By F. S. DELLENBAUGH The North-Americans of Yesterday A Comparative Study of North-American Indian Life, Customs, and Products, on the Theory of the Ethnic Unity of the Race. 8º. Fully illustrated. Net, $4. 00 The Romance of the Colorado River A Complete Account of the Discovery and of the Explorations from 1540 to the Present Time, with Particular Reference to the Two Voyages of Powell through the Line of the Great Canyons. 8º. Fully illustrated. Net, $3. 50 Breaking the Wilderness The Story of the Conquest of the Far West, from the Wanderings of Cabeza de Vaca to the First Descent of the Colorado by Powell, and the Completion of the Union Pacific Railway, with Particular Account of the Exploits of Trappers and Traders. 8º. Fully illustrated. Net, $3. 50 A Canyon Voyage The Narrative of the Second Powell Expedition down the Green-Colorado River from Wyoming, and the Explorations on Land in the Years 1871 and 1872. 8º. Fully illustrated. Net, $3. 50 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONSNEW YORK LONDON [Illustration: The Grand Canyon Looking south from the Kaibab Plateau, North Rim, near the head ofBright Angel Creek, the canyon of which is seen in the foreground. TheSan Francisco Mountains are in the distance. On the South Rim to theright, out of the picture, is the location of the Hotel Tovar. Thewidth of the canyon at the top in this region is about twelve miles, with a depth of near 6000 feet on the north side, and over 5000 on thesouth. Total length, including Marble Canyon division, 283 miles. Sketch made in colour on the spot by F. S. Dellenbaugh, June 4, 1903. ] A Canyon Voyage The Narrative of the Second Powell Expedition down the Green-Colorado River from Wyoming, and the Explorations on Land, in the Years 1871 and 1872 By Frederick S. Dellenbaugh Artist and Assistant Topographer of the Expedition "Come on, sir; here's the place. Stand still. How fearful And dizzy 't is to cast one's eyes so low!" _King Lear. _ With Fifty Illustrations G. P. Putnam's Sons New York and London The Knickerbocker Press 1908 Copyright, 1908byFREDERICK S. DELLENBAUGH The Knickerbocker Press, New York TOH. O. D. MY COMPANIONON THEVOYAGE OF LIFE. PREFACE This volume presents the narrative, from my point of view, of animportant government expedition of nearly forty years ago: an expeditionwhich, strangely enough, never before has been fully treated. In fact inall these years it never has been written about by any one besidesmyself, barring a few letters in 1871 from Clement Powell, through hisbrother, to the Chicago _Tribune_, and an extremely brief mention byMajor Powell, its organiser and leader, in a pamphlet entitled _Reportof Explorations in 1873 of the Colorado of the West and itsTributaries_ (Government Printing Office, 1874). In my history, _TheRomance of the Colorado River_, of which this is practically volume two, I gave a synopsis, and in several other places I have written incondensed form concerning it; but the present work for the first timegives the full story. In 1869, Major Powell made his famous first descent of theGreen-Colorado River from the Union Pacific Railway in Wyoming to themouth of the Virgin River in Nevada, a feat of exploration unsurpassed, perhaps unequalled, on this continent. Several of the upper canyons hadbeen before penetrated, but a vague mystery hung over even these, andthere was no recorded, or even oral, knowledge on the subject whenPowell turned his attention to it. There was a tale that a man namedJames White had previously descended through the great canyons, but Mr. Robert Brewster Stanton has thoroughly investigated this and definitelyproven it to be incorrect. Powell's first expedition was designed as anexploration to cover ten months, part of which was to be in winterquarters; circumstances reduced the time to three. It was also more orless of a private venture with which the Government of the United Stateshad nothing to do. It became necessary to supplement it then by a secondexpedition, herein described, which Congress supported, with, of course, Major Powell in charge, and nominally under the direction of theSmithsonian Institution, of which Professor Henry was then Secretary andProfessor Baird his able coadjutor, the latter taking the deeperinterest in this venture. Powell reported through the Smithsonian; thatwas about all there was in the way of control. The material collected by this expedition was utilised in preparing thewell-known report by Major Powell, _Exploration of the Colorado River ofthe West, 1869-1872_, the second party having continued the workinaugurated by the first and enlarged upon it, but receiving no creditin that or any other government publication. As pointed out in the text of this work, a vast portion of the basin ofthe Colorado was a complete blank on the maps until our partyaccomplished its end; even some of the most general features were beforethat not understood. No canyon above the Virgin had been recordedtopographically, and the physiography was unknown. The record of thefirst expedition is one of heroic daring, and it demonstrated that theriver could be descended throughout in boats, but unforeseen obstaclesprevented the acquisition of scientific data which ours was speciallyplanned to secure in the light of the former developments. The map, thehypsometric and hydrographic data, the geologic sections and geologicdata, the photographs, ethnography, and indeed about all the firstinformation concerning the drainage area in question were the results ofthe labours of the second expedition. Owing, perhaps, to Major Powell'sconsidering our work merely in the line of routine survey, no specialrecord, as mentioned above, was ever made of the second expedition. Weinherited from the first a plat of the river itself down to the mouth ofthe Paria, which, according to Professor Thompson, was fairly good, butwe did not rely on it; from the mouth of the Paria to Catastrophe Rapid, the point below Diamond Creek where the Howlands and Dunn separated fromthe boat party, a plat that was broken in places. This was approximatelycorrect as far as Kanab Canyon, though not so good as above the Paria. From the Kanab Canyon, where we ended our work with the boats, to themouth of the Virgin we received fragments of the course owing to themistake made in dividing the notes at the time of the separation; adivision decided on because each group thought the other doomed todestruction. Thus Howland took out with him parts of both copies whichwere destroyed by the Shewits when they killed the men. After Howland'sdeparture, the Major ran in the course to the mouth of the Virgin. Professor Thompson was confident that our plat of the course, which isthe basis of all maps to-day, is accurate from the Union Pacific Railwayin Wyoming to Catastrophe Rapid, for though we left the river at theKanab Canyon, we were able by our previous and subsequent work on landto verify the data of the first party and to fill in the blanks, but hefelt ready to accept corrections below Catastrophe Rapid to the Virgin. For a list of the canyons, height of walls, etc. , I must refer to theappendix in my previous volume. While two names cover the canyon fromthe Paria to the Grand Wash, the gorge is practically one with a totallength of 283 miles. I have not tried to give geological data for theseare easily obtainable in the reports of Powell, Dutton, Gilbert, Walcott, and others, and I lacked space to introduce them properly. Infact I have endeavored to avoid a mere perfunctory record, full of datawell stated elsewhere. While trying to give our daily experiences andactual camp life in a readable way, I have adhered to accuracy ofstatement. I believe that any one who wishes to do so can use this bookas a guide for navigating the river as far as Kanab Canyon. I have notrelied on memory but have kept for continual reference at my elbow notonly my own careful diary of the journey, but also the manuscript diaryof Professor Thompson, and a typewritten copy of the diary of John F. Steward as far as the day of his departure from our camp. I have alsoconsulted letters that I wrote home at the time and to the Buffalo_Express_, and a detailed draft of events up to the autumn of 1871 whichI prepared in 1877 when all was still vividly fresh in mind. Inaddition, I possess a great many letters which Professor Thompson wroteme up to within a few weeks of his death (July, 1906), often in reply toquestions I raised on various points that were not clear to me. Eachmember of the party I have called by the name familiarly used on theexpedition, for naturally there was no "Mistering" on a trip of thiskind. Powell was known throughout the length and breadth of the RockyMountain Region as "the Major, " while Thompson was quite as widely knownas "Prof. " Some of the geographic terms, like Dirty Devil River, UnknownMountains, etc. , were those employed before permanent names wereadopted. In my other books I have used the term Amerind for AmericanIndian, and I intend to continue its use, but in the pages of thisvolume, being a narrative, and the word not having been used or known tous at that time, it did not seem exactly appropriate. Some readers may wish to provide themselves with full maps of the courseof the river, and I will state that the U. S. Geological Survey haspublished map-sheets each 20 by 16-1/2 inches, of the whole course ofthe Green-Colorado. These sheets are sent to any person desiring themwho remits the price, five cents the sheet, by post-office money orderaddressed: "Director U. S. Geological Survey, Washington, D. C. , " withthe names of the sheets wanted. The names of the seventeen sheetscovering the canyoned part are: Green River(?), Ashley, Yampa, (?) PriceRiver, East Tavaputs, San Rafael, La Sal, Henry Mountains, Escalante, Echo Cliffs, San Francisco Mountains, Kaibab, Mount Trumbull, Chino, Diamond Creek, St. Thomas, and Camp Mohave. Several parties have tried the descent through the canyons since ourvoyage. Some have been successful, some sadly disastrous. The river isalways a new problem in its details, though the general conditionsremain the same. Major Powell was a man of prompt decision, with a cool, comprehensive, far-reaching mind. He was genial, kind, never despondent, alwaysresolute, resourceful, masterful, determined to overcome every obstacle. To him alone belongs the credit for solving the problem of the greatcanyons, and to Professor Thompson that for conducting most successfullythe geographic side of the work under difficulties that can hardly beappreciated in these days when survey work is an accepted item ofgovernment expenditure and Congress treats it with an open hand. I am indebted to Mr. Robert Brewster Stanton, who completed the BrownExpedition triumphantly, for valuable information and photographs andfor many interesting conversations comparing his experiences with ours;to the Geological Survey for maps and for the privilege of usingphotographs from negatives in the possession of the Survey; and to Mr. John K. Hillers for making most of the prints used in illustrating thisbook. My thanks are due to Brigadier-General Mackenzie, U. S. Engineers, for copies of rare early maps of the region embraced in our operations, now nearly impossible to obtain. In 1902 when I informed Major Powell that I was preparing my history ofthe Colorado River, he said he hoped that I would put on record thesecond trip and the men who were members of that expedition, which Iaccordingly did. He never ceased to take a lively interest in myaffairs, and the year before he wrote me: "I always delight