particular noticefrom their great utility: they enter into almost everything. Of theformer their houses are built, including frames, floors, sides, androof; fences are made of the same material, as well as every article ofgeneral household use, including baskets for oil and water. The rattanis a general substitute for ropes of all descriptions, and the twocombined are used in constructing rafts for crossing ferries. 

The crops frequently suffer from the ravages of the locusts, which sweepall before them. Fortunately for the poorer classes, their attacks takeplace after the rice has been harvested; but the cane is sometimesentirely cut off. The authorities of Manila, in the vain hope ofstopping their devastations, employ persons to gather them and throwthem into the sea. I understood on one occasion they had spent eightythousand dollars in this way, but all to little purpose. It is said thatthe crops rarely suffer from droughts, but on the contrary the rains arethought to fall too often and to flood the rice fields; these, however, yield a novel crop, and are very advantageous to the poor, viz. : a greatquantity of fish, which are called dalag, and are a species of Blunnius;they are so plentiful that they are caught with baskets; these fishweigh from a half to two pounds, and some are said to be eighteen incheslong; but this is not all; they are said, after a deep inundation, tobe found even in the vaults of churches. 

The Philippines are divided into thirty-one provinces, sixteen of whichare on the island of Luzon, and the remainder comprise the other islandsof the group and the Ladrones. 

The population of the whole group is above three millions, including alltribes of natives, mestizoes, and whites. The latter-named class are butfew in number, not exceeding three thousand. The mestizoes were supposedto be about fifteen or twenty thousand; they are distinguished asSpanish and Indian mestizoes. The Chinese have of late years increasedto a large number, and it is said that there are forty thousand of themin and around Manila alone. One-half of the whole population belongs toLuzon. The island next to it in number of inhabitants is Panay, whichcontains about three hundred and thirty thousand. Then come Zebu, Mindanao, Leyte, Samar, and Negros, varying from the above numbers downto fifty thousand. The population is increasing, and it is thought thatit doubles itself in seventy years. This rate of increase appearsprobable, from a comparison of the present population with the estimatemade at the beginning of the present century, which shows a growth inforty years of about one million four hundred thousand. 

The native population is composed of a number of distinct tribes, theprincipal of which in Luzon are Pangarihan, Ylocos, Cagayan, Tagala, and Pampangan. 

The Irogotes, who dwell in the mountains, are the only natives who havenot been subjected by the Spaniards. The other tribes have becomeidentified with their rulers in religion, and it is thought that by thiscircumstance alone has Spain been able to maintain the ascendency, withso small a number, over such a numerous, intelligent, and energetic raceas they are represented to be. This is, however, more easily accountedfor, from the Spaniards fostering and keeping alive the jealousy andhatred that existed at the time of the discovery between the differenttribes. 

It seems almost incredible that Spain should have so long persisted inthe policy of allowing no more than one galleon to pass annually betweenher colonies, and equally so that the nations of Europe should have beenso long deceived in regard to the riches and wealth that Spain wasmonopolizing in the Philippines. The capture of Manila, in 1762, by theEnglish, first gave a clear idea of the value of this remote andlittle-known appendage of the empire. 

The Philippines, considered in their capacity for commerce, arecertainly among the most favoured portions of the globe, and there isbut one circumstance that tends in the least degree to lessen theirapparent advantage; this is the prevalence of typhoons in the Chinaseas, which are occasionally felt with force to the north of latitude10° N. South of that parallel they have never been known to prevail, andseldom so far; but from their unfailing occurrence yearly in some partof the China seas, they are looked for with more or less dread, andcause each season a temporary interruption in all the trade that passesalong the coast of these islands. 

The army is now composed entirely of native troops, who number about sixthousand men, and the regiments are never suffered to serve in theprovinces in which they are recruited, but those from the north are sentto the south, and vice versa. There they are employed to keep acontinual watch on each other; and, speaking different dialects, theynever become identified. 

They are, indeed, never allowed to remain long enough in one region toimbibe any feelings in unison with those of its inhabitants. Thehostility is so great among the regiments that mutinies have occurred, and contests arisen which have produced even bloodshed, which it wasentirely out of the power of the officers to prevent. In cases of thiskind, summary punishment is resorted to. 

Although the Spaniards, as far as is known abroad, live in peace andquiet, this is far from being the case; for rebellion and revolts amongthe troops and tribes are not unfrequent in the provinces. During thetime of our visit one of these took place, but it was impossible tolearn anything concerning it that could be relied upon, for allconversation respecting such occurrences is interdicted by thegovernment. The difficulty to which I refer was said to have originatedfrom the preaching of a fanatic priest, who inflamed them to such adegree that they overthrew the troops and became temporarily masters ofthe country. Prompt measures were immediately taken, and orders issuedto give the rebels no quarter; the regiments most hostile to those inthe revolt were ordered to the spot; they spared no one; the priest andhis companions were taken, put to death, and according to report, in amanner so cruel as to be a disgrace to the records of the nineteenthcentury. Although I should hope the accounts I heard of thesetransactions were incorrect, yet the detestation these acts were held inwould give some colour to the statements. 

The few gazettes that are published at Manila are entirely under thecontrol of the government; and a resident of that city must make up hismind to remain in ignorance of the things that are passing around him, or believe just what the authorities will allow to be told, whethertruth or falsehood. The government of the Philippines is emphatically aniron rule; how long can it continue so is doubtful. 

The natives of the Philippines are industrious. They manufacture anamount of goods sufficient to supply their own wants, particularly fromPanay and Ylocos. These, for the most part, consist of cotton and silks, and a peculiar article called pina. The latter is manufactured from aspecies of Bromelia (pine-apple), and comes principally from the islandof Panay. The finest kinds of pina are exceedingly beautiful and surpassany other material in its evenness and beauty of texture. Its colour isyellowish, and the embroidery is fully equal to the material. It is muchsought after by all strangers, and considered as one of the curiositiesof this group. Various reports have been stated of the mode of itsmanufacture, and among others that it was woven under water, which Ifound, upon inquiry, to be quite erroneous. The web of the pina is sofine that they are obliged to prevent all currents of air from passingthrough the rooms where it is manufactured, for which purpose there aregauze screens in the windows. After the article is brought to Manila, itis then embroidered by girls; this last operation adds greatly to itsvalue. 

The market is a never-failing place of amusement to a foreigner; forthere a crowd of the common people is always to be seen, and their modeof conducting business may be observed. The canals here afford greatfacilities for bringing vegetables and produce to market in a freshstate. The vegetables are chiefly brought from the shores of the Lagunade Bay, through the river Pasig. The meat appeared inferior, and as inall Spanish places the art of butchering is not understood. Thepoultry, however, surpasses that of any other place I have seen, particularly in ducks, the breeding of which is pursued to a greatextent. Establishments for breeding these birds are here carried on in asystematic manner, and are a great curiosity. They consist of many smallenclosures, each about twenty feet by forty or fifty, made of bamboo, which are placed on the bank of the river, and partly covered withwater. In one corner of the enclosure is a small house, where the eggsare hatched by artificial heat, produced by rice-chaff in a state offermentation. It is not uncommon to see six or eight hundred ducklingsall of the same age. There are several hundreds of these enclosures, andthe number of ducks of all ages may be computed at millions. The mannerin which they are schooled to take exercise, and to go in and out of thewater, and to return to their house, almost exceeds belief. The keepersor tenders are of the Tagala tribe, who live near the enclosures, andhave them at all times under their eye. The old birds are not sufferedto approach the young, and all of one age are kept together. They arefed upon rice and a small species of shell-fish that is found in theriver and is peculiar to it. From the extent of these establishments weinferred that ducks were the favourite article of food at Manila, andthe consumption of them must be immense. The markets are well suppliedwith chickens, pigeons, young partridges, which are brought in alive, and turkeys. Among strange articles that we saw for sale were cakes ofcoagulated blood. The markets are well stocked with a variety of fish, taken both in the Laguna and bay of Manila, affording a supply of boththe fresh and salt water species, and many smaller kinds that are driedand smoked. Vegetables are in great plenty, and consist of pumpkins, lettuce, onions, radishes, very long squashes, etc. ; of fruits they havemelons, chicos, durians, marbolas, and oranges. 

Fish are caught in weirs, by the hook, or in seines. The former areconstructed of bamboo stakes, in the shallow water of the lake, at thepoint where it flows through the river Pasig. In the bay, and at themouth of the river, the fish are taken in nets, suspended by the fourcorners from hoops attached to a crane, by which they are lowered intothe water. The fishing-boats are little better than rafts, and arecalled saraboas. 

The usual passage-boat is termed banca, and is made of a single trunk. These are very much used by the inhabitants. They have a sort of awningto protect the passenger from the rays of the sun; and being light areeasily rowed about, although they are exceedingly uncomfortable to sitin, from the lowness of the seats, and liable to overset if the weightis not placed near the bottom. The out-rigger has in all probabilitybeen dispensed with, owing to the impediment it offered to thenavigation of their canals; these canals offer great facilities for thetransportation of burdens; the banks of almost all of them are facedwith granite. Where the streets cross them, there are substantial stonebridges, which are generally of no more than one arch, so as not toimpede the navigation. The barges used for the transportation of produceresemble our canal-boats, and have sliding roofs to protect them fromthe rain. 

Water for the supply of vessels is brought off in large earthen jars. Itis obtained from the river, and if care is not taken, the water will beimpure; it ought to be filled beyond the city. Our supply was obtainedfive or six miles up the river by a lighter, in which were placed anumber of water-casks. It proved excellent. 

The country around Manila, though no more than an extended plain forsome miles, is one of great interest and beauty, and affords manyagreeable rides on the roads to Santa Anna and Maraquino. Most of thecountry-seats are situated on the river Pasig; they may indeed be calledpalaces, from their extent and appearance. They are built upon a grandscale, and after the Italian style, with terraces, supported by strongabutments, decked with vases of plants. The grounds are ornamented withthe luxuriant, lofty, and graceful trees of the tropics; these aretolerably well kept. Here and there fine large stone churches, withtheir towers and steeples, are to be seen, the whole giving theimpression of a wealthy nobility and a happy and flourishing peasantry. 

THE ASCENT OF MOUNT TYNDALL. 

CLARENCE KING. 

 [In 1864 Professor Josiah Dwight Whitney, State Geologist of California, sent a band of five explorers for a summer's campaign in the high Sierras. Clarence King was assistant geologist of the party; he recounted their researches and adventures in "Mountaineering in the Sierra Nevada, " published in 1871 by J. R. Osgood & Co. , Boston; three years later the same firm issued an enlarged edition with maps. "The Ascent of Mount Tyndall, " the third chapter of the book, is one of the most thrilling stories of adventure ever written. Clarence King suggested and organized the United States Geological Survey, and was its director 1878-81. He died in 1901. ]

Morning dawned brightly upon our bivouac among a cluster of dark firs inthe mountain corridor, opened by an ancient glacier of King's River inthe heart of the Sierras. It dawned a trifle sooner than we could havewished, but Professor Brewer and Hoffman had breakfasted before sunrise, and were off with barometer and theodolite upon their shoulders, proposing to ascend our amphitheatre to its head and climb a greatpyramidal peak which swelled up against the eastern sky, closing theview in that direction. 

We, who remained in camp, spent the day in overhauling campaignmaterials and preparing for a grand assault upon the summits. For acouple of hours we could descry our friends through the field-glasses, their minute black forms moving slowly on among piles of giant débris;now and then lost, again coming into view, and at last disappearingaltogether. 

It was twilight of evening and almost eight o'clock when they came backto camp, Brewer leading the way, Hoffman following; and as they sat downby our fire without uttering a word we read upon their faces terriblefatigue. 

So we hastened to give them supper of coffee and soup, bread andvenison, which resulted, after a time, in our getting in return thestory of the day. 

For eight whole hours they had worked up over granite and snow, mountingridge after ridge, till the summit was made about two o'clock. 

These snowy crests bounding our view at the eastward we had all alongtaken to be the summits of the Sierra, and Brewer had supposed himselfto be climbing a dominant peak, from which he might look eastward overOwen's Valley and out upon leagues of desert. Instead of this a vastwall of mountains, lifted still higher than his peak, rose beyond atremendous cañon which lay like a trough between the two parallel ranksof peaks. Hoffman showed us on his sketch-book the profile of this newrange, and I instantly recognized the peaks which I had seen fromMariposa, whose great white pile had led me to believe them the highestpoints of California. 

For a couple of months my friends had made me the target of plenty ofpleasant banter about my "highest land, " which they lost faith in as weclimbed from Thomas's Mill, --I too becoming a trifle anxious about it;but now the truth had burst upon Brewer and Hoffman they could not findwords to describe the terribleness and grandeur of the deep cañon, norfor picturing those huge crags towering in line at the east. Their peak, as indicated by the barometer, was in the region of 13, 400 feet, and alevel across to the farther range showed its crests to be at least 1, 500feet higher. They had spent hours upon the summit scanning the easternhorizon, and ranging downward into the labyrinth of gulfs below, and hadcome at last with reluctance to the belief that to cross this gorge andascend the eastern wall of peaks was utterly impossible. 

Brewer and Hoffman were old climbers, and their verdict of impossibleopposed me as I lay awake thinking about it; but early next morning Ihad made up my mind, and, taking Cotter aside, I asked him in an easymanner whether he would like to penetrate the Unknown Land with me atthe risk of our necks, provided Brewer should consent. In frank, courageous tone he answered after his usual mode, "Why not?" Stout oflimb, stronger yet in heart, of iron endurance, and a quiet, unexcitedtemperament, and, better yet, deeply devoted to me, I felt that Cotterwas the one comrade I would choose to face death with, for I believedthere was in his manhood no room for fear or shirk. 

It was a trying moment for Brewer when we found him and volunteered toattempt a campaign for the top of California, because he felt a certainfatherly responsibility over our youth, a natural desire that we shouldnot deposit our triturated remains in some undiscoverable hole among thefeldspathic granites; but, like a true disciple of science, this was atlast overbalanced by his intense desire to know more of the unexploredregion. He freely confessed that he believed the plan madness, andHoffman, too, told us we might as well attempt to get on a cloud as totry the peak. 

As Brewer gradually yielded his consent, I saw by his conversation thatthere was a possibility of success; so we spent the rest of the day inmaking preparations. 

Our walking shoes were in excellent condition, the hobnails firm andnew. We laid out a barometer, a compass, a pocket-level, a set of wetand dry thermometers, note-books, with bread, cooked beans, and venisonenough to last a week, rolled them all in blankets, making twoknapsack-shaped packs strapped firmly together with loops for the arms, which, by Brewer's estimate, weighed forty pounds apiece. 

Gardner declared he would accompany us to the summit of the first rangeto look over into the gulf we were to cross, and at last Brewer andHoffman also concluded to go up with us. 

Quite too early for our profit we all betook ourselves to bed, vainlyhoping to get a long refreshing sleep from which we should rise readyfor our tramp. 

Never a man welcomed those first gray streaks in the east gladder than Idid, unless it may be Cotter, who has in later years confessed that hedid not go to sleep that night. Long before sunrise we had done ourbreakfast and were under way, Hoffman kindly bearing my pack, and BrewerCotter's. 

Our way led due east up the amphitheatre and toward Mount Brewer, as wehad named the great pyramidal peak. 

Awhile after leaving camp, slant sunlight streamed in among gildedpinnacles along the slope of Mount Brewer, touching here and there, inbroad dashes of yellow, the gray walls, which rose sweeping up on eitherside like the sides of a ship. 

Our way along the valley's middle ascended over a number of huge steps, rounded and abrupt, at whose bases were pools of transparent snow-wateredged with rude piles of erratic glacier blocks, scattered companies ofalpine firs, of red bark and having cypress-like darkness of foliage, with fields of snow under sheltering cliffs, and bits of softest velvetmeadow clouded with minute blue and white flowers. 

As we climbed, the gorge grew narrow and sharp, both sides wilder; andthe spurs which projected from them, nearly overhanging the middle ofthe valley, towered above us with more and more severe sculpture. Wefrequently crossed deep fields of snow, and at last reached the levelof the highest pines, where long slopes of débris swept down from eithercliff, meeting in the middle. Over and among these immense blocks, oftentwenty and thirty feet high, we were obliged to climb, hearing far belowus the subterranean gurgle of streams. 

Interlocking spurs nearly closed the gorge behind us; our last view wasout a granite gateway formed of two nearly vertical precipices, sharp-edged, jutting buttress-like, and plunging down into a field ofangular boulders which fill the valley bottom. 

The eye ranged out from this open gateway overlooking the great King'sCañon with its moraine-terraced walls, the domes of granite upon BigMeadows, and the undulating stretch of forest which descends to theplain. 

The gorge turning southward, we rounded a sort of mountain promontory, which, closing the view behind us, shut us up in the bottom of a perfectbasin. In front lay a placid lake reflecting the intense black-blue ofthe sky. Granite, stained with purple and red, sank into it upon oneside, and a broad spotless field of snow came down to its margin on theother. 

From a pile of large granite blocks, forty or fifty feet up above thelake margin, we could look down fully a hundred feet through thetransparent water to where boulders and pebbles were strewn upon thestone bottom. We had now reached the base of Mount Brewer and wereskirting its southern spurs in a wide open corridor surrounded in alldirections by lofty granite crags from two to four thousand feet high;above the limits of vegetation, rocks, lakes of deep heavenly blue, andwhite trackless snows were grouped closely about us. Two sounds, a sharplittle cry of martens and occasional heavy crashes of falling rock, saluted us. 

Climbing became exceedingly difficult, light air--for we had alreadyreached 12, 500 feet--beginning to tell on our lungs to such an extentthat my friend, who had taken turns with me in carrying my pack, wasunable to do so any longer, and I adjusted it to my own shoulders forthe rest of the day. 

After four hours of slow laborious work we made the base of the débrisslope which rose about a thousand feet to a saddle pass in the westernmountain wall, that range upon which Mount Brewer is so prominent apoint. We were nearly an hour in toiling up this slope over an uncertainfooting which gave way at almost every step. At last, when almost at thetop, we paused to take breath, and then all walked out upon the crest, laid off our packs, and sat down together upon the summit of the ridge, and for a few minutes not a word was spoken. 

The Sierras are here two parallel summit ranges. We were upon the crestof the western range, and looked down into a gulf 5, 000 feet deep, sinking from our feet in abrupt cliffs nearly or quite 2, 000 feet, whosebase plunged into a broad field of snow lying steep and smooth for agreat distance, but broken near its foot by craggy steps often athousand feet high. 

Vague blue haze obscured the lost depths, hiding details, giving abottomless distance out of which, like the breath of wind, floated up afaint treble, vibrating upon the senses, yet never clearly heard. 

Rising on the other side, cliff above cliff, precipice piled uponprecipice, rock over rock, up against sky, towered the most giganticmountain-wall in America, culminating in a noble pile of gothic-finishedgranite and enamel-like snow. How grand and inviting looked its whiteform, its untrodden, unknown crest, so high and pure in the clear strongblue! I looked at it as one contemplating the purpose of his life; andfor just one moment I would have rather liked to dodge that purpose, orto have waited, or to have found some excellent reason why I might notgo; but all this quickly vanished, leaving a cheerful resolve to goahead. 

From the two opposing mountain-walls singular, thin, knife-blade ridgesof stone jutted out, dividing the sides of the gulf into a series ofamphitheatres, each one a labyrinth of ice and rock. Piercing thick bedsof snow, sprang up knobs and straight isolated spires of rock, mereobelisks curiously carved by frost, their rigid slender forms casting ablue, sharp shadow upon the snow. Embosomed in depressions of ice, orresting on broken ledges, were azure lakes, deeper in tone than thesky, which at this altitude, even at midday, has a violet duskiness. 

To the south, not more than eight miles, a wall of peaks stood acrossthe gulf, dividing the King's, which flowed north at our feet, from theKern River, that flowed down the trough in the opposite direction. 

I did not wonder that Brewer and Hoffman pronounced our undertakingimpossible; but when I looked at Cotter there was such complete braveryin his eye that I asked him if he were ready to start. His old answer, "Why not?, " left the initiative with me; so I told Professor Brewer thatwe would bid him good-bye. Our friends helped us on with our packs insilence, and as we shook hands there was not a dry eye in the party. Before he let go of my hand Professor Brewer asked me for my plan, and Ihad to own that I had but one, which was to reach the highest peak inthe range. 