in yoursuccesses and your prosperity, and I ever cherish the memory of thosedays when we were on the great river together. " Professor Thompson onlya month before he died sent me a letter in which he said: "You are heirto all the Colorado material and I am getting what I have together. "These sentiments cause me to feel like an authorised and rightfulhistorian of the expedition with which I was so intimately connected, and I sincerely hope that I have performed my task in a way that wouldmeet the approval of my old leader and his colleague, as well as of myother comrades. One learns microscopically the inner nature of hiscompanions on a trip of this kind, and I am happy to avow that a finerset of men could not have been selected for the trying work which theyaccomplished with unremitting good-nature and devotion, withoutpecuniary reward. Professor Thompson possessed invaluable qualities forthis expedition: rare balance of mind, great cheerfulness, and a sunnyway of looking on difficulties and obstacles as if they were mereproblems in chess. His foresight and resourcefulness were phenomenal, and no threatening situation found him without some good remedy. Some of the illustrations in Powell's _Report_ are misleading, and Ifeel it my duty to specially note three of them. The one opposite page 8shows boats of the type we used on the second voyage with a middlecabin. The boats of the first expedition had cabins only at the bow andstern. The picture of the wreck at Disaster Falls, opposite page 27, isnothing like the place, and the one opposite page 82 gives boats inimpossible positions, steered by rudders. A rudder is useless on such ariver. Long steering sweeps were used. Time's changes have come to pass. You may now go by a luxurious Santa Fétrain direct to the south rim of the greatest chasm of the series, theGrand Canyon, and stop there in a beautiful hotel surrounded by everycomfort, yet when we were making the first map no railway short ofDenver existed and there was but one line across the Rocky Mountains. Perhaps before many more years are gone we will see Mr. Stanton'sDenver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway accomplished through thecanyons, and if I then have not "crossed to Killiloo" I will surelyclaim a free pass over the entire length in defiance of allcommerce-regulating laws. Frederick S. Dellenbaugh. Cragsmoor, August, 1908 CONTENTS CHAPTER I A River Entrapped--Acquaintance not Desired--Ives Explores the Lower Reaches--Powell the Conqueror--Reason for a Second Descent--Congressional Appropriation--Preparation--The Three Boats--The Mighty Wilderness--Ready for the Start 1 CHAPTER II Into the Wilderness--The Order of Sailing--Tobacco for the Indians Comes Handy--A Lone Fisherman and Some Trappers--Jack Catches Strange Fish--The Snow-clad Uintas in View--A Larder Full of Venison--Entrance into Flaming Gorge 9 CHAPTER III The First Rapid--Horseshoe and Kingfisher Canyons--A Rough Entrance into Red Canyon--Capsize of the _Nell_--The Grave of a Bold Navigator--Discovery of a White Man's Camp--Good-bye to Frank--At the Gate of Lodore 19 CHAPTER IV Locked in the Chasm of Lodore--Rapids with Railway Speed--A Treacherous Approach to Falls of Disaster--Numerous Loadings and Unloadings--Over the Rocks with Cargoes--Library Increased by _Putnam's Magazine_--Triplet Falls and Hell's Half Mile--Fire in Camp--Exit from Turmoil to Peace 34 CHAPTER V A Remarkable Echo--Up the Canyon of the Yampa--Steward and Clem Try a Moonlight Swim--Whirlpool Canyon and Mountain Sheep--A Grand Fourth-of-July Dinner--A Rainbow-Coloured Valley--The Major Proceeds in Advance--A Split Mountain with Rapids a Plenty--Enter a Big Valley at Last 49 CHAPTER VI A Lookout for Redskins--The River a Sluggard--A Gunshot!--Someone Comes!--The Tale of a Mysterious Light--How, How! from Douglas Boy--At the Mouth of the Uinta--A Tramp to Goblin City and a Trip down White River on a Raft--A Waggon-load of Supplies from Salt Lake by Way of Uinta Agency--The Major Goes Out to Find a Way In 61 CHAPTER VII On to Battle--A Concert Repertory--Good-bye to Douglas Boy--The Busy, Busy Beaver--In the Embrace of the Rocks Once More--A Relic of the Cliff-Dwellers--Low Water and Hard Work--A Canyon of Desolation--Log-cabin Cliff--Rapids and Rapids and Rapids--A Horse, whose Horse?--Through Gray Canyon to the Rendezvous 72 CHAPTER VIII Return of the Major--Some Mormon Friends--No Rations at the Elusive Dirty Devil--Captain Gunnison's Crossing--An All-night Vigil for Cap. And Clem--The Land of a Thousand Cascades--A Bend Like a Bow-knot and a Canyon Labyrinthian--Cleaving an Unknown World--Signs of the Oldest Inhabitant--Through the Canyon of Stillwater to the Jaws of the Colorado 94 CHAPTER IX A Wonderland of Crags and Pinnacles--Poverty Rations--Fast and Furious Plunging Waters--Boulders Boom along the Bottom--Chilly Days and Shivering--A Wild Tumultuous Chasm--A Bad Passage by Twilight and a Tornado With a Picture Moonrise--Out of One Canyon into Another--At the Mouth of the Dirty Devil at Last 115 CHAPTER X The _Cañonita_ Left Behind--Shinumo Ruins--Troublesome Ledges in the River--Alcoves and Amphitheatres--The Mouth of the San Juan--Starvation Days and a Lookout for Rations--El Vado de Los Padres--White Men Again--Given up for Lost--Navajo Visitors--Peaks with a Great Echo--At the Mouth of the Paria 135 CHAPTER XI More Navajos Arrive with Old Jacob--The Lost Pack-train and a Famished Guide--From Boat to Broncho--On to Kanab--Winter Arrives--Wolf Neighbours too Intimate--Preparing for Geodetic Work--Over the Kaibab to Eight-mile Spring--A Frontier Town--Camp below Kanab--A Mormon Christmas Dance 152 CHAPTER XII Reconnoitring and Triangulating--A Pai Ute New Year's Dance--The Major Goes to Salt Lake--Snowy Days on the Kaibab--At Pipe Spring--Gold Hunters to the Colorado--Visits to the Uinkaret County--Craters and Lava--Finding the Hurricane Ledge--An Interview with a Cougar--Back to Kanab 174 CHAPTER XIII Off for the Unknown Country--A Lonely Grave--Climbing a Hog-back to a Green Grassy Valley--Surprising a Ute Camp--Towich-a-tick-a-boo--Following a Blind Trail--The Unknown Mountains Become Known--Down a Deep Canyon--To the Paria with the _Cañonita_--John D. Lee and Lonely Dell 195 CHAPTER XIV A Company of Seven--The _Nellie Powell_ Abandoned--Into Marble Canyon--Vasey's Paradise--A Furious Descent to the Little Colorado--A Mighty Fall in the Dismal Granite Gorge--Caught in a Trap--Upside Down--A Deep Plunge and a Predicament--At the Mouth of the Kanab 215 CHAPTER XV A New Departure--Farewell to the Boats--Out to the World Through Kanab Canyon--A Midnight Ride--At the Innupin Picavu--Prof. Reconnoitres the Shewits Country--Winter Quarters in Kanab--Making the Preliminary Map--Another New Year--Across a High Divide in a Snow-storm--Down the Sevier in Winter--The Last Summons 242 Index 269 ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE The Grand Canyon _Frontispiece_ Looking south from the Kaibab Plateau, North Rim, near the head of Bright Angel Creek, the canyon of which is seen in the foreground. The San Francisco Mountains are in the distance. On the South Rim to the right, out of the picture, is the location of the Hotel Tovar. The width of the canyon at top in this region is about twelve miles, with a depth of near 6000 feet on the north side, and over 5000 on the south. Total length, including Marble Canyon division, 283 miles. Sketch made in colour on the spot by F. S. Dellenbaugh, June 4, 1903. The Toll 1 Unidentified skeleton found April, 1906, by C. C. Spaulding in the Grand Canyon 300 feet above the river, some miles below Bright Angel trail. There were daily papers in the pocket of the clothes of the early spring of 1900. Photograph by Kolb Bros. 1906, Grand Canyon, Arizona. Red Canyon 6 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Before the Start at Green River City, Wyoming 9 The dark box open. Andy, Clem, Beaman, Prof. Steward, Cap. , Frank, Jones, Jack, the Major, Fred, _Cañonita_, _Emma Dean_, _Nellie Powell_. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Flaming Gorge 17 The beginning of the Colorado River Canyons, N. E. Utah. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Horseshoe Canyon 21 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Red Canyon 25 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Red Canyon 28 Ashley Falls from below. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. In Red Canyon Park 29 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. The Head of the Canyon of Lodore 34 Just inside the gate. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Canyon of Lodore 37 Low water. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1874. The Heart of Lodore 40 F. S. Dellenbaugh. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Canyon of Lodore--Dunn's Cliff 43 2800 feet above river. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Canyon of Lodore 44 Jones, Hillers, Dellenbaugh. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Echo Park 49 Mouth of Yampa River in foreground, Green River on right. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Whirlpool Canyon 54 Mouth of Bishop Creek--Fourth of July camp. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Split Mountain Canyon 59 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Canyon of Desolation 81 Steward. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Colorado River White Salmon 98 Photograph by the Denver, Colorado Canyon and Pacific Railway Survey under Robert Brewster Stanton, 1889. Dellenbaugh Butte 102 Near mouth of San Rafael. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Labyrinth Canyon--Bowknot Bend 108 The great loop is behind the spectator. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Stillwater Canyon 110 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Cataract Canyon 119 Clement Powell. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Cataract Canyon 128 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Narrow Canyon 133 Photograph by Best Expedition, 1891. Mouth of the Fremont River (Dirty Devil) 135 Photograph by the Brown Expedition, 1889. Glen Canyon 140 Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. Looking Down Upon Glen Canyon 142 Cut through homogeneous sandstone. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp. Tom 147 A typical Navajo. Tom became educated and no longer looked like an Indian. Photograph by Wittick. Glen Canyon 149 Sentinel Rock--about 300 feet high. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. The Grand Canyon 162 From Havasupai Point, South Rim, showing Inner Gorge. From a sketch in colour by F. S. Dellenbaugh, 1907. The Grand Canyon 168 From South Rim near Bright Angel Creek. The Grand Canyon 174 From part way down south side above Bright Angel Creek. Winsor Castle, the Defensive House at Pipe Springs 186 Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903. Little Zion Valley, or the Mookoontoweap, Upper Virgin River 186 Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903. In the Unknown Country 195 Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. Navajo Mountain From Near Kaiparowits Peak 201 Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. Tantalus Creek 206 Tributary of Fremont River. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. Example of Lakes on the Aquarius Plateau 211 Photograph by J. K. Hillers. The Grand Canyon 215 Near mouth of Shinumo Creek. The river is in flood and the water is "colorado. " Sketch made in colour on the spot by F. S. Dellenbaugh, July 26, 1907. Marble Canyon 219 Thompson. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. Canyon of the Little Colorado 222 Photograph by C. Barthelmess. The Grand Canyon 224 From just below the Little Colorado. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. The Grand Canyon 227 Running the Sockdologer. From a sketch afterwards by F. S. Dellenbaugh. The Grand Canyon 232 From top of Granite, south side near Bright Angel Creek. The Grand Canyon 238 Character of river in rapids. Photograph by F. S. Dellenbaugh, 1907. The Grand Canyon 242 At a rapid--low water. The Grand Canyon 248 At the bottom near foot of Bass Trail. The Grand Canyon 254 From north side near foot of Toroweap Valley, Uinkaret District. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. The Grand Canyon 258 Storm effect from South Rim. MAPS A. Map by the U. S. War Department, 1868. Supplied by the courtesy of General Mackenzie, U. S. A. , showing the knowledge of the Colorado River basin just before Major Powell began operations. The topography above the junction of the Green and Grand is largely pictorial and approximate. The white space from the San Rafael to the mouth of the Virgin is the unknown country referred to in this volume which was investigated in 1871-72-73. Preliminary maps B, C, and D at pages 244-46, and 207 respectively, partly give the results of the work which filled in this area. 95 B. Preliminary map of a portion of the southern part of the unknown country indicated by blank space on Map A, at page 95, showing the Hurricane Ledge, Uinkaret and Shewits Mountains and the course of the Grand Canyon from the mouth of Kanab Canyon to the Grand Wash. The Howlands and Dunn left the first expedition at Catastrophe Rapid at the sharp bend a few miles below the intersection of the river and longitude 113° 30', climbed out to the north and were killed near Mt. Dellenbaugh. 244 C. Preliminary map of a portion of the central part of the unknown country indicated by the blank space on Map A, at page 95, showing the Kaibab Plateau, mouth of the Paria, Echo Peaks, House Rock Valley and the course of part of Glen Canyon and of Marble Canyon and the Grand Canyon to the mouth of the Kanab Canyon. El Vado is at the western intersection of the 37th parallel and the Colorado River, and Kanab is in the upper left-hand corner of the map--just above the 37th parallel which is the boundary between Utah and Arizona. The words "Old Spanish Trail from Santa Fé to Los Angeles" near El Vado were added in Washington and are incorrect. The old Spanish trail crossed at Gunnison Crossing far north of this point which was barely known before 1858. 246 D. Preliminary map of a portion of the northern part of the unknown country indicated by the blank space on Map A, at page 95, showing the course of part of Glen Canyon, the mouth of the Fremont (Dirty Devil) River, the Henry (Unknown) Mountains, and the trail of the first known party of white men to cross this area. The Escalante River which was mistaken for the Dirty Devil enters the Colorado just above the first letter "o" of Colorado at the bottom of the map. The Dirty Devil enters from the north at the upper right-hand side. 207 E. Showing results of recent re-survey of part of the Grand Canyon near Bright Angel Creek by the Geological Survey with ample time for detail. Compare with Map C at page 246--the south end of Kaibab Plateau. 250 A CANYON VOYAGE CHAPTER I A River Entrapped--Acquaintance not Desired--Ives Explores the Lower Reaches--Powell the Conqueror--Reason for a Second Descent--Congressional Appropriation--Preparation--The Three Boats--The Mighty Wilderness--Ready for the Start. The upper continuation of the Colorado River of the West is Green Riverwhich heads in the Wind River Mountains at Frémont Peak. From this rangesouthward to the Uinta Mountains, on the southern boundary of Wyoming, the river flows through an open country celebrated in the early days ofWestern exploration and fur trading as "Green River Valley, " and at thatperiod the meeting ground and "rendezvous" of the various companies andorganisations, and of free trappers. By the year 1840 the vast regionwest of the Missouri had been completely investigated by the trappersand fur-hunters in the pursuit of trade, with the exception of theGreen-and-Colorado River from the foot of Green River Valley to thetermination of the now famous Grand Canyon of Arizona. The reason forthis exception was that at the southern extremity of Green River Valleythe solid obstacle of the Uinta Range was thrown in an easterly andwesterly trend directly across the course of the river, which, findingno alternative, had carved its way, in the course of a long geologicalepoch, through the foundations of the mountains in a series of gorgeswith extremely precipitous sides; continuous parallel cliffs betweenwhose forbidding precipices dashed the torrent towards the sea. Havingthus entrapped itself, the turbulent stream, by the configuration of thesucceeding region, was forced to continue its assault on the rocks, toreach the Gulf, and ground its fierce progress through canyon aftercanyon, with scarcely an intermission of open country, for a fullthousand miles from the beginning of its entombment, the entrance ofFlaming Gorge, at the foot of the historical Green River Valley. Somefew attempts had been made to fathom the mystery of this long series ofchasms, but with such small success that the exploration of the riverwas given up as too difficult and too dangerous. Ashley had gone throughRed Canyon in 1825 and in one of the succeeding winters of that period aparty had passed through Lodore on the ice. These trips proved that thecanyons were not the haunt of beaver, that the navigation of them wasvastly difficult, and that no man could tell what might befall in thosegorges further down, that were deeper, longer, and still more remotefrom any touch with the outer world. Indeed it was even reported thatthere were places where the whole river disappeared underground. TheIndians, as a rule, kept away from the canyons, for there was little toattract them. One bold Ute who attempted to shorten his trail by meansof the river, shortened it to the Happy Hunting Grounds immediately, andthere was nothing in his fate to inspire emulation. The years then wore on and the Colorado remained unknown through itscanyon division. Ives had come up to near the mouth of the Virgin fromthe Gulf of California in 1858, and the portion above Flaming Gorge, from the foot of Green River Valley, was fairly well known, with theUnion Pacific Railway finally bridging it in Wyoming. One James Whitewas picked up (1867) at a point below the mouth of the Virgin in anexhausted state, and it was assumed that he had made a large part of theterrible voyage on a raft, but this was not the case, and the ColoradoRiver Canyons still waited for a conqueror. He came in 1869 in theperson of John Wesley Powell, a late Major[1] in the Civil War, whosescientific studies had led him to the then territory of Colorado wherehis mind became fired with the intention of exploring the canyons. Theidea was carried out, and the river was descended from the Union PacificRailway crossing to the mouth of the Virgin, and two of the men went onto the sea. Thus the great feat was accomplished--one of the greatestfeats of exploration ever executed on this continent. [2] [Illustration: The Toll. Unidentified skeleton found April 1906 by C. C. Spaulding in the GrandCanyon 300 feet above the river, some miles below Bright Angel trail. There were daily papers of the early spring of 1900 in the pocket of theclothes. Photograph 1906 by Kolb Bros. ] Circumstances had rendered the data collected both insufficient andincomplete. A second expedition was projected to supply deficiencies andto extend the work; an expedition so well equipped and planned that timecould be taken for the purely scientific side of the venture. Thisexpedition was the first one under the government, the former expeditionhaving been a more or less private enterprise. Congress madeappropriations and the party were to start in 1870. This was found to beinexpedient for several reasons, among which was the necessity ofexploring a route by which rations could be brought in to them at themouth of what we called Dirty Devil River--a euphonious title applied bythe men of the first expedition. This stream entered the Colorado at thefoot of what is now known as Narrow Canyon, a little below the 38thparallel, --the Frémont River of the present geographies. Arrangementsfor supplies to be brought in to the second expedition at this placewere made by the Major during a special visit to southern Utah for thepurpose. By great good fortune I became a member of the second expedition. Scoresof men were turned away, disappointed. The party was a small one, and itwas full. We were to begin our voyage through the chain of greatcanyons, at the same point where the first expedition started, the pointwhere the recently completed Union Pacific Railway crossed Green Riverin Wyoming, and we arrived there from the East early on the morning ofApril 29, 1871. We were all ravenous after the long night on the trainand breakfast was the first consideration, but when this hadre-established our energy we went to look for the flat car with ourboats which had been sent ahead from Chicago. The car was soon found ona siding and with the help of some railroad employés we pushed it alongto the eastern end of the bridge over Green River and there, on thedown side, put the boats into the waters against whose onslaughts theywere to be our salvation. It was lucky perhaps that we did not pause toponder on the importance of these little craft; on how much depended ontheir staunchness and stability; and on our possible success inpreventing their destruction. The river was high from melting snows andthe current was swift though ordinarily it is not a large river at thispoint. This season had been selected for the start because of the highwater, which would tide us over the rocks till tributary streams shouldswell the normal volume; for our boats were to be well loaded, therebeing no chance to get supplies after leaving. We had some trouble inmaking a landing where we wanted to, in a little cove on the east sideabout half a mile down, which had been selected as a good place for ourpreparatory operations. Here the three boats were hauled out to receivethe final touches. They were named _Emma Dean_, _Nellie Powell_, and_Cañonita_. A space was cleared in the thick willows for our generalcamp over which Andy was to be master of ceremonies, at least so far asthe banqueting division was concerned, and here he became initiated intothe chemistry necessary to transform raw materials into comparativelyedible food. But it was not so hard a task, for our supplies were flour, beans, bacon, dried apples, and dried peaches, tea and coffee, with, ofcourse, plenty of sugar. Canned goods at that time were not common, andbesides, would have been too heavy. Bread must be baked three times aday in the Dutch oven, a sort of skillet of cast iron, about threeinches deep, ten or twelve inches in diameter, with short legs, and acast-iron cover with a turned-up rim that would hold hot coals. We hadno other bread than was made in this oven, or in a frying-pan, withsaleratus and cream of tartar to raise it. It was Andy's firstexperience as a cook, though he had been a soldier in the Civil War, ashad almost every member of the party except the youngest three, Clem, Frank, and myself, I being the youngest of all. For sleeping quarters we