After looking in every direction I was obliged to confess that I saw asyet no practicable way. We bade them a "good-bye, " receiving their "Godbless you" in return, and started southward along the range to look forsome possible cliff to descend. Brewer, Gardner, and Hoffman turnednorth to push upward to the summit of Mount Brewer, and complete theirobservations. We saw them whenever we halted, until at last, on the verysummit, their microscopic forms were for the last time visible. Withvery great difficulty we climbed a peak which surmounted our wall justto the south of the pass, and, looking over the eastern brink, foundthat the precipice was still sheer and unbroken. In one place, where thesnow lay against it to the very top, we went to its edge andcontemplated the slide. About three thousand feet of unbroken white, ata fearfully steep angle, lay below us. We threw a stone over it andwatched it bound until it was lost in the distance; after fearful leapswe could only detect it by the flashings of snow where it struck, and asthese were in some instances three hundred feet apart, we decided not tolaunch our own valuable bodies, and the still more precious barometer, after it. 

There seemed but one possible way to reach our goal; that was to makeour way along the summit of the cross ridge which projected between thetwo ranges. This divide sprang out from our Mount Brewer wall, aboutfour miles to the south of us. To reach it we must climb up and downover the indented edge of the Mount Brewer wall. In attempting to dothis we had a rather lively time scaling a sharp granite needle, wherewe found our course completely stopped by precipices four and fivehundred feet in height. Ahead of us the summit continued to be brokeninto fantastic pinnacles, leaving us no hope of making our way along it;so we sought the most broken part of the eastern descent, and began toclimb down. The heavy knapsacks, besides wearing our shoulders graduallyinto a black-and-blue state, overbalanced us terribly, and kept us inconstant danger of pitching headlong. At last, taking them off, Cotterclimbed down until he found a resting-place upon a cleft of rock, then Ilowered them to him with our lasso, afterwards descending cautiously tohis side, taking my turn in pioneering downward, receiving the freightof knapsacks as before. In this manner we consumed more that half theafternoon in descending a thousand feet of broken, precipitous slope;and it was almost sunset when we found ourselves upon fields of levelsnow which lay white and thick over the whole interior slope of theamphitheatre. The gorge below us seemed utterly impassable. At our backsthe Mount Brewer wall either rose in sheer cliffs or in broken, ruggedstairway, such as had offered us our descent. From this cruel dilemmathe cross divide furnished the only hope, and the sole chance of scalingthat was at its junction with the Mount Brewer wall. Toward this pointwe directed our course, marching wearily over stretches of dense frozensnow, and regions of débris, reaching about sunset the last alcove ofthe amphitheatre, just at the foot of the Mount Brewer wall. It wasevidently impossible for us to attempt to climb it that evening, and welooked about the desolate recesses for a sheltered camping-spot. A highgranite wall surrounded us upon three sides, recurring to the southwardin long elliptical curves; no part of the summit being less than 2, 000feet above us, the higher crags not infrequently reaching 3, 000 feet. Asingle field of snow swept around the base of the rock, and covered thewhole amphitheatre, except where a few spikes and rounded masses ofgranite rose through it, and where two frozen lakes, with their blueice-disks, broke the monotonous surface. Through the white snow-gate ofour amphitheatre, as through a frame, we looked eastward upon the summitgroup; not a tree, not a vestige of vegetation in sight, --sky, snow, andgranite the only elements in this wild picture. 

After searching for a shelter we at last found a granite crevice nearthe margin of one of the frozen lakes, --a sort of shelf just largeenough for Cotter and me, --where we hastened to make our bed, havingfirst filled the canteen from a small stream that trickled over the ice, knowing that in a few moments the rapid chill would freeze it. We ateour supper of cold venison and bread, and whittled from the sides of thewooden barometer case shaving enough to warm water for a cup ofmiserably tepid tea, and then, packing our provisions and instrumentsaway at the head of the shelf, rolled ourselves in our blankets and laydown to enjoy the view. 

After such fatiguing exercises the mind has an almost abnormalclearness: whether this is wholly from within, or due to the intenselyvitalizing mountain air, I am not sure; probably both contribute to thestate of exaltation in which all alpine climbers find themselves. Thesolid granite gave me a luxurious repose, and I lay on the edge of ourlittle rock niche and watched the strange yet brilliant scene. 

All the snow of our recess lay in the shadow of the high granite wall tothe west, but the Kern divide which curved around us from the southeastwas in full light; its broken sky-line, battlemented and adorned withinnumerable rough-hewn spires and pinnacles, was a mass of glowingorange intensely defined against the deep violet sky. At the open end ofour horseshoe amphitheatre, to the east, its floor of snow rounded overin a smooth brink, overhanging precipices which sank 2, 000 feet into theKing's Cañon. Across the gulf rose the whole procession of summit peaks, their lower half rooted in a deep sombre shadow cast by the westernwall, the heights bathed in a warm purple haze, in which the irregularmarbling of snow burned with a pure crimson light. A few fleecy clouds, dyed fiery orange, drifted slowly eastward across the narrow zone of skywhich stretched from summit to summit like a roof. At times the sound ofwaterfalls, faint and mingled with echoes, floated up through the stillair. The snow near by lay in cold ghastly shade, warmed here and therein strange flashes by light reflected downward from drifting clouds. Thesombre waste about us; the deep violet vault overhead; those farsummits, glowing with reflected rose; the deep impenetrable gloom whichfilled the gorge, and slowly and with vapour-like stealth climbed themountain wall, extinguishing the red light, combined to produce aneffect which may not be described; nor can I more than hint at thecontrast between the brilliancy of the scene under full light, and thecold, death-like repose which followed when the wan cliffs and pallidsnow were all overshadowed with ghostly gray. 

A sudden chill enveloped us. Stars in a moment crowded through the darkheaven, flashing with a frosty splendour. The snow congealed, the brooksceased to flow, and, under the powerful sudden leverage of frost, immense blocks were dislodged all along the mountain summits and camethundering down the slopes, booming upon the ice, dashing wildly uponrocks. Under the lee of our shelf we felt quite safe, but neither Cotternor I could help being startled, and jumping just a little, as thesemissiles, weighing often many tons, struck the ledge over our heads andwhizzed down the gorge, their stroke resounding fainter and fainter, until at last only a confused echo reached us. 

The thermometer at nine o'clock marked twenty degrees above zero. We setthe "minimum" and rolled ourselves together for the night. The longer Ilay the less I liked that shelf of granite; it grew hard in time, andcold also, my bones seeming to approach actual contact with the chilledrock; moreover, I found that even so vigorous a circulation as mine wasnot enough to warm up the ledge to anything like a comfortabletemperature. A single thickness of blanket is a better mattress thannone, but the larger crystals of orthoclase, protruding plentifully, punched my back and caused me to revolve on a horizontal axis withprecision and accuracy. How I loved Cotter! how I hugged him and gotwarm, while our backs gradually petrified, till we whirled over andthawed them out together! The slant of that bed was diagonal andexcessive; down it we slid till the ice chilled us awake, and we crawledback and chocked ourselves up with bits of granite inserted under myribs and shoulders. In this pleasant position we got dozing again, andthere stole over me a most comfortable ease. The granite softenedperceptibly. I was delightfully warm and sank into an industriousslumber which lasted with great soundness until four, when we arose andate our breakfast of frozen venison. 

The thermometer stood at two above zero; everything was frozen tightexcept the canteen, which we had prudently kept between us all night. Stars still blazed brightly, and the moon, hidden from us by westerncliffs, shone in pale reflection upon the rocky heights to the east, which rose, dimly white, up from the impenetrable shadows of the cañon. Silence, --cold, ghastly dimness, in which loomed huge forms, --the bitingfrostiness of the air, wrought upon our feelings as we shouldered ourpacks and started with slow pace to climb up the "divide. "

Soon, to our dismay, we found the straps had so chafed our shouldersthat the weight gave us great pain, and obliged us to pad them with ourhandkerchiefs and extra socks, which remedy did not wholly relieve usfrom the constant wearing pain of the heavy load. 

Directing our steps southward toward a niche in the wall which boundedus only half a mile distant, we travelled over a continuous snow-fieldfrozen so densely as scarcely to yield at all to our tread, at the sametime compressing enough to make that crisp frosty sound which we allused to enjoy even before we knew from the books that it had somethingto do with the severe name of regelation. 

As we advanced, the snow sloped more and more steeply up toward thecrags, till by and by it became quite dangerous, causing us to cut stepswith Cotter's large bowie-knife, --a slow, tedious operation, requiringpatience of a pretty permanent kind. In this way we spent a quiet socialhour or so. The sun had not yet reached us, being shut out by the highamphitheatre wall; but its cheerful light reflected downward from anumber of higher crags, filling the recess with the brightness of day, and putting out of existence those shadows which so sombrely darkenedthe earlier hours. To look back when we stopped to rest was to realizeour danger, --that smooth, swift slope of ice carrying the eye down athousand feet to the margin of a frozen mirror of ice; ribs and needlesof rocks piercing up through the snow, so closely grouped that, had wefallen, a miracle only might have saved us from being dashed. This ledto rather deeper steps, and greater care that our burdens should beheld more nearly over the centre of gravity, and a pleasant relief whenwe got to the top of the snow and sat down on a block of granite tobreathe and look up in search of a way up the thousand-foot cliff ofbroken surface, among the lines of fracture and the galleries windingalong the face. 

It would have disheartened us to gaze up the hard sheer front ofprecipices, and search among splintered projections, crevices, shelves, and snow patches for an inviting route, had we not been animated by afaith that the mountains could not defy us. 

Choosing what looked like the least impossible way, we started; but, finding it unsafe to work with packs on, resumed the yesterday'splan, --Cotter taking the lead, climbing about fifty feet ahead, andhoisting up the knapsacks and barometer as I tied them to the end of thelasso. Constantly closing up in hopeless difficulty before us, the wayopened again and again to our gymnastics, till we stood together on amere shelf, not more than two feet wide, which led diagonally up thesmooth cliff. Edging along in careful steps, our backs flattened uponthe granite, we moved slowly to a broad platform, where we stopped forbreath. 