were disposed in two vacant wooden shantiesabout two hundred yards apart and a somewhat greater distance from thecook-camp. These shanties were mansions left over, like a group ofroofless adobe ruins near by, from the opulent days of a year or twoback when this place had been the terminus of the line during buildingoperations. Little remained of its whilom grandeur; a section house, arailway station, a number of canvas-roofed domiciles, Field's"Outfitting Store, " and the aforesaid shanties in which we securedrefuge, being about all there was of the place. The region round aboutsuggested the strangeness of the wild country below, through the midstof which led our trail. Arid and gravelly hills met the eye on allsides, accentuated by huge buttes and cliffs of brilliant colours, which in their turn were intensified by a clear sky of deep azure. Inthe midst of our operations, we found time to note the passing of thesingle express train each way daily. These trains seemed very friendlyand the passengers gazed wonderingly from the windows at us and wavedhandkerchiefs. They perceived what we were about by the sign which Ipainted on cloth and fastened across the front of our house, which wasnear the track: "Powell's Colorado River Exploring Expedition. " Abovethis was flying our general flag, the Stars and Stripes. The white boats were thoroughly gone over with caulking-iron and paint. Upon the decks of the cabins, canvas, painted green, was stretched insuch a way that it could be unbuttoned at the edges on three sides andthrown back when we wanted to take off the hatches. When in place thiscanvas kept the water, perfectly, out of the hatch joints. Each boat hadthree compartments, the middle one being about four feet long, aboutone-fifth the length of the boat, which was twenty-two feet over thetop. Two places were left for the rowers, before and abaft the middlecompartment, while the steersman with his long oar thrust behind was tosit on the deck of the after-cabin, all the decks being flush with thegunwale, except that of the forward cabin the deck of which was carriedback in a straighter line than the sheer of the boat and thus formed anose to help throw off the waves. It was believed that when the hatcheswere firmly in place and the canvases drawn taut over the decks, even ifa boat turned over, as was expected sometimes might be the case, thecontents of these cabins would remain intact and dry. As so muchdepended on keeping our goods dry, and as we knew from Powell's previousexperience that the voyage would be a wet one, everything was carefullyput in rubber sacks, each having a soft mouth inside a double lip with arow of eyelets in each lip through which ran a strong cord. When thesoft mouth was rolled up and the bag squeezed, the air was forced out, and the lips could be drawn to a bunch by means of the cord. When inthis condition the bag could be soaked a long time in water withoutwetting the contents. Each rubber bag was encased in a heavy cotton oneto protect it; in short, we spared no effort to render our provisionsproof against the destroying elements. At first we put the bacon intorubber, but it spoiled the rubber and then we saw that bacon can takecare of itself, nothing can hurt it anyhow, and a gunny-sack was allthat was necessary. Though the boats were five feet in the beam andabout twenty-four inches in depth, their capacity was limited and thesupplies we could take must correspond. Each man was restricted to onehundred pounds of baggage, including his blankets. He had one rubber bagfor the latter and another for his clothing and personal effects. In theprovision line we had twenty-two sacks of flour of fifty pounds each. There was no whiskey, so far as I ever knew, except a small flaskcontaining about one gill which I had been given with a ditty-bag forthe journey. This flask was never drawn upon and was intact till neededas medicine in October. Smoking was abandoned, though a case of smokingtobacco was taken for any Indians we might meet. Our photographic outfitwas extremely bulky and heavy, for the dry plate had not been invented. We had to carry a large amount of glass and chemicals, as well asapparatus. The numerous scientific instruments also were bulky, as they had to befitted into wooden cases that were covered with canvas and then withrubber. Rations in quantity were not obtainable short of Salt Lake orFort Bridger, and we had Congressional authority to draw on the militaryposts for supplies. The Major and his colleague, Professor Thompson, went to Fort Bridger and to Salt Lake to secure what was necessary, andto make further arrangements for the supplies which were to be broughtin to us at the three established points: the mouth of the Uinta, by wayof the Uinta Indian Agency; the mouth of the Dirty Devil; and the placewhere Escalante had succeeded in crossing the Colorado in 1776, known asthe Crossing of the Fathers, about on the line between Utah and Arizona. [Illustration: Red Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Powell, who had come out on the same train withus, had gone on to Salt Lake, where they were to wait for news from theexpedition, when we should get in touch with the Uinta Agency at themouth of the Uinta River, something over two hundred miles further down. At length all was provided for and the Major and Prof. Returned to ourcamp from Salt Lake bringing a new member of the party, Jack Hillers, totake the place of Jack Sumner of the former party who was unable to getto us on account of the deep snows in the mountains which surrounded theretreat where he had spent the winter trapping. Prof. Brought back alsoan American flag for each boat with the name of the boat embroidered inthe field of blue on one side while the stars were on the other. We alladmired these flags greatly, especially as they had been made by Mrs. Thompson's own hands. We had with us a diary which Jack Sumner had kept on the former voyage, and the casual way in which he repeatedly referred to running through a"hell of foam" gave us an inkling, if nothing more, of what was coming. Our careful preparations gave us a feeling of security against disaster, or, at least, induced us to expect some degree of liberality fromFortune. We had done our best to insure success and could go forward insome confidence. A delay was caused by the non-arrival of some extraheavy oars ordered from Chicago, but at length they came, and it waswell we waited, for the lighter ones were quickly found to be too frail. Our preparations had taken three weeks. Considering that we were obligedto provide against every contingency that might occur in descending thistorrent so completely locked in from assistance and supplies, the timewas not too long. Below Green River City, Wyoming, where we were tostart, there was not a single settler, nor a settlement of any kind, onor near the river for a distance of more than a thousand miles. From theriver out, a hundred miles in an air line westward, across a practicallytrackless region, would be required to measure the distance to thenearest Mormon settlements on the Sevier, while eastward it was morethan twice as far to the few pioneers who had crossed the Backbone ofthe Continent. The Uinta Indian Agency was the nearest establishment toGreen River. It was forty miles west of the mouth of the Uinta. Insouthern Utah the newly formed Mormon settlement of Kanab offered thenext haven, but no one understood exactly its relationship to thetopography of the Colorado, except from the vicinity of the Crossing ofthe Fathers. Thus the country through which we were to pass was then areal wilderness, while the river itself was walled in for almost theentire way by more or less unscalable cliffs of great height. Finally all of our preparations were completed to the last detail. Thecabins of the boats were packed as one packs a trunk. A wooden arm-chairwas obtained from Field and fastened to the middle deck of our boat bystraps, as a seat for the Major, and to the left side of it--he had noright arm--his rubber life-preserver was attached. Each man had asimilar life-preserver in a convenient place, and he was to keep thisalways ready to put on when we reached particularly dangerous rapids. Onthe evening of the 21st of May nothing more remained to be done. TheSecond Powell Expedition was ready to start. [Illustration: Before the Start at Green River City, Wyoming. The dark box open. _Cañonita_; Andy, Clem, Beaman. _Emma Dean_; Jones, Jack, the Major, Fred. _Nellie Powell_; Prof. , Steward, Cap. , Frank. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: Powell had received an appointment as Colonel before heleft the Volunteer Service, but he was always called Major. ] [Footnote 2: For the history of the Colorado River the reader isreferred to _The Romance of the Colorado River_, by F. S. Dellenbaugh. ] CHAPTER II Into the Wilderness--The Order of Sailing--Tobacco for the Indians Comes Handy--A Lone Fisherman and Some Trappers--Jack Catches Strange Fish--The Snow-clad Uintas in View--A Larder Full of Venison--Entrance into Flaming Gorge. The 22d of May, 1871, gave us a brilliant sun and a sky of sapphire witha sparkling atmosphere characteristic of the Rocky Mountain Region. Thegreat buttes near the station, which Moran has since made famous, shonewith a splendour that was inspiring. To enable us to pick up the lastends more easily and to make our departure in general more convenient, we had breakfast that morning at Field's outfitting place, and anexcellent breakfast it was. It was further distinguished by being thelast meal that we should eat at a table for many a month. We werefollowed to the cove, where our loaded boats were moored, by a number ofpeople; about the whole population in fact, and that did not make acrowd. None of the Chinamen came down, and there were no Indians in townthat day. The only unpleasant circumstance was the persistent repetitionby a deaf-mute of a pantomimic representation of the disaster that hebelieved was to overwhelm us. "Dummy, " as we called him, showed us thatwe would be upset, and, unable to scale the cliffs, would surely all bedrowned. This picture, as vividly presented as possible, seemed to givehim and his brother great satisfaction. We laughed at his prophecy, buthis efforts to talk were distressing. It may be said in excuse for him, that in some paddling up the river from that point, he had arrived atperhaps an honest conviction of what would happen to any one goingbelow; and also, that other wise men of the town predicted that we wouldnever see "Brown's Hole, " at the end of Red Canyon. At ten o'clock we pushed out into the current. There were "Good-bye andGod-speed" from the shore with a cheer, and we responded with three andthen we passed out of sight. The settlement, the railway, the people, were gone; the magnificent wilderness was ours. We swept down with afour-mile current between rather low banks, using the oars mainly forguidance, and meeting no difficulty worse than a shoal, on which theboats all grounded for a few moments, and the breaking of his oar byJones who steered our boat. About noon having run three miles, a landingwas made on a broad gravelly island, to enable Andy to concoct a dinner. A heavy gale was tearing fiercely across the bleak spot. The sand flewin stinging clouds, but we got a fire started and then it burned like afurnace. Andy made another sample of his biscuits, this time liberallyincorporated with sand, and he fried some bacon. The sand mainly settledto the bottom of the frying pan, for this bacon was no fancy breakfasttable variety but was clear fat three or four inches thick. But how goodit was! And the grease poured on bread! And yet while at the railway Ihad scorned it; in fact I had even declared that I would never touch it, whereat the others only smiled a grim and confident smile. And now, atthe first noon camp, I was ready to pronounce it one of the greatestdelicacies I had ever tasted! They jeered at me, but their jeers werekind, friendly jeers, and I recall them with pleasure. In warm-heartedcompanionship no set of men that I have ever since been associated withhas been superior to these fellow voyageurs, and the Major's big way oftreating things has been a lesson all my life. We had all become fasttrue friends at once. With the exception of the Major, whom I had firstmet about two months before, and Frank whom I had known for a year ortwo, I had been acquainted with them only since we had met on the trainon the way out. In the scant shelter of some greasewood bushes we devoured the repastwhich the morning's exercise and the crisp air had made so welcome, andeach drank several cups of tea dipped from the camp-kettle wherein Andyhad boiled it. We had no formal table. When all was ready, the magicwords, "Well go fur it, boys, " which Andy uttered stepping back from thefire were ceremony enough. Each man took a tin plate and a cup andserved himself. Clem and Frank were sent back overland to the town for abox of thermometers forgotten and for an extra steering oar left behind, and the _Cañonita_ waited for their return. During the afternoon, as we glided on, the hills began to close in uponus, and occasionally the river would cut into one making a highprecipitous wall, a forerunner of the character of the river banksbelow. The order of going was, our boat, the _Emma Dean_, first, withMajor Powell on the deck of the middle cabin, or compartment, sitting inhis arm-chair, which was securely fastened there, but was easilyremovable. S. V. Jones was at the steering oar, Jack Hillers pulled hispair of oars in the after standing-room, while I was at the bow oars. The second in line was the _Nellie Powell_, Professor A. H. Thompsonsteering, J. F. Steward rowing aft, Captain F. M. Bishop forward, andFrank Richardson sitting rather uncomfortably on the middle deck. Thethird and last boat was the _Cañonita_, which E. O. Beaman, thephotographer steered, while Andrew Hattan, rowed aft, and ClementPowell, assistant photographer, forward. This order was preserved, witha few exceptions, throughout the first season's work. It was the duty ofProf. And Jones to make a traverse (or meander) of the river as wedescended. They were to sight ahead at each bend with prismaticcompasses and make estimates of the length of each sight, height ofwalls, width of stream, etc. , and Cap was to put the results on paper. The Major on his first boat, kept a general lookout and gave commandsaccording to circumstances. He remembered the general character of theriver from his former descent, but he had to be on the _qui-vive_ as todetails. Besides every stage of water makes a change in the nature ofthe river at every point. In addition to this outlook, the Major kept aneye on the geology, as he was chief geologist; and Steward, beingassistant geologist did the same. Richardson was assistant to Steward. Jack was general assistant and afterwards photographer. I was artist, and later, assistant topographer also. It was my duty to make any sketchthat the geologists might want, and of course, as in the case ofeverybody, to help in the navigation or anything else that came along. Each man had a rifle and some had also revolvers. Most of the rifleswere Winchesters. [3] We had plenty of ammunition, and the rifles weregenerally kept where we could get at them quickly. In this order, and with these duties, we ran on down the Green, and sofar at least as I was concerned, feeling as if we had suddenly steppedoff into another world. Late in the afternoon we were astonished todiscover a solitary old man sitting on the right bank fishing. Who hewas we did not know but we gave him a cheer as we dashed by and werecarried beyond his surprised vision. As the sun began to reach thehorizon a lookout was kept for a good place for camp. I, for one, wasdeeply interested, as I had never yet slept in the open. At length wereached a spot where the hills were some distance back on the rightleaving quite a bottom where there were a number of cottonwood trees. Adeserted log cabin silently invited us to land and, as this was cordialfor the wilderness, we responded in the affirmative. The sky had a lookof storm about it and I was glad of even this excuse for a roof, thoughthe cabin was too small to shelter our whole party, except standing up, and the beds were all put down on the ground outside. The night was verycold and the fire which we made for Andy's operations was mostcomforting. We had for supper another instalment of bacon, saleratus-bread, and tea, which tasted just as good as had that preparedat noon. Sitting on rocks and stumps we ate this meal, and presently theraw air reminded some of the smokers that, while they had thrown theirtobacco away there was, in the boats, the quite large supply designedfor our Red friends, should we meet any. Of course we had more than wasabsolutely necessary for them, and in a few minutes the pipes which hadbeen cast away at Green River appeared well filled and burning. Perhapswe had pipes for the Indians too! I had not thrown my pipe away for itwas a beautifully carved meerschaum--a present. I knew just where it wasand lighted it up, though I was not a great smoker. The Indians did notget as much of that tobacco as they might have wished. To make our blankets go farther we bunked together two and two, andJones and I were bed-fellows. It was some time before I could go tosleep. I kept studying the sky; watching the stars through the raggedbreaks in the flying clouds. The night was silent after the gale. Theriver flowed on with little noise. The fire flickered and flickered, andthe cottonwoods appeared dark and strange as I finally went to sleep. Ihad not been long in that happy state before I saw some men trying tosteal our boats on which our lives depended and I immediately attackedthem, pinning one to the ground. It was only Jones I was holding down, and his shouts and struggles to reach his pistol woke me, and startledthe camp. He believed a real enemy was on him. There was a laugh at myexpense, and then sleep ruled again till about daylight when I wasroused by rain falling on my face. All were soon up. The rain changed tosnow which fell so heavily that we were driven to the cabin where aglorious fire was made on the hearth, and by it Andy got the bread andbacon and coffee ready for breakfast, and also for dinner, for the snowwas so thick we could not venture on the river till it stopped, and thatwas not till afternoon. The country through which we now passed was more broken. Cliffs, buttes, mesas, were everywhere. Sometimes we were between high rocky banks, thenwe saw a valley several miles wide, always without a sign of occupationby white men, even though as yet we were not far from the railway in adirect course. Very late in the afternoon we saw something moving in thedistance on the right. Our glasses made it out to be two or three menon horseback. A signal was made which they saw, and consequently stoppedto await developments, and a bag of fossils, the Major had collected, was sent out to them with a request to take it to Green River Station, in which direction they were headed. They proved to be a party ofprospectors who agreed to deliver the fossils, and we went on our way. The mornings and evenings were very cold and frosty, but during the daythe temperature was perfectly comfortable, and this was gratifying, forthe river in places spread into several channels, so that no one of themwas everywhere deep enough for the boats which drew, so heavily laden, sixteen or eighteen inches. The keels grated frequently on the bottomand we had to jump overboard to lighten the boats and pull them off intodeep water. We found as we went on that we must be ready every moment, in all kinds of water, to get over into the river, and it was necessaryto do so with our clothes on, including our shoes, for the reason thatthe rocky bottom would bruise and cut our feet without the shoes, rockswould do the same to our legs, and for the further reason that there wasno time to remove garments. In the rapids further on we always shippedwater and consequently we were wet from this cause most of the timeanyhow. We had two suits of clothes, one for wear on the river in theday time, and the other for evening in camp, the latter being kept in arubber bag, so that we always managed to be dry and warm at night. Onmaking camp the day suit was spread out on rocks or on a branch of atree if one were near, or on a bush to dry, and it was generally, thoughnot always, comfortably so, in the morning when it was again put on forthe river work. Sometimes, being still damp, the sensation for a fewmoments was not agreeable. We snapped several of the lighter oars in the cross currents, as theboats were heavy and did not mind quickly, and to backwater suddenly onone of the slender oars broke it like a reed. Some of the longer, heavier oars were then cut down to eight feet and were found to beentirely serviceable. The steering oars were cut down from eighteen tosixteen feet. Extra oars were carried slung on each side of the boatsjust under the gunwales, for the Major on the former journey had beenmuch hampered by being obliged to halt to search for timber suitable foroars and then to make them. There was one thing about the boats which wesoon discovered was a mistake. This was the lack of iron on the keels. The iron had been left off for the purpose of reducing the weight whenit should be necessary to carry the boats around bad places, but therocks and gravel cut the keels down alarmingly, till there was danger ofwearing out the bottoms in the long voyage to come. [4] Jack was a great fisherman, and it was not long before he tried his luckin the waters of the Green. No one knew what kind of fish might betaken--at least no one in our party--and he began his fishing with somecuriosity. It was rewarded by a species of fish none of us had everbefore seen, a fish about ten to sixteen inches long, slim, with finescales and large fins. Their heads came down with a sudden curve to themouth, and their bodies tapered off to a very small circumference justbefore the tail spread out. They were good to eat, and formed a welcomeaddition to our larder. We were all eager for something fresh, and whenwe saw a couple of deer run across the bluffs just before we reached ourfourth camp, our hopes of venison were roused to a high degree. Campnumber four was opposite the mouth of Black's Fork at an altitude abovesea level of 5940 feet, a descent of 135 feet from the railway bridge. After this the channel was steadier and the water deeper, Black's Forkbeing one of the largest tributaries of the upper river. We now came inview of the snowy line of the Uinta Range stretching east and westacross our route and adding a beautiful alpine note to the wide barrenarray of cliffs and buttes. It was twenty or thirty miles off, but soclear was the air that we seemed to be almost upon it. As we were drifting along with a swift current in the afternoon, the dayafter passing Black's Fork, one of the party saw a deer on an island. Arifle shot from our boat missed, and the animal dashing into the riverswam across and disappeared in the