There was no foothold above us. Looking down over the course we hadcome, it seemed, and I really believe it was, an impossible descent forone can climb upward with safety where he cannot downward. To turn backwas to give up in defeat; and, we sat at least half an hour, suggestingall possible routes to the summit, accepting none, and feelingdisheartened. About thirty feet directly over our heads was anothershelf, which, if we could reach, seemed to offer at least a temporaryway upward. On its edge were two or three spikes of granite; whetherfirmly connected with the cliff, or merely blocks of débris, we couldnot tell from below. I said to Cotter, I thought of but one possibleplan: it was to lasso one of these blocks, and to climb, sailor-fashion, hand over hand, up the rope. In the lasso I had perfect confidence, forI had seen more than one Spanish bull throw his whole weight against itwithout parting a strand. The shelf was so narrow that throwing the coilof rope was a very difficult undertaking. I tried three times, andCotter spent five minutes vainly whirling the loop up at the granitespikes. At last I made a lucky throw, and it tightened upon one of thesmaller protuberances. I drew the noose close, and very gradually threwmy hundred and fifty pounds upon the rope; then Cotter joined me, and, for a moment, we both hung our united weight upon it. Whether the rockmoved slightly or whether the lasso stretched a little we were unable todecide; but the trial must be made, and I began to climb slowly. Thesmooth precipice-face against which my body swung offered no foothold, and the whole climb had therefore to be done by the arms, an effortrequiring all one's determination. When about half way up I was obligedto rest, and, curling my feet in the rope, managed to relieve my armsfor a moment. In this position I could not resist the fascinatingtemptation of a survey downward. 

Straight down, nearly a thousand feet below, at the foot of the rocks, began the snow, whose steep, roof-like slope, exaggerated into an almostvertical angle, curved down in a long white field, broken far away byrocks and polished, round lakes of ice. 

Cotter looked up cheerfully and asked how I was making it; to which Ianswered that I had plenty of wind left. At that moment, when hangingbetween heaven and earth, it was a deep satisfaction to look down at thewide gulf of desolation beneath, and up to unknown dangers ahead, andfeel my nerves cool and unshaken. 

A few pulls hand over hand brought me to the edge of the shelf, when, throwing my arm around the granite spike. I swung my body upon the shelfand lay down to rest, shouting to Cotter that I was all right, and thatthe prospects upward were capital. After a few moments' breathing Ilooked over the brink and directed my comrade to tie the barometer tothe lower end of the lasso, which he did, and that precious instrumentwas hoisted to my station, and the lasso sent down twice for knapsacks, after which Cotter came up the rope in his very muscular way withoutonce stopping to rest. We took our loads in our hands, swinging thebarometer over my shoulder, and climbed up a shelf which led in azig-zag direction upward and to the south, bringing us out at last uponthe thin blade of a ridge which connected a short distance above thesummit. It was formed of huge blocks, shattered, and ready, at a touch, to fall. 

So narrow and sharp was the upper slope, that we dared not walk, but gotastride, and worked slowly along with our hands, pushing the knapsacksin advance, now and then holding our breath when loose masses rockedunder our weight. 

Once upon the summit, a grand view burst upon us. Hastening to step uponthe crest of the divide, which was never more than ten feet wide, frequently sharpened to a mere blade, we looked down upon the otherside, and were astonished to find we had ascended the gentler slope, andthat the rocks fell from our feet in almost vertical precipices for athousand feet or more. A glance along the summit toward the highestgroup showed us that any advance in that direction was impossible, forthe thin ridge was gashed down in notches three or four hundred feetdeep, forming a procession of pillars, obelisks, and blocks piled uponeach other, and looking terribly insecure. 

We then deposited our knapsacks in a safe place, and, finding that itwas already noon, determined to rest a little while and take a lunch atover 13, 000 feet above the sea. 

West of us stretched the Mount Brewer wall with its succession ofsmooth precipices and amphitheatre ridges. To the north the great gorgeof the King's River yawned down 5, 000 feet. To the south, the valley ofthe Kern, opening in the opposite direction, was broader, less deep, butmore filled with broken masses of granite. Clustered about the foot ofthe divide were a dozen alpine lakes; the higher ones blue sheets ofice, the lowest completely melted. Still lower in the depths of the twocañons we could see groups of forest trees; but they were so dim and sodistant as never to relieve the prevalent masses of rock and snow. Ourdivide cast its shadow for a mile down King's Cañon in dark-blue profileupon the broad sheets of sunny snow, from whose brightness the hardsplintered cliffs caught reflections and wore an aspect of joy. Thousands of rills poured from the melting snow, filling the air with amusical tinkle as of many accordant bells. The Kern Valley opened belowus with its smooth oval outline, the work of extinct glaciers, whoseform and extent were evident from worn cliff surface and rounded wall;snow-fields, relics of the former _neve_ [glacier snow] hung in whitetapestries around its ancient birthplace; and, as far as we could see, the broad, corrugated valley, for a breadth of fully ten miles, shonewith burnishings wherever its granite surface was not covered withlakelets or thickets of alpine vegetation. 

Through a deep cut in the Mount Brewer wall we gained our first view tothe westward, and saw in the distance the wall of the South King'sCañon, and the granite point which Cotter and I had climbed a fortnightbefore. But for the haze we might have seen the plain; for above itsfarther limit were several points of the Coast Ranges, isolated likeislands in the sea. 

The view was so grand, the mountain colours so brilliant, immensesnow-fields and blue alpine lakes so charming, that we almost forgot wewere ever to move, and it was only after a swift hour of this delightthat we began to consider our future course. 

The King's Cañon, which headed against our wall, seemeduntraversable, --no human being could climb along the divide; we had thenbut one hope of reaching the peak, and our greatest difficulty lay atthe start. If we could climb down to the Kern side of the divide, andsucceed in reaching the base of the precipices which fell from our feet, it really looked as if we might travel without difficulty among therocks to the other side of the Kern Valley, and make our attempt uponthe southward flank of the great peak. One look at the sublime whitegiant decided us. We looked down over the precipice, and at first couldsee no method of descent. Then we went back and looked at the road wehad come up, to see if that were not possibly as bad; but the brokensurface of the rocks was evidently much better climbing-ground thananything ahead of us. Cotter, with danger, edged his way along the wallto the east, and I to the west, to see if there might not be somefavourable point; but we both returned with the belief that theprecipice in front of us was as passable as any of it. Down it we must. 

After lying on our faces, looking over the brink ten or twenty minutes, I suggested that by lowering ourselves on the rope we might climb fromcrevice to crevice; but we saw no shelf large enough for ourselves andthe knapsacks too. However, we were not going to give it up without atrial; and I made the rope fast around my breast and, looping the nooseover a firm point of rock, let myself slide gradually down to a notchforty feet below. There was only room beside me for Cotter, so I had himsend down the knapsacks first. I then tied these together by the strapswith my silk handkerchiefs, and hung them as far to the left as I couldreach without losing my balance, looping the handkerchiefs over a pointof rock. Cotter then slid down the rope, and, with considerabledifficulty, we whipped the noose off its resting-place above, and cutoff our connection with the upper world. 

"We're in for it now, King, " remarked my comrade, as he looked aloft, and then down; but our blood was up, and danger added only anexhilarating thrill to the nerves. 

The shelf was hardly more than two feet wide, and the granite so smooththat we could find no place to fasten the lasso for the next descent; soI determined to try the climb with only as little aid as possible. Tyingit round my breast again, I gave the other end into Cotter's hands, andhe, bracing his back against the cliff, found for himself as firm afoothold as he could, and promised to give me all the help in his power. I made up my mind to bear no weight unless it was absolutely necessary;and for the first ten feet I found cracks and protuberances enough tosupport me, making every square inch of surface do friction duty, andhugging myself against the rocks as tightly as I could. When withinabout eight feet of the next shelf, I twisted myself round upon theface, hanging by two rough blocks of protruding feldspar, and lookedvainly for some further hand-hold; but the rock, besides being perfectlysmooth, overhung slightly, and my legs dangled in the air. I saw thatthe next cleft was over three feet broad, and I thought, possibly, Imight, by a quick slide, reach it in safety without endangering Cotter. I shouted to him to be very careful and let go in case I fell, loosenedmy hold upon the rope, and slid quickly down. My shoulder struck againstthe rock and threw me out of balance; for an instant I reeled over uponthe verge, in danger of falling, but, in the excitement, I thrust out myhand and seized a small alpine gooseberry bush, the first piece ofvegetation we had seen. Its roots were so firmly fixed in the crevicethat it held my weight and saved me. 

I could no longer see Cotter, but I talked to him, and heard the twoknapsacks come bumping along until they slid over the eaves above me, and swung down to my station, when I seized the lasso's end and bracedmyself as well as possible, intending, if he slipped, to haul in slackand help him as best I might. As he came slowly down from crack tocrack, I heard his hobnailed shoes grating on the granite; presentlythey appeared dangling from the eaves above my head. I had gathered inthe rope until it was taut, and then hurriedly told him to drop. Hehesitated a moment and let go. Before he struck the rock I had him bythe shoulder, and whirled him down upon his side, thus preventing hisrolling overboard, which friendly action he took quite coolly. 

The third descent was not a difficult one, nor the fourth; but when wehad climbed down about two hundred and fifty feet the rocks were soglacially polished and water-worn that it seemed impossible to get anyfarther. To our right was a crack penetrating the rock perhaps a footdeep, widening at the surface to three or four inches, which proved tobe the only possible ladder. As the chances seemed rather desperate, weconcluded to tie ourselves together, in order to share a common fate;and with a slack of thirty feet between us, and our knapsacks upon ourbacks, we climbed into the crevice, and began descending with our facesto the cliff. This had to be done with unusual caution, for the footholdwas about as good as none, and our fingers slipped annoyingly on thesmooth stone; besides the knapsacks and instruments kept a steadybackward pull, tending to overbalance us. But we took pains to descendone at a time, and rest wherever the niches gave our feet a safesupport. In this way we got down about eighty feet of smooth, nearlyvertical wall, reaching the top of a rude granite stairway, which led tothe snow; and here we sat down to rest, and found to our astonishmentthat we had been three hours from the summit. 

After breathing a half-minute we continued down, jumping from rock torock, and, having by practice become very expert in balancing ourselves, sprang on, never resting long enough to lose equilibrium, and in thismanner made a quick descent over rugged débris to the crest of asnow-field, which, for seven or eight hundred feet more, swept down in asmooth, even slope, of very high angle, to the borders of a frozen lake. 

Without untying the lasso which bound us together, we sprang upon thesnow with a shout, and slid down splendidly, turning now and then asomersault, and shooting out like cannon-balls almost to the middle ofthe frozen lake; I upon my back, and Cotter feet first, in a swimmingposition. The ice cracked in all directions. It was only a thin, transparent film, through which we could see deep into the lake. Untyingourselves, we hurried ashore in different directions, lest our combinedweight should be too great a strain upon any point. 

With curiosity and wonder we scanned every shelf and niche of the lastdescent. It seemed quite impossible that we could have come down there, and now it actually was beyond human power to get back again. But whatcared we? "Sufficient unto the day"--We were bound for that stilldistant, though gradually nearing, summit; and we had come from a coldshadowed cliff into deliciously warm sunshine, and were jolly, shouting, singing songs, and calling out the companionship of a hundred echoes. Six miles away, with no grave danger, no great difficulty, between us, lay the base of our grand mountain. Upon its skirts we saw a littlegrove of pines, an ideal bivouac, and toward this we bent our course. 

After the continued climbing of the day, walking was a delicious rest, and forward we pressed with considerable speed, our hobnails giving usfirm footing on the glittering glacial surface. Every fluting of thegreat valley was in itself a considerable cañon, into which wedescended, climbing down the scored rocks, and swinging from block toblock, until we reached the level of the pines. Here, sheltered amongloose rocks, began to appear little fields of alpine grass, pale yetsunny, soft under our feet, fragrantly jewelled with flowers of fairydelicacy, holding up amid thickly clustered blades chalices of turquoiseand amethyst, white stars, and fiery little globes of red. Lakelets, small but innumerable, were held in glacial basins, the scorings andgrooves of that old dragon's track ornamenting their smooth bottoms. 

One of these, a sheet of pure beryl hue, gave us as much pleasure fromits lovely transparency, and because we lay down in the necklace ofgrass about it and smelled flowers, while tired muscles relaxed uponwarm beds of verdure, and the pain in our burdened shoulders went away, leaving us delightfully comfortable. 

After the stern grandeur of granite and ice, and with the peaks andwalls still in view, it was relief to find ourselves again in the regionof life. I never felt for trees and flowers such a sense of intimaterelationship and sympathy. When we had no longer excuse for resting, Iinvented the palpable subterfuge of measuring the altitude of the spot, since the few clumps of low, wide-boughed pines near by were the highestliving trees. So we lay longer with less and less will to rise, and whenresolution called us to our feet the getting up was sorely like Rip VanWinkle's in the third act. 

The deep glacial cañon-flutings across which our march then lay provedto be great consumers of time; indeed it was sunset when we reached theeastern ascent, and began to toil up through scattered pines, and overtrains of moraine [glacial] rocks, toward the great peak. Stars werealready flashing brilliantly in the sky, and the low glowing arch in thewest had almost vanished when we reached the upper trees, and threw downour knapsacks to camp. The forest grew on a sort of plateau-shelf with aprecipitous front to the west, --a level surface which stretchedeastward and back to the foot of our mountain, whose lower spursreached within a mile of camp. Within the shelter lay a huge fallen log, like all these alpine woods one mass of resin, which flared up when weapplied a match, illuminating the whole grove. By contrast with thedarkness outside, we seemed to be in a vast, many-pillared hall. Thestream close by afforded water for our blessed teapot; venison frizzledwith mild, appetizing sound upon the ends of pine sticks; matchlessbeans allowed themselves to become seductively crisp upon our tinplates. That supper seemed to me then the quintessence of gastronomy, and I am sure Cotter and I must have said some very good after-dinnerthings, though I long ago forgot them all. Within the ring of warmth, onelastic beds of pine-needles, we curled up, and fell swiftly into asound sleep. 

I woke up once in the night to look at my watch, and observed that thesky was overcast with a thin film of cirrus cloud to which the reflectedmoonlight lent the appearance of a glimmering tint, stretched frommountain to mountain over cañons filled with impenetrable darkness, onlythe vaguely-lighted peaks and white snow-fields distinctly seen. Iclosed my eyes and slept soundly until Cotter awoke me at half-pastthree, when we arose, breakfasted by the light of our fire, which stillblazed brilliantly, and, leaving our knapsacks, started for the mountainwith only instruments, canteens, and luncheon. 

In the indistinct moonlight climbing was very difficult at first, forwe had to thread our way along a plain which was literally covered withglacier boulders, and the innumerable brooks which we crossed werefrozen solid. However, our march brought us to the base of the greatmountain, which, rising high against the east, shut out the comingdaylight, and kept us in profound shadow. From base to summit rose aseries of broken crags, lifting themselves from a general slope ofdébris. Toward the left the angle seemed to be rather gentler, and thesurface less ragged; and we hoped, by a long détour round the base, tomake an easy climb up this gentler surface. So we toiled on for an hourover the rocks, reaching at last the bottom of the north slope. Here ourwork began in good earnest. The blocks were of enormous size, and inevery stage of unstable equilibrium, frequently rolling over as wejumped upon them, making it necessary for us to take a second leap andland where we best could. To our relief we soon surmounted the largestblocks, reaching a smaller size, which served us as a sort of stairway. 

The advancing daylight revealed to us a very long, comparatively evensnow-slope, whose surface was pierced by many knobs and granite heads, giving it the aspect of a nice-roofing fastened on with bolts of stone. It stretched in far perspective to the summit, where already the rose ofsunrise reflected gloriously, kindling a fresh enthusiasm within us. 

Immense boulders were partly imbedded in the ice just above us, whoseconstant melting left them trembling on the edge of a fall. Itcommunicated no very pleasant sensation to see above you these immensemissiles hanging by a mere band, and knowing that, as soon as the sunrose, you would be exposed to a constant cannonade. 

The east side of the peak, which we could now partially see, was tooprecipitous to think of climbing. The slope toward our camp was too muchbroken into pinnacles and crags to offer us any hope, or to divert usfrom the single way, dead ahead, up slopes of ice and among fragments ofgranite. The sun rose upon us while we were climbing the lower part ofthis snow, and in less than half an hour, melting began to liberate hugeblocks, which thundered down past us, gathering and growing into smallavalanches below. 

We did not dare climb one above another, according to our ordinary mode, but kept about an equal level, a hundred feet apart, lest, dislodgingthe blocks, one should hurl them down upon the other. 

We climbed alternately up smooth faces of granite, clinging simply bythe cracks and protruding crystals of feldspar, and then hewed steps upfearfully steep slopes of ice, zigzagging to the right and left to avoidthe flying boulders. When midway up this slope we reached a place wherethe granite rose in perfectly smooth bluffs on either side of agorge, --a narrow cut, or walled way, leading up to the flat summit ofthe cliff. This we scaled by cutting ice steps, only to find ourselvesfronted again by a still higher wall. Ice sloped from its front at toosteep an angle for us to follow, but had melted in contact with it, leaving a space three feet wide between the ice and the rock. We enteredthis crevice and climbed along its bottom, with a wall of rock rising ahundred feet above us on one side, and a thirty-foot face of ice on theother, through which light of an intense cobalt-blue penetrated. 

Reaching the upper end, we had to cut our footsteps upon the ice again, and, having braced our backs against the granite, climb up to thesurface. We were now in a dangerous position: to fall into the creviceupon one side was to be wedged to death between rock and ice; to make aslip was to be shot down five hundred feet, and then hurled over thebrink of a precipice. In the friendly seat which this wedge gave me, Istopped to take wet and dry observations with the thermometer, --thisbeing an absolute preventive of a scare, --and to enjoy the view. 

The wall of our mountain sank abruptly to the left, opening for thefirst time an outlook to the eastward. Deep--it seemed almostvertically--beneath us we could see the blue waters of Owen's Lake, 10, 000 feet below. The summit peaks to the north were piled up intitanic confusion, their ridges overhanging the eastern slope withterrible abruptness. Clustered upon the shelves and plateaus below wereseveral frozen lakes, and in all directions swept magnificent fields ofsnow. The summit was now not over five hundred feet distant, and westarted on again with the exhilarating hope of success. But if Naturehad intended to secure the summit from all assailants, she could nothave planned her defences better; for the smooth granite wall which roseabove the snow-slope continued, apparently, quite round the peak, and welooked in great anxiety to see if there was not one place where it mightbe climbed. It was all blank except in one place; quite near us the snowbridged across the crevice, and rose in a long point to the summit ofthe wall, --a great icicle-column frozen in a niche of the bluff, --itsbase about ten feet wide, narrowing to two feet at the top. We climbedto the base of this spire of ice, and, with the utmost care, began tocut our stairway. The material was an exceedingly compacted snow, passing into clear ice as it neared the rock. We climbed the first halfof it with comparative ease; after that it was almost vertical, and sothin that we did not dare to cut the footsteps deep enough to make themabsolutely safe. There was a constant dread lest out ladder should breakoff, and we be thrown either down the snow-slope or into the bottom ofthe crevasse. At last, in order to prevent myself from falling overbackwards, I was obliged to thrust my hand into the crack between theice and the wall, and the spire became so narrow that I could do this onboth sides; so that the climb was made as upon a tree, cutting meretoe-holes and embracing the whole column of ice in my arms. At last Ireached the top, and, with the greatest caution, wormed my body overthe brink, and rolling out upon the smooth surface of the granite, looked over and watched Cotter make his climb. He came up steadily, withno sense of nervousness, until he got to the narrow part of the ice, andhere he stopped and looked up with a forlorn face to me; but as heclimbed up over the ledge the broad smile came back to his face, and heasked me if it had occurred to me that we had, by and by, to go downagain. 

We had now an easy slope to the summit, and hurried up over rocks andice, reaching the crest at exactly twelve o'clock. I rang my hammer uponthe topmost rock; we grasped hands, and I reverently named the grandpeak MOUNT TYNDALL. 

THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO

MAJOR JOHN WESLEY POWELL

 [In 1869-72 Major John Wesley Powell was the chief of a party which explored the Colorado River of the West and its tributaries. The chapter subjoined is from his official report, published by the Government Printing Office, Washington, 1875. The substance of that report, with much additional matter of great interest, appears in "The Cañons of the Colorado, " by Major Powell, published by Flood & Vincent, Meadville, Pa. , 1895, with superb illustrations. For fourteen years, beginning with 1880, Major Powell was director of the United States Geological Survey; since 1879 he has been director of the United States Bureau of Ethnology. ]

_August 13, 1869. _ We are now ready to start on our way down the GreatUnknown. Our boats, tied to a common stake, are chafing each other, asthey are tossed by the fretful river. They ride high and buoyant, fortheir loads are lighter than we could desire. We have but a month'srations remaining. The flour has been resifted through the mosquito netsieve; the spoiled bacon has been dried, and the worst of it boiled; thefew pounds of dried apples have been spread in the sun, and reshrunkento their normal bulk; the sugar has all melted, and gone on its way downthe river; but we have a large sack of coffee. The lightening of theboats has this advantage: they will ride the waves better, and we shallhave but little to carry when 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; they are butpuny ripples, and we but pigmies, running up and down the sands, or lostamong the boulders. 

We have an unknown distance yet to run; an unknown river yet 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 out freely this morning; but to me the cheer is sombre and thejests are ghastly. 