wide valley. But another was seen. Alanding was made immediately, and while some of the men held the boatsready to pick up a prize, the others beat the island. I was assigned toman our boat, and as we waited up against the bank under the bushes, wecould hear the rifles crack. Then all was still. Suddenly I heard acrashing of bushes and a hundred yards above us a superb black-tailsprang into the water and swam for the east bank. My sensation wasdivided between a desire to see the deer escape, and a desire tosupplant the bacon with venison for a time. My cartridges were under thehatches as it chanced, so I was unable to take action myself. With deepinterest I watched the animal swim and with regret that our fresh meatwas so fortunate, for it was two-thirds of the way across, before arifle cracked. The deer's efforts ceased instantly and she began todrift down with the current. We ran our boat out and hauled the carcasson board. At the same time as we were being carried down by the swiftcurrent we got a view of the other side of the island where Cap. Up tohis arms in the stream was trying to pull another deer ashore by thehorns. It looked as if both deer and Cap. Would sail away and forever, till another boat went to his rescue. Presently the third boat came downbearing still another deer. The successful shots were from Prof. , Andy, and Steward. Our prospects for a feast were bright, and we had it. Thedeer were speedily dressed, Frank displaying exceptional skill in thisline. Had we been able to stay in this region we would never have beenin want of fresh meat, but when we entered the canyons the conditionswere so different and the task of pursuing game so baffling andexhausting that we never had such success again. The whole of the nextday we remained in a favourable spot at the foot of a strangely tiltedledge, where we jerked the venison by the aid of sun and fire topreserve it. Near this point as observations showed later we passed fromWyoming into Utah. About dusk we were surprised to discover a small craft with a singleindividual aboard coming down the river. Then we saw it was a raft. Wewatched its approach with deep interest wondering who the stranger couldbe, but he turned out to be Steward who had gone geologising and hadtaken this easier means of coming back. He tried it again farther downand met with an experience which taught him to trust to the landthereafter. [Illustration: Flaming Gorge. The Beginning of the Colorado River Canyons, N. E. Utah. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] The next day our boat was held back for some special work while theothers proceeded toward a high spur of the Uintas, directly in front ofus. We followed with a fierce and blinding gale sweeping the river andfilling our eyes with sharp sand. Nevertheless we could see high upbefore us some bright red rocks marking the first canyon of thewonderful series that separates this river from the common world. Fromthese bright rocks glowing in the sunlight like a flame above thegrey-green of the ridge, the Major had bestowed on this place the nameof Flaming Gorge. As we passed down towards the mountain it seemed thatthe river surely must end there, but suddenly just below the mouth ofHenry's Fork it doubled to the left and we found ourselves between twolow cliffs, then in a moment we dashed to the right into the beautifulcanyon, with the cliffs whose summit we had seen, rising about 1300 feeton the right, and a steep slope on the left at the base of which was asmall bottom covered with tall cottonwood trees, whose green shoneresplendent against the red rocks. The other boats were swinging attheir lines and the smoke of Andy's fire whirling on the wind was acheerful sight to the ever-hungry inner-man. Constant exercise in theopen air produces a constant appetite. As long as we could protect ourcargoes, and make our connections with our supplies as planned, we wouldsurely not have to go hungry, but we had to consider that there was roomfor some variation or degree of success. There was at least onecomforting feature about the river work and that was we never sufferedfor drinking water. It was only on side trips, away from the river thatwe met this difficulty, so common in the Rocky Mountain Region and allthe South-west. When the barometrical observations were worked out we found we had nowdescended 262 feet from our starting-point. That was four and a quarterfeet for each mile of the sixty-two we had put behind. We alwayscounted the miles put behind, for we knew they could not be retraced, but it was ever the miles and the rapids ahead that we kept most in ourminds. We were now at the beginning of the real battle with the "SunkenRiver. " Henceforth, high and forbidding cliffs with few breaks, wouldimprison the stream on both sides. A loss of our provisions would mean a journey on foot, after climbingout of the canyon, to Green River (Wyoming) to Salt Lake City or to theUinta Indian Agency. There was a trail from Brown's Hole (now Brown'sPark) back to the railway, but the difficulty would be to reach it if weshould be wrecked in Red Canyon. We did not give these matters greatconcern at the time, but I emphasise them now to indicate some of thedifficulties of the situation and the importance of preventing the wreckof even one boat. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 3: Two were of the original Henry pattern. ] [Footnote 4: For further description of these boats the reader isreferred to _The Romance of the Colorado River_, page 236, by F. S. Dellenbaugh. ] CHAPTER III The First Rapid--Horseshoe and Kingfisher Canyons--A Rough Entrance into Red Canyon--Capsize of the _Nell_--The Grave of a Bold Navigator--Discovery of a White Man's Camp--Good-bye to Frank--At the Gate of Lodore. Prof. Now took observations for time and latitude in order to fix withaccuracy the geographical location of the camp in Flaming Gorge, and tocheck the estimates of the topographers as they sighted the variousstretches of the river. It has been found that estimates of this kindare quite accurate and that the variation from exactness is generallythe same in[5] the same individual. Hence one man may underestimate andanother may overestimate, but each will always make the same error, andthis error can be readily corrected by frequent observations todetermine latitude and longitude. A series of barometrical observationswas kept going whether we were on the move or not. That is, a mercurialbarometer was read three times a day, regularly, at seven, at one, andat nine. We had aneroid barometers for work away from the river andthese were constantly compared with and adjusted to the mercurials. Thetubes of mercury sometimes got broken, and then a new one had to beboiled to replace it. I believe the boiling of tubes has since that timebeen abandoned, as there is not enough air in the tube to interfere withthe action of the mercury, but at that time it was deemed necessary foraccuracy, and it gave Prof. Endless trouble. The wind was alwaysblowing, and no tent we could contrive from blankets, and waggon sheets(we had no regular tents), sufficed to keep the flame of the alcohollamp from flickering. Nevertheless, Prof. Whose patience and dexteritywere unlimited, always succeeded. The mercurial barometers were of thekind with a buckskin pocket at the bottom of the cistern with a screwfor adjusting the column of mercury to a fixed point. Most of the men climbed out in various directions and for variousobjects. Prof. Reached a high altitude whence he obtained a broad viewof the country, a grand sight with the quiet river below and snow-cappedmountains around, with rolling smoke and leaping flame, for there weregreat mountain fires not far off. The Major and Steward wentgeologising. Steward was rewarded by discovering a number of fossils, among them the bones of an immense animal of the world's early day, witha femur ten inches in diameter, and ribs two inches thick and six incheswide. These bones were much exposed and could have been dug out, but wehad no means of transporting them. Flaming Gorge is an easy place to get in and out of, even with a horse, and doubtless in the old beaver-hunting days it was a favourite resortof trappers. I am inclined to think that the double turn of the swirlingriver where it enters Flaming Gorge is the place known at that time asthe Green River Suck. Our camp under the cottonwoods was delightful. Wetook advantage of the halt to write up notes, clean guns, mend clothes, do our washing, and all the other little things incident to a breathingspell on a voyage of this kind. It was Sunday too, and when possible westopped on that account, though, of course, progress could not bedeferred for that reason alone. Monday morning we left the pleasant camp in the grove and went on withthe tide. The river was rough from a heavy gale, but otherwise offeredno obstacle. At a sudden bend we cut to the left deeper into themountain till on both sides we were enclosed by almost perpendicularprecipices of carboniferous formation, limestone, about 1600 feet high. The canyon was surprisingly beautiful and romantic. The river seemed tochange its mood here, and began to flow with an impetus it had exhibitednowhere above. It swept on with a directness and a concentration ofpurpose that had about it something ominous. And just here, at the footof the right hand wall which was perpendicular for 800 feet, with theleft more sloping, and clothed with cedar shrubs, we beheld our firstreal rapid, gleaming like a jewel from its setting in the sunlight whichfell into the gorge, and it had as majestic a setting as could bedesired. For myself I can say that the place appeared the acme of theromantic and picturesque. The rapid was small and swift, a mere chute, and perhaps hardly worthy of mention had it not been the point where thecharacter of the river current changes making it distinguished becauseof being the first of hundreds to come below. The river above had held acontinual descent accelerating here and retarding there with an averagecurrent of two and a half miles an hour, but here began the quick dropsfor which the canyons are now famous. There was one place where Prof. Noted a small rapid but it was not like this one, and I did not count itat all. [Illustration: Horseshoe Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] The gorge we ran into so suddenly was short and by dinner-time we hademerged into a wider, more broken place, though we were still bound inby tremendous heights. We saw that we had described a complete horseshoeand this fact determined the canyon's name--number two of the series. When we landed for dinner, an examination was made of the locality fromthat base before we dropped down a little distance to the mouth of afine clear creek coming in from the right. This was a fascinating place. The great slopes were clothed with verdure and trees, and the creek ranthrough luxuriant vegetation. A halt of a day was made for observationpurposes. The air was full of kingfishers darting about and weimmediately called the creek by their name. I was sent with Steward on a geological expedition out over the right orwestern cliffs. We consumed two hours in getting out, having to climb upabout 1000 feet over a difficult way. After a good deal of going up anddown across rough ridges, we finally worked our way around to the headof Flaming Gorge. Here we reckoned up and found that eight steep ridgesintervened between us and camp by the way we had come, and we concludedthat we could get back easier through Flaming Gorge and thence byclimbing over