With some eagerness, and some anxiety, and some misgiving, we enter thecañon below, and are carried along by the swift water through wallswhich rise from its very edge. They have the same structure as 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 thecañon, 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, has been filled with eruptive matter, and this, on cooling, washarder than the rocks through which the crevice was made, and, whenthese were washed away, the harder volcanic matter remained as a wall, and the river has cut a gateway through it several hundred feet high, and as many wide. As it crosses the wall, there is a fall below, and abad rapid, filled with 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 past sharp angles of rock; stopping at a few points to examinerapids, which we find can be run, until we have made another five miles, when we land for dinner. 

Then we let down with lines, over a long rapid, and start again. Oncemore the walls close in, and we find ourselves in a narrow gorge, thewater again filling the channel, and 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 a littlesandy beach, to take a view of a new feature in the cañon. Heretoforehard rocks have given us bad river; soft rocks, smooth water; and aseries of rocks harder than any we have experienced sets in. The riverenters the granite![1]

We can see but a little way into the granite gorge, but it looksthreatening. 

After breakfast we enter on the waves. At the very introduction, itinspires awe. The cañon 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, extendfar out into the river. 

Ledges of rock jut into the stream, their tops just below the surface, sometimes rising few or many feet above; and island ledges, and islandpinnacles, and island towers break the swift course of the stream intochutes, and eddies, and whirlpools. We soon reach a place where a creekcomes in from the left, and just below the channel is choked withboulders, which have washed down this lateral cañon and formed a dam, over which there is a fall of thirty or forty feet; but on the boulderswe can get foothold, and we make a portage. 

Three more such dams are found. Over one we make a portage; at the othertwo we find chutes, through 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, seventy-fiveor eighty feet in a third of a mile, and the rushing waters break intogreat waves on the rocks, and lash themselves into a mad, white, foam. We can land just above, but there is no foothold on either side by whichwe can make a portage. It is nearly a thousand feet to the top of thegranite, so it will be impossible to carry our boats around, though wecan climb to the summit up a side gulch, and, passing along a mile ortwo, can descend to the river. This we find on examination; but such aportage would be impracticable for us, and we must run the rapid, orabandon the river. There is no hesitation. We step into our boats, pushoff, and away we go, first on smooth but swift water, then we strike aglassy wave, and ride to its top, down again into the trough, up againon a higher wave, and down and up on waves higher and still higher, until we strike one just as it curls back, and a breaker rolls over ourlittle boat. Still, on we speed, shooting past projecting rocks, tillthe little boat is caught in a whirlpool, and spun around several times. At last we pull out again into the stream, and now the other boats havepassed us. The open compartment of the _Emma Dean_ is filled with water, and every breaker rolls over us. Hurled back from a rock, now on thisside, now on that, we are carried into an eddy, in which we struggle fora few minutes, and are then out again, the breakers still rolling overus. Our boat is unmanageable, but she cannot sink, and we drift downanother hundred yards, through breakers; how, we scarcely know. We findthe other boats have turned into an eddy at the foot of the fall, andare waiting to catch us as we come, for the men have seen that our boatis swamped. They push out as we come near, and pull us in against thewall. We bail our boat, and 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 theCapitol Park, and measure this distance overhead, and imagine cliffs toextend to that altitude, and you will understand what I mean; or, standat Canal Street, in New York, and look up Broadway to Grace Church, andyou have about the distance; or, stand at Lake Street Bridge in Chicago, and look down 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. Thegorge is black and narrow below, red and gray and flaring above, withcrags and angular projections on the walls, which, cut in many places byside cañons, seem to be a vast wilderness of rocks. Down in these grand, gloomy depths we glide, ever listening, for the mad waters keep up theirroar; ever watching, ever peering ahead, for the narrow cañon iswinding, and the river is closed in so that we can see but a fewhundred yards, and what there may be below we know not; but we listenfor falls, and watch for rocks, or stop now and then, in the bay of arecess, to admire the gigantic scenery. And ever, as we go, there issome new pinnacle or tower, some crag or peak, some distant view of theupper plateau, some strange-shaped rock, or some deep, narrow sidecañon. Then we come to another broken fall, which appears more difficultthan the one we ran this morning. 

A small creek comes in on the right, and the first fall of the water isover boulders, which have been carried down by this lateral stream. Weland at its mouth, and stop for an hour or two to examine the fall. Itseems possible to let down with lines, at least a part of the way, frompoint to point, along the right-hand wall. So we make a portage over thefirst rocks, and find footing on some boulders below. Then we let downone of the boats to the end of her line, when she reaches a corner ofthe projecting rock, to which one of the men clings, and steadies her, while I examine an eddy below. I think we can pass the other boats downby us, and catch them in the eddy. This is soon done and the men in theboats in the eddy pull us to their side. On the shore of this littleeddy there is about two feet of gravel beach above the water. Standingon this beach, some of the men take the line of the little boat and letit drift down against another projecting angle. Here is a little shelf, on which a man from my boat climbs, and a shorter line is passed to him, and he fastens the boat to the side of the cliff. Then the second oneis let down, bringing the line of the third. When the second boat istied up, the two men standing on the beach above spring into the lastboat, which is pulled up alongside of ours. Then we let down the boats, for twenty-five or thirty yards, by walking along the shelf, landingthem again in the mouth of a side cañon. Just below this there isanother pile of boulders, over which we make another portage. From thefoot of these rocks we can climb to another shelf, forty or fifty feetabove the water. 

On this beach we camp for the night. We find a few sticks, which havelodged in the rocks. It is raining hard, and we have no shelter, butkindle a fire and have our supper. We sit on the rocks all night, wrapped in our ponchos, getting what sleep we can. 

_August 15. _ This morning we find we can let down for three or fourhundred yards, and it is managed in this way: We pass along the wall byclimbing from projecting point to point, sometimes near the water'sedge, at other places fifty or sixty feet above, and hold the boat witha line, while two men remain aboard, and prevent her from being dashedagainst the rocks, and keep the line from getting caught in the wall. Intwo hours we have brought them all down, as far as it is possible, inthis way. A few yards below, the river strikes with great violenceagainst a projecting rock, and our boats are pulled up in a little bayabove. We must now manage to pull out of this, and clear the pointbelow. The little boat is held by the bow obliquely up the stream. Wejump in, and pull out only a few strokes, and sweep clear of thedangerous rock. The other boats follow in the same manner, and the rapidis passed. 

It is not easy to describe the labour of such navigation. We mustprevent the waves from dashing the boats against the cliffs. Sometimes, where the river is swift, we must put a bight of rope about a rock, toprevent her 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 shesinks. 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 passthe channel in safety. And so we hold, and let go, and pull, and lift, and ward, among rocks, around rocks, and over rocks. 

And now we go on through this solemn, mysterious way. The river is verydeep, the cañon very narrow, and still obstructed, so that there is nosteady flow of the stream; but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil, andwe are scarcely able to determine where we can go. Now, the boat iscarried to the right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she is shot intothe stream, and perhaps is dragged over to the other side, where, caughtin a whirlpool, she spins about. We can neither land nor run as weplease. The boats are entirely unmanageable; no order in their runningcan be preserved; now one, now another, is ahead, each crew labouringfor its own preservation. In such a place we come to another rapid. Twoof the boats run it perforce. One succeeds in landing, but there is nofoothold by which to make a portage, and she is pushed out again intothe stream. The next minute a great reflex wave fills the opencompartment; she is water-logged, and drifts unmanageable. Breaker afterbreaker roll over her, and one capsizes her. The men are thrown out; butthey cling to the boat, and she drifts down some distance, alongside ofus, and we are able to catch her. She is soon bailed out, and the menare aboard once more; but the oars are lost, so a pair from the _EmmaDean_ is spared. Then for two miles we find smooth water. 

Clouds are playing in the cañon to-day. Sometimes they roll down ingreat masses, filling the gorge with gloom; sometimes they hang above, from wall to wall, and cover the cañon with a roof of impending storm;and we can peer long distances up and down this cañon corridor, with itscloud roof overhead, its walls of black granite, and its river brightwith the sheen of broken waters. Then, a gust of wind sweeps down a sidegulch, and, making a rift in the clouds, reveals the blue heavens, and astream of sunlight pours in. Then, the clouds drift away into thedistance, and hang around crags, and peaks, and pinnacles, and towers, and walls, and cover them with a mantle that lifts from time to time, and sets them all in sharp relief. Then, baby clouds creep out of sidecañons, glide around points, and creep back again into more distantgorges. Then, clouds, set in strata across the cañon, with interveningvista views, to cliffs and rocks beyond. The clouds are children of theheavens, and when they play among the rocks they lift them to the regionabove. 

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 cañon a side gulch is dangerous, for a sudden flood may come, and the inpouring water will raise the river, so as to hide the rocksbefore your eyes. 

Early in the afternoon we discover a stream, entering from the north, aclear, beautiful creek, coming down through a gorgeous red cañon. 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, which arepoured over the walls, have brought down great quantities of mud, makingit exceedingly 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 honour of the great chief of the "Bad Angels, "and, as this is in beautiful contrast to that, we conclude to name it"Bright Angel. "

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 havepassed over many cataracts and falls, for it bears scars in evidence ofthe rough usage it has received. The men roll it on skids, and the workof 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 cañon, until it reaches the river. 

[Illustration: Fig. 30. --Mu-av Cañon, a side gorge]

Late in the afternoon I return, and go up a little gulch, just abovethis creek, and about two hundred yards from camp, and discover theruins of two or three old houses, which were originally of stone, laidin mortar. Only the foundations are left, but irregular blocks, of whichthe houses were constructed, lie scattered about. In one room I find anold mealing stone, deeply worn, as if it had been much used. A greatdeal of pottery is strewn around, and old trails, which in some placesare deeply 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 Oraiby, 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 such spots?Surely, the country was not so crowded with population as to demand theutilization of so barren a region. The only solution of the problemsuggested is this: We know that, for a century or two after thesettlement of Mexico, many expeditions were sent into the country, nowcomprised in 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 whoinhabit the _pueblos_ that still remain that the cañons were theseunknown lands. Maybe these buildings were erected at that time; sure itis that they have a much more modern appearance than the ruins scatteredover Nevada, 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 expresshis conception of the demands of the conquerors. In one part of thepicture we have a lake, and near by stands a priest pouring water on thehead of a native. On the other side, a poor Indian has a cord about histhroat. Lines run from these two groups to a central figure, a man withbeard and full Spanish panoply. The interpretation of thepicture-writing is this: "Be baptized, as this saved heathen; or behanged, as that damned heathen. " Doubtless, some of these peoplepreferred a third alternative, and, rather than be baptized or hanged, they chose to be imprisoned within these cañon walls. 

_August 17. _ Our rations are still spoiling; the bacon is so badlyinjured that we are compelled to throw it away. By accident, thismorning, the saleratus is lost overboard. We have now only musty floursufficient for ten days, a few dried apples, but plenty of coffee. Wemust make all haste possible. If we meet with difficulties, as we havedone in the cañon above, we may be compelled to give up the expedition, and try to reach the Mormon settlements to the north. Our hopes are thatthe worst places are passed, but our barometers are all so much injuredas to be useless, so we have lost our reckoning in altitude, and knownot 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, where we can see the river below. Although veryanxious to advance, we are determined to run with great caution, lest, by another accident, we lose all our supplies. How precious that littleflour has become! We divide it among the boats, and carefully store itaway, so that 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°, so that wehave rapid changes from great extremes, which are very disagreeable. Itis especially cold in the rain to-night. The little canvas we have isrotten and useless; the rubber ponchos, with which we started from GreenRiver City, have all been lost; more than half the party is withouthats, and not one of us has an entire suit of clothes, and we have not ablanket 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-coloured 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 cañon abovethan below. All about me are interesting geological records. The book isopen, and I can read as I run. All about me are grand views, 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 is but half seen. 

I push on to an angle, where I hope to get a view of the country beyond, to see, if possible, what the prospect may be of our soon runningthrough this plateau, or, at least, of meeting with some geologicalchange that will let us out of the granite; but, arriving at the point, I can see below only a labyrinth of deep gorges. 

_August 19. _ Rain again this morning. Still we are in our graniteprison, and the time is occupied until noon in making a long, badportage. 

After dinner, in running a rapid, the pioneer boat is upset by a wave. We are some distance in advance of the larger boats, the river is roughand swift, and we are unable to land, but cling to the boat, and arecarried down stream over another rapid. The men in the boats above seeour trouble, but they are caught in whirlpools, and are spinning aboutin eddies, and it seems a long time before they come to our relief. Atlast they do come; our boat is turned right side up, bailed out; theoars, which fortunately have floated along in company with us, aregathered up, and on we go, without even landing. 

Soon after the accident the clouds break away, and we have sunshineagain. 

Soon we find a little beach, with just room enough to land. Here wecamp, but there is no wood. Across the river, and a little way above, wesee some driftwood lodged in the rocks. So we bring two boatloads 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 cañon change this morning. Theriver is broader, the walls more sloping, and composed of black slates, that 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 Cañon. 

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 in a little naturalshelf in the rock, back of the ruins, we find a globular basket, thatwould hold perhaps a third of a bushel. It is badly broken, and, as Iattempt to take it up, it falls to pieces. There are many beautifulflint-chips, 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. Aquarter of a mile below camp the river turns abruptly to the left, andbetween camp and that point is very swift, running down in a long, broken chute, and piling up against the foot of the cliff, where itturns to the left. We try to pull across, so as to go down on the otherside, but the waters are swift, and it seems impossible for us to escapethe rock below; but, in pulling across, the bow of the boat is turned tothe farther shore, so that we are swept broadside down, and areprevented, by the rebounding waters, from striking against the wall. There we toss about for a few seconds in these billows, and are carriedpast the danger. Below, the river turns again to the right, the cañon isvery narrow, and we see in advance but a short distance. The water, too, is very swift, and there is no landing-place. From around this curvethere comes a mad roar, and down we are earned, with a dizzyingvelocity, to the head of another rapid. On either side, high over ourheads, there are overhanging granite walls, and the sharp bends cut offour view, so that a few minutes will carry us into unknown waters. Awaywe go, on one long winding chute. I stand on deck, supporting myselfwith a strap, fastened on either side to the gunwale, and the boatglides rapidly, where the water is smooth, or, striking a wave, sheleaps and bounds like a thing of life, and we have a wild, exhilaratingride for ten miles, which we make in less than an hour. The excitementis so great that we forget the danger, until we hear the roar of a greatfall below; then we back on our oars, and are carried slowly towards itshead, and succeed in landing just above, and find that we have to makeanother portage. At this we are engaged 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 cheerreturns; we forget the storms, and the gloom, and cloud-covered cañons, and the black granite, and the raging river, and push our boats fromshore 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 come, and see the granite again, with its narrowgorge and black crags; but we meet with no more great falls or rapids. Still, we run cautiously, and stop, from time to time, to examine someplaces which look bad. Yet, we make ten miles this afternoon; twentymiles, 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 torock, with lines, for nearly half a mile, and then have to make a longportage. While the men are engaged in this, I climb the wall on thenortheast, to a height of about 2, 500 feet, where I can obtain a goodview of a long stretch of cañon below. Its course is to the southwest. The walls seem to rise very abruptly, for 2, 500 or 3, 000 feet, and thenthere is a gently sloping terrace, on each side, for two or three miles, and again we find cliffs, 1, 500 or 2, 000 feet high. From the brink ofthese the plateau stretches back to the north and south, for a longdistance. Away down the cañon, on the right wall, I can see a group ofmountains, some of which appear to stand on the brink of the cañon. Theeffect of the terrace is to give the appearance of a narrow, windingvalley, with high walls on either side, and a deep, dark, meanderinggorge down its middle. It is impossible, from this point of view, todetermine whether we have granite at the bottom or not; but, fromgeological considerations, I conclude that we shall have marble wallsbelow. 

After my return to the boats, we run another mile and camp for thenight. 

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 take aplunge in to my neck; in other places being compelled to swim acrosslittle basins that have been excavated at the foot of the falls. Alongits course 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 a hundred and fifty feet, and climbaround it to the right, on the broken rocks. Still going up, I find thecañon narrowing very much, being but fifteen or twenty feet wide; yetthe walls rise on either side 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, and find the men 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 a hundred feet, forming abeautiful cascade. There is a bed of very hard rock above, thirty orforty feet in thickness, and 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 crevice aboveinto a deep pool below. Around on the rocks, in the cave-like chamber, are set beautiful ferns, with delicate fronds and enamelled stalks. Thelittle frondlets have their points turned down, to form spore cases. Ithas very much the appearance of the maiden's hair fern, but is muchlarger. This delicate foliage covers the rocks all about the fountain, and gives the chamber great beauty. But we have little time to spend inadmiration, so on we go. 

We make fine progress this afternoon, carried along by a swift river, and shoot over the rapids, finding no serious obstructions. 

The cañon walls, for 2, 500 or 3, 000 feet, are very regular, risingalmost perpendicularly, 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 ourreckoning, we have run twenty-two miles. 

_August 24. _ The cañon is wider to-day. The walls rise to a verticalheight of nearly 3, 000 feet. In many places the river runs under acliff, in great curves, forming amphitheatres, half-dome shaped. 

Though the river is rapid, we meet with no serious obstructions, and runtwenty miles. It is curious how anxious we are to make-up our reckoningevery time we stop, now that our diet is confined to plenty of coffee, very little spoiled flour, and very few dried apples. It has come to bea race for a dinner. Still, we make such fine progress, all hands are ingood cheer, but not a moment of daylight is lost. 

_August 25. _ We make twelve miles this morning, when we come tomonuments of lava, standing in the river; low rocks mostly, but some ofthem shafts more than a hundred feet high. Going on down, three or fourmiles, we find them increasing in number. Great quantities of cooledlava and many cinder cones are seen on either side; and then we come toan abrupt cataract. Just over the fall, on the right wall, a cindercone, or extinct volcano, with a well-defined crater, stands on the verybrink of the cañon. This, doubtless, is the one we saw two or threedays ago. From this volcano vast floods of lava have been poured intothe river, and a stream of the molten rock has run up the cañon, threeor four miles, and down, we know not how far. Just where it poured overthe cañon wall is the fall. The whole north side, as far as we can see, is lined with the black basalt, and high up on the opposite wall arepatches of the same material, resting on the benches, and filling oldalcoves and caves, giving to the wall a spotted appearance. 

The rocks are broken in two, along a line which here crosses the river, and the beds, which we have seen coming down the cañon for the lastthirty miles, have dropped eight hundred feet, on the lower side of theline, forming what geologists call a fault. The volcanic cone standsdirectly over the fissure thus formed. On the side of the riveropposite, mammoth springs burst out of this crevice, one or two hundredfeet above the river, pouring in a stream quite equal in volume to theColorado 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, and 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 cañon wasdoubtless filled to a height of twelve or fifteen hundred feet, perhapsby more than one flood. This would dam the water back; and in cuttingthrough this great lava bed, a new channel has been formed, sometimes onone side, sometimes on the other. The cooled lava, being of firmertexture than the rocks of which the walls are composed, remains in someplaces; in others a narrow channel has been cut, leaving a line ofbasalt on either side. It is possible that the lava cooled faster on thesides against the walls, and that the centre ran out; but of this we canonly conjecture. There are other places, where almost the whole of thelava is gone, patches of it only being seen where it has caught on thewalls. As we float down, we can see that it ran out into side cañons. Insome places this basalt has a fine, columnar structure, often inconcentric prisms, and masses of these concentric columns havecoalesced. In some places, where the flow occurred, the cañon wasprobably at about the same depth as it is now, for we can see where thebasalt has rolled out on the sands, and, what seems curious to me, thesands are not melted or metamorphosed to any appreciable extent. Inplaces the bed of the river is of sandstone or limestone, in otherplaces of lava, showing that it has all been cut out again where thesandstones and limestones appear; but there is a little yet left wherethe 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 meltedsnow. What a seething and boiling of the waters; what clouds of steamrolled into the heavens!

Thirty-five miles to-day. Hurrah!

_August 26. _ The cañon walls are steadily becoming higher as we advance. They are still bold, and nearly vertical up to the terrace. We still seeevidence of the eruption discovered yesterday, but the thickness of thebasalt is decreasing, as we go down the stream; yet it has beenreinforced at points by streams that have come from volcanoes standingon the terrace above, but which we cannot see from the river below. 

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 littlestream, with a narrow flood plain, comes down through a side cañon. Along the valley, the Indians have planted corn, using the water whichburst out in springs at the foot of the cliff for irrigation. The cornis looking quite well, but 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 tobe caught in the robbery, yet excusing ourselves by pleading our greatwant. We run down a short distance to where we feel certain no Indianscan 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 those stolensquashes. After dinner we push on again, making fine time, finding manyrapids, but none so bad that we cannot run them with safety, and when westop, just at dusk, and foot up our reckoning, we find that; we have runthirty-five miles again. 