the tongue or base of the horseshoe which was lower thanthe end. Steward grew decidedly weary and I felt my legs getting heavytoo. Rain had fallen at intervals all day and we were wet as well astired and famished. We struck an old trail and followed it as long as itwent our way. Then it became too dark to see which way it went and weclimbed on as best we could. It was about half-past eight when wereached our camp to find a splendid fire burning and a good supperwaiting for us. The new canyon which closed in the next day had walls about 1500 feet inheight, that being the general height of the spur of the Uintas throughwhich we were travelling. The changes from one canyon to another wereonly changes in the character of the bounding mountain walls, for therewas no break into open country. The name of Kingfisher we gave to thenew gorge for the same reason we had called the creek at our camp bythat name, and so numerous were these birds at one rounded promontorythat there was no escape from calling it Beehive Point, the resemblanceto a gigantic hive being perfect. Kingfisher Canyon like its twopredecessors was short, all three making a distance by the river of onlyabout ten miles. Flaming Gorge is the gateway, Horseshoe the vestibule, and Kingfisher the ante-chamber to the whole grand series. At the footof Kingfisher the rocks fell back a little and steep slopes took theirplace. Where the rocks closed in again, we halted on the threshold ofthe next gorge, in a fine grove of cottonwoods. A significant roar cameto us out of the gate to Red Canyon, rolling up on the air with asteady, unvarying monotony that had a sinister meaning. It was plainthat we were nearing something that was no paltry gem like the rapid wehad so much admired in Horseshoe Canyon. The remainder of that day and all the next, which was June 1st, westayed at this camp completing records, investigating the surroundings, and preparing for rough work ahead. On Friday morning the cabins werepacked carefully, the life preservers were inflated, and we pulled outinto the current. The cliffs shot up around us and rough water began atonce. The descent was almost continuous for a considerable distance, butwe divided it into three rapids in our notes, before we reached a sharpturn to the right, and then one just as sharp to the left, with verticalwalls on both sides and a roaring torrent, broken by rocks, whirlingbetween. Our boat shot down with fierce rapidity and would have gonethrough without a mishap had not the current dashed us so close to theright-hand wall that Jack's starboard row-lock was ripped off by aprojection of the cliff as we were hurled along its rugged base. At thesame moment we saw the _Nell_ upsetting against some rocks on the left. Then we swept out of view and I was obliged to pull with all mystrength, Jack's one oar being useless. We succeeded in gaining a littlecove on the left, and jumped out as soon as shallow enough, the Majorimmediately climbing the cliffs to a high point where he could look downon the unfortunate second boat. Prof. , it seems, had misunderstood theMajor's signal and had done just what he did not think he ought to do. He thought it meant to land on the left and he had tried to reach asmall strip of beach, but finding this was not possible he turned theboat again into the current to retrieve his former position, but thiswas not successful and the _Nell_ was thrown on some rocks projectingfrom the left wall, in the midst of wild waters, striking hard enough tocrush some upper planks of the port side. She immediately rolled over, and Frank slid under. Prof. Clutched him and pulled him back while themen all sprang for the rocks and saved themselves and the boat frombeing washed away in this demoralised condition. With marvellouscelerity Cap. Took a turn with a rope around a small tree which hemanaged to reach, while Steward jumped to a position where he couldprevent the boat from pounding. In a minute she was righted and they gother to the little beach where they had tried to land. Here they pulledher out and, partially unloading, repaired her temporarily as well asthey could. This done they towed up to a point of vantage and made afresh start and cleared the rapid with no further incident. Meanwhilethe _Cañonita_ had come in to where we were lying, and both boats wereheld ready to rescue the men of the other. After about three-quarters ofan hour the unfortunate came down, her crew being rather elated over theexperience and the distinction of having the first capsize. Setting out on the current again we passed two beautiful creeks enteringfrom the right, and they were immediately named respectively, Compassand Kettle creeks, to commemorate the loss of these articles in thecapsize. At the mouth of Kettle Creek, about a mile and a half below thecapsize rapid, we stopped for dinner. Then running several small drops, we arrived at a long descent that compelled careful action. We alwayslanded, where possible, to make an examination and learn the trend ofthe main current. Our not being able to do this above was the cause ofthe _Nell's_ trouble. We now saw that we had here landed on the wrongside and would have to make a somewhat hazardous crossing to theopposite, or right bank. Our boat tried it first. In spite of vigorouspulling we were carried faster down towards the rapid than to theobjective landing. When we reached water about waist deep we all sprangoverboard, and I got to shore with the line as quickly as I could. Wewere able to turn and catch the _Nell_ as she came in, but the_Cañonita_ following ran too far down. We all dashed into the streamalmost at the head of the rapid, and there caught her in time. The loadwas taken out of our boat and she was let down by lines over the worstpart. Loading again we lowered to another bad place where we went intocamp on the same spot where the Major had camped two years before. Weunloaded the other boats and got them down before dark, but we atesupper by firelight. The river averaged about 250 feet wide, with acurrent of not less than six miles an hour and waves in the rapids overfive feet in vertical height. These waves broke up stream as waves do ina swift current, and as the boats cut into them at a high velocity weshipped quantities of water and were constantly drenched, especially thebow-oarsmen. The cliffs on each side, wonderfully picturesque, soon ranup to 1200 or 1500 feet, and steadily increased their altitude. Owing tothe dip of the strata across the east and west trend of the canyon thewalls on the north were steeper than those on the south, but they seldomrose vertically from the river. Masses of talus, and often alluvialstretches with rocks and trees, were strung along their base, usuallyoffering numerous excellent landings and camping places. We were able tostop about as we wished and had no trouble as to camps, though they werefrequently not just what we would have preferred. There was alwayssmooth sand to sleep on, and often plenty of willows to cut and lay inrows for a mattress. It must not be imagined that these great canyonsare dark and gloomy in the daytime. They are no more so than an ordinarycity street flanked with very high buildings. Some lateral canyons arenarrow and so deep that the sun enters them but briefly, but even theseare only shady, not dark. [Illustration: Red Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] We remained on the Major's old camp ground a day so that Jones and Cap. Could climb to the top of the cliff to get the topography. The nextmorning though it was Sunday was not to be one of rest. We began bylowering the boats about forty rods farther and there pulled out intothe stream and were dashed along by a fierce current with rapidfollowing rapid closely. The descent was nearly continuous with greaterdeclivities thrown in here and there. As usual we took in a good deal ofwater and were saturated. We were growing accustomed to this, and theboats being built to float even when the open parts were full, we didnot mind sitting with our legs in cold water till opportunity came tobail out with the camp kettle left in each open space for the purpose. One rapid where Theodore Hook, of Cheyenne, was drowned in 1869, whileattempting to follow the first party, gave us no trouble. We sailedthrough it easily. Hook had declared that if Powell could descend theriver he could too, and he headed a party to follow. [6] The motive Ibelieve was prospecting. I do not know how far they expected to go butthis was as far as they got. Their abandoned boats, flat-bottomed andinadequate, still lay half buried in sand on the left-hand bank, and notfar off on a sandy knoll was the grave of the unfortunate leader markedby a pine board set up, with his name painted on it. Old sacks, ropes, oars, etc. , emphasised the completeness of the disaster. Not far below this we made what we called a "line portage, " that is, theboats were worked along the edge of the rapid, one at a time, in and outamong the boulders with three or four men clinging to them to fend themoff the rocks and several more holding on to the hundred-foot hawser, sothat there was no possibility of one getting loose and smashing up, orleaving us altogether. It was then noon and a camp was made for theremainder of the day on the left bank in a very comfortable spot. We hadaccomplished three and a half miles, with four distinct rapids run andone "let-down. " I went up from the camp along a sandy stretch and wassurprised to discover what I took to be the fresh print of the barefoot of a man. Mentioning this when I returned, my companions laughedand warned me to be cautious and give this strange man a wide berthunless I had my rifle and plenty of ammunition. It was the track of agrizzly bear. I saw many tracks on this expedition and on othersafterwards but I have never seen a bear yet, except in captivity. Thegrizzly seemed to shun me; but I believe they will not often attack aman unprovoked, and will lie perfectly still while one may pass within afew feet of their hiding-place. Three or four deer were seen but with no opportunity to get a shot. Allthrough these upper canyons there was then a great abundance of game ofevery description, and had our object been to kill for sport, weundoubtedly could have made a pile of carcasses. One or two deer wouldhave been welcome but we had no time to pursue them. Steward came intowards night from his geologising with a splendid bouquet of wildflowers which was greatly admired. Prof. And the Major climbed west ofcamp to a height of 1200 feet where they obtained a wide outlook andsecured valuable notes on the topography. The view was superb as it isanywhere from a high point in this region. When they came back, theMajor entertained us by reading aloud _The Lay of the Last Minstrel_, thus delightfully closing a beautiful Sunday which every man hadenjoyed. In the morning soon after leaving this camp a dull roar ahead told ofour approach to Ashley Falls, for which we were on the lookout. The leftbank was immediately hugged as closely as possible and we droppedcautiously down to the head of the descent. An immense rock stuck up inthe middle of the river and the water divided on this and shot down oneach side in a sharp fall of about eight feet. Each was a clear chuteand not dangerous to look at, but the effect of so sudden a plunge onone of our loaded boats was too much of a problem for trial. A portagewas decided on. The left bank where we were was a mass of enormousbroken rocks where it seemed next to impossible to haul a boat. A foottrail was first built which led