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

A few days like this, and we are out of prison. 

_August 27. _ This morning the river takes a more southerly direction. The dip of the rocks is to the north, and we are rapidly running intolower formations. Unless our course changes, we shall very soon runagain into the granite. This gives us some anxiety. Now and then theriver turns to the west, and excites hopes that are soon destroyed byanother turn to the south. About nine o'clock we come to the dreadedrock. It is with no little misgiving that we see the river enter thoseblack, hard walls. At its very entrance we have to make a portage; thenwe have to let down with lines past some ugly rocks. Then we run a mileor two farther, and then the rapids below can be seen. 

About eleven o'clock we come to a place where it seems much worse thanany we have yet met in all its course. A little creek comes down fromthe left. We land first on the right, and clamber up over the granitepinnacles for a mile or two, but can see no way by which we can letdown, and to run it would be sure destruction. After dinner we cross toexamine it on the left. High above the river we can walk along on thetop of the granite, which is broken off at the edge, and set with cragsand pinnacles, so that it is very difficult to get a view of the riverat all. In my eagerness to reach a point where I can see the roaringfall below, I go too far on the wall, and can neither advance norretreat. I stand with one foot on a little projecting rock, and clingwith my hand fixed in a little crevice. Finding I am caught here, suspended four hundred feet above the river, into which I should fall ifmy footing fails, I call for help. The men come, and pass me a line, butI cannot let go of the rock long enough to take hold of it. Then theybring two or three of the largest oars. All this takes time which seemsvery precious to me; but at last they arrive. The blade of one of theoars is pushed into a little crevice in the rock beyond me, in such amanner that they can hold me pressed against the wall. Then another isfixed in such a way that I can 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 a damover which the water makes a broken fall of eighteen or twenty feet;then there is a rapid, beset with rocks, for two or three hundred yards, while, on the other side, points of the wall project into the river. Then there is a second fall below; how great, we cannot tell. Then thereis a rapid, filled with huge rocks, for one or two hundred yards. At thebottom of it, from the right wall, a great rock projects quite half-wayacross the river. It has a sloping surface extending upstream, and thewater, coming down with all the momentum gained in the falls and rapidsabove, rolls up this inclined plane many feet and tumbles over to theleft. I decide that it is possible to let down over the first fall, thenrun near the right cliff to a point just above the second, where we canpull out into a little chute, and, having run over that in safety, wemust pull with all our power across the stream, to avoid the great rockbelow. On my return to the boat, I announce to the men that we are torun it in the morning. Then we cross the river, and go down into campfor the night on some rocks, in the mouth of the little side cañon. 

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 hisbrother, William Dunn, and himself have determined to go no farther inthe 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 observations forlatitude, and find that the astronomic determination agrees very nearlywith that of the plot--quite as closely as might be expected, from ameridian observation on a planet. In a direct line, we must be aboutforty-five miles from the mouth of the Rio Virgen. If we can reach thatpoint, we know that there are settlements up that river about twentymiles. This forty-five miles, in a direct line, will probably be eightyor ninety in the meandering line of the river. But then we know thatthere is comparatively open country for many miles about the mouth ofthe Virgen, which is our point of destination. 

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 cañonseemed 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 cañon here, and, when at the top ofthe wall, I know enough of the country to be certain that it is a desertof rock and sand, between this and the nearest Mormon town, which, onthe most direct line, must be seventy-five miles away. True, the laterains have been favourable to us, should we go out, for theprobabilities are that we shall find water still standing in holes, and, at one time, I almost conclude to leave the river. But for years I havebeen contemplating this trip. To leave the exploration unfinished, tosay that there is a part of the cañon which I cannot explore, havingalready almost accomplished it, is more than I am willing toacknowledge, and I determine 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 agreeto go on. 

_August 28. _ At last daybreak 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 whatthey 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 our barometers, fossils, the minerals, and someammunition from the boat and leave them on the rocks. We are going overthis place as light as possible. The three men help us lift our boatsover a rock twenty-five or thirty feet high, and let them down againover the first fall, and now we are all ready to start. 

The last thing before leaving, I write a letter to my wife, and give itto Howland. Sumner gives him his watch, directing that it be sent to hissister, should he not be heard from again. The records of the expeditionhave been kept in duplicate. One set of these is given to Howland, andnow we are ready. For the last, time, they entreat us not to go on, andtell us that it is madness to set out in this place; that we can neverget safely through it; and, further, that the river turns again to thesouth into the granite, and a few miles of such rapids and falls willexhaust our entire stock of rations, and then it will be too late toclimb out. Some tears are shed; it is a rather solemn parting; eachparty thinks the other is taking the dangerous course. 

My old boat left, I go on board of the _Maid of the Cañon_. The threemen climb a crag, that overhangs the river, to watch us off. The _Maidof the Cañon_ 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 with more difficulty. We land at the firstpracticable point below and fire our guns as a signal to the men abovethat we have come over in safety. Here we remain a couple of hours, hoping that they will take the smaller boat and follow us. We are behinda curve in the cañon, and cannot see up to where we left them, and so wewait until their coming seems hopeless, and 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 two or three hundred yards and cross. Now there is a bed of basalt on this northern side of the cañon with abold escarpment, that seems to be a hundred feet high. We can climb it, and walk along its summit to a point where we are just at the head ofthe fall. 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 fall, and 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, find 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, andup as far as the line will permit, and then, wheeling, drives headlongagainst the rock, then out and back again, now straining on the line, now striking against the rock. As soon as the second line is brought, wepass it down to him; but his attention is all taken up with his ownsituation, and he does not see that we are passing the line to him. Istand on a projecting rock, waving my hat to gain his attention, for myvoice is drowned by the roaring of the falls. Just at this moment, I seehim take his knife from its sheath, and step forward to cut the line. Hehas evidently decided that it is better to go over with the boat as itis, 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 downstream, for he wishes to go bowdown, rather than to drift broadside on. One, two strokes he makes, anda third just as she goes over, and the boat is fairly turned, and shegoes 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. Bradleyis gone, so it seems. But now, away below, we see something coming outof the waves. It is evidently a boat. A moment more, and we see Bradleystanding on deck, swinging his hat to show that he is all right. But heis in a whirlpool. We have the stem post of his boat attached to theline. How badly she may be disabled we know not. I direct Sumner andPowell to pass along the cliff, and see if they can reach him frombelow. Rhodes, Hall, and myself run to the other boat, jump aboard, pushout, and away we go over the falls. A wave rolls over us, and our boatis unmanageable. Another great wave strikes us, the boat rolls over, andtumbles and tosses, I know not how. All I know is that Bradley ispicking us up. We soon have all right again, and row to the cliff, andwait until Sumner and Powell can come. After a difficult climb theyreach us. We run two or three miles farther, and turn again to thenorthwest, continuing until night, when we have run out of the graniteonce 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 Cañon of the Colorado. 

We are in a valley now, and low mountains are seen in the distance, coming to the river below. 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 mouth of the Grand Wash, wherethey divided, a portion of the party crossing the river to explore theSan Francisco Mountains. Three men--Hamblin, Miller, and Crosby--takingthe boat, went on down the river to Callville, landing a few miles belowthe mouth of the Rio Virgen. We have their manuscript journal with us, and so the stream is comparatively well known. 

To-night we camp on the left bank in a mesquit 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 anæsthetic drugs has filled the air with its loathsomeburthen, at last goes into the open field, what a world he sees! Howbeautiful the sky; how bright the sunshine; what "floods of deliriousmusic" pour from the throats of birds; how sweet the fragrance of earthand tree, and blossom! The first hour of convalescent freedom seems richrecompense for all--pain, gloom, terror. 

Something like this are the feelings we experience to-night. Ever beforeus has been an unknown danger, heavier than immediate peril. Everywaking hour passed in the Grand Cañon has been one of toil. We havewatched 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 ahungered. And danger and toilwere endured in those gloomy depths, where ofttimes the 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 labour, 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 Cañon, talking of home, but chiefly talking 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 two or three short, low cañons to-day, and onemerging from one, we discover a band of Indians in the valley below. They see us, and scamper away in most eager haste, to hide among therocks. Although we land, and call for them to return, not an Indian canbe seen. 

Two or three miles farther down, in turning a short bend in 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 flee to the rocks, except a man, awoman, and two children. We land, and talk with them. They are withoutlodges, but have built little shelters of boughs, under which theywallow in the sand. The man is dressed in a hat; the woman in a stringof beads only. At first they are evidently much terrified; but when Italk to them in their own language, and tell them we are friends, andinquire after people in the Mormon towns, they are soon reassured, andbeg for tobacco. Of this precious article we have none to spare. Sumnerlooks around in the boat for something to give them, and finds a littlepiece of coloured soap, which they receive as a valuable present, ratheras a thing of beauty than as a useful commodity, however. They areeither unwilling or unable to tell us anything about the Indians orwhite people, and so we push off, for we must lose no time. 

We camp at noon under the right bank. And now, as we push out, we arein great expectancy, for we hope every minute to discover the mouth ofthe Rio Virgen. 

Soon one of the men exclaims: "Yonder's an Indian in the river. " Lookingfor a few minutes, we certainly do see two or three persons. The menbend to their oars, and pull toward them. Approaching, we see that thereare three white men and an Indian hauling a seine, and then we discoverthat 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, they tell us that we have been reported lost long ago, and that someweeks before, a messenger had been sent from Salt Lake City, withinstructions for them to watch for any fragments or relics of our partythat might drift 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 twenty miles up the valley of the Rio Virgen there are twoMormon towns, St. Joseph and St. Thomas. To-night we despatch an Indianto the last mentioned place, to bring any letters that may be there forus. 

Our arrival here is very opportune. When we look over our store ofsupplies, we find about ten pounds of flour, fifteen pounds of driedapples, but seventy or eighty pounds of coffee. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Geologists would call these rocks metamorphic crystalline schists, with dikes and beds of granite, but we will use the popular name for thewhole series--granite. 

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Obvious printer's errors, including punctuation have been silentlycorrected. Hyphenated and accented words have been standardized. 

Page 18--"Peter Martyr tell us... " changed to "PeterMartyr tells us... "

Page 69--satisfacton changed to satisfaction. 

Page 99--oppossed changed to opposed. 

Page 101--nihgt changed to night. 

Page 127--connonade changed to cannonade.