up some fifty feet above the river, andover, under and around huge boulders to a place down below where it wasproposed to carry the boats on skids. The cargoes were first taken overon our backs and when this was done we were about tired out. Our unitedstrength was required to work the _Dean_ down to the selected havenwithout injury. This was such extremely hard work that the Major andProf. Concluded to shoot the _Cañonita_ through, light, with no men inher, but controlled by one of our hundred-foot hawsers attached to eachend. She was started down and went through well enough, but filling withwater and knocking on hidden rocks. Prudence condemned this method andwe resorted to sliding and carrying the _Nell_ over the rocks as we haddone with the _Dean_, certain that sleep and food would wipe out ourweariness, but not injury to the boats which must be avoided by allmeans in our power. By the time we had placed the _Nell_ beside theother boats at the bottom it was sunset and too late to do anything butmake a camp. Just above the head of the fall was a rather level place ina clump of pines at the very edge of the river forming as picturesque acamp-ground as I have ever seen. A brilliant moon hung over the canyon, lighting up the foam of the water in strong contrast to the red firecrackling its accompaniment to the roar of the rapid. A lunar rainbowdanced fairy-like in the mists rising from the turmoil of the river. Thenight air was calm and mild. Prof. Read aloud from _Hiawatha_ and itseemed to fit the time and place admirably. We had few books with us;poems of Longfellow, Whittier, Emerson, and Scott, are all I remember, except a Bible my mother had given me. I suppose Cap. Had a Bible also, as he was very religious. The huge boulders which dammed the river had fallen from the cliffs onthe left within a comparatively recent time, transforming an ordinaryrapid into the fall; actually damming the water till it is smooth forhalf a mile above. The largest block of stone is the one in the middle. It is about twenty five feet square. The only white men on record toreach this place except the Major's other party, was General Ashley, thedistinguished fur trader with a number of trappers. In his search forfresh beaver grounds he led his party in rude buffalo-skin boats throughthis canyon in 1825. They had a hard time and nearly starved to death asthey depended for food on finding beaver and other game, in which theywere disappointed. On one of my trips over the rocks with cargo I made aslight detour on the return to see the boulder where the Major haddiscovered Ashley's name with a date. The letters were in black, justunder a slight projection and were surprisingly distinct considering theforty-six years of exposure. The "2" was illegible and looked like a"3. " None of our party seemed to know that it could have been only a "2"for by the year 1835 Ashley had sold out and had given up the furbusiness in the mountains. Considering his ability, his prominence, hishigh character, and his identification with the early history of theWest, there ought to be greater recognition of him than there has been. [Illustration: Red Canyon. Ashley Falls from Below. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] Below Ashley Falls the declivity of the river was very great with acorrespondingly swift current, in one rapid reaching a velocity of atleast fifteen miles an hour, and with waves that tossed our heavy boatslike feathers. These were the most violent rapids we had yet met, notexcepting the ones we had portaged. The cliffs, about 2500 feet high, ofred sandstone, were often almost perpendicular on both sides, or atleast they impressed us so at the time. There was much vegetation, pine, spruce, willow-leaved cottonwood, aspens, alder, etc. , which added tothe beauty and picturesqueness of the wild scenery. Beaman stopped eachday where possible and desirable to take photographs, and at these timesthe others investigated the surroundings and climbed up side canyonswhen they existed. Late in the afternoon we came out suddenly into asmall valley or park formerly called Little Brown's Hole, a notedrendezvous for trappers, and which we rechristened Red Canyon Park. Thiswas a beautiful place bounded by round mountains, into which our greatcliffs had temporarily resolved themselves, particularly on the right, the left side remaining pretty steep. Our camp was pitched under twolarge pine trees and every one was prepared, in the intervals of otherduties, to take advantage of this respite to patch up clothing, shoes, etc. , as well as to do what laundering was necessary. The river ran soquietly that we felt oppressed after the constant roaring since we hadentered Red Canyon. I remember climbing up at evening with one of mycompanions, to a high altitude where the silence was deathlike andoverpowering. Prof. And some of the others climbed to greater heightsfor topographical purposes, easily reaching an altitude of about 4000feet above the river in an air-line distance of about five miles. Herethey obtained a magnificent panorama in all directions, limited on thewest by the snowy chain of the Wasatch, and on the north by the WindRiver Range like white clouds on the horizon 200 miles away, and theycould trace the deep gorges of the river as they cleave the mountainsfrom distance to distance. Here we saw signs of abundant game, elk, deer, bear, etc. , but we had notime to go hunting as a business and the game refused to come to us. Each man had his work to accomplish so that we could get on. It wasimpracticable to go wandering over the mountains for game, much as wewould have enjoyed a change from our bacon and beans. One day, only, wasspent here for all purposes, geologising, topographic climbing, andworking out the notes from up the river, making repairs and all theother needful things that crowded upon us. Here it was that I did myfirst tailoring and performed a feat of which I have ever since beenproud; namely, transferring some coattails, from where they were of nouse, to the knees and seat of my trousers where they were invaluable. On June 8th, we left this "Camp Number 13" regretfully and plunged inbetween the cliffs again for about eight miles, running five rapids, when we emerged into a large valley known as Brown's Hole, where ourcliffs fell back for two or three miles on each side and became mountainranges. Pulling along for a couple of miles on a quiet river we weresurprised to discover on the left a white man's camp. Quickly landing welearned that it was some cattlemen's temporary headquarters (HarrellBrothers), and some of the men had been to Green River Station since ourdeparture from that place, the distance by trail not being half that byriver. They were expecting us and had brought some mail which was a gladsight for our eyes. These men had wintered about 2000 head of Texascattle in this valley, noted for the salubrity of its winter climatesince the days of the fur-hunters, and were on their way to the Pacificcoast. We made a camp near by, with a cottonwood of a peculiar "Y"shape, more stump than tree, to give what shade-comfort it could, andenjoyed the relaxation which came with the feeling that we had puttwenty-five miles of hard canyon behind, and were again in touch, thoughso briefly and at long range, with the outer world. As some of these menwere to go out to the railway the following Sunday and offered to carrymail for us, we began to write letters to let our friends know how wewere faring on our peculiar voyage. This "Brown's Hole" was the placeselected by a man who pretended to have been with the former party, forthe scene of that party's destruction which he reported to thenewspapers. He thought as it was called a "hole" it must be one of theworst places on this raging river, not knowing that in the old trapperdays when a man found a snug valley and dwelt there for a time it becameknown as his "hole" in the nomenclature of the mountains. The Major didnot think this a satisfactory name and he changed it to "Brown's Park"which it now bears. I met an "old timer" on a western train severalyears afterward, who was greatly irritated because of this liberty whichthe Major took with the cherished designation of the early days. FortDavy Crockett of the fur-trading period was located somewhere in thisvalley. [Illustration: In Red Canyon Park. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] The next morning after reaching Harrell's camp we were told that, asFrank did not seem able to stand the voyage he was to leave us here, togo over the mountains back to the railway, whence he would go home. Wewere all sorry to hear this and doubly sorry when on Sunday the 11th hemounted a mule and regretfully rode away with Mr. Harrell. The latterwas to telegraph to Salt Lake to Mrs. Powell, to send our mail back toGreen River Station so that it could be brought out to us on Mr. Harrell's return. Meanwhile we dropped down the river, now tranquil as apond, with low banks covered with cottonwood groves. There were twosmall canyons the first of which we called "Little" about one-half milelong, and the second "Swallow, " about two miles long. The cliffs werered sandstone about three hundred feet high, often vertical on bothsides. Thousands of swallows swarmed there, and we did not resist givingit an obvious name. Below this the water spread out more and was full ofislands. The current was sluggish, two miles an hour perhaps, and weindulged in the novelty of rowing the boats, though we did not try tomake speed, for we had to wait for Mr. Harrell's return anyhow. Theboats had been lightened by trading to Harrell some of our flour, ofwhich we had an over abundance when it came to portages, for fresh beef, of which we were very much in need. At a convenient place we landedwhere there was a fine cottonwood grove and remained while Prof. Made aclimb and to jerk the beef. It was cut into thin strips and hung on awillow framework in the sun with a slow fire beneath. As the thermometernow stood at ninety-nine in the shade the beef was fairly well cured bythe 13th and we went on, seeing one of the cattlemen and a Mexican boyon the left bank. In this neighbourhood we passed from Utah intoColorado. The river was six hundred feet broad and about six feet deep. We had no trouble from shoals, and finally lashed the three boats sideby side and let them drift along in the slow current. The Major sittingin his arm-chair on the middle boat read aloud selections from _The Ladyof the Lake_ which seemed to fit the scene well. Steward and Andy amusedthemselves by swimming along with the boats and occasionally divingunder them. From our noon camp in a grove of cottonwoods opposite the mouth ofVermilion River, we could plainly see the great portal a mile or twoaway, the Gate of Lodore, where all this tranquillity would end, for theriver cuts straight into the heart of the mountains forming one of thefinest canyons of the series where the water comes down as Southeydescribed it at Lodore, and the Major gave it that name. Before night wewere at the very entrance and made our camp there in a grove ofbox-elders. Every man was looking forward to this canyon with some dreadand before losing ourselves within its depths we expected to enjoy theletters from home which Mr. Harrell was to bring back from the railwayfor us. Myriads of mosquitoes gave us something else to think of, forthey were exceedingly ferocious and persistent, driving us to a highbluff where a smudge was built to fight them off. We were nearlydevoured. I fared best, a friend having given me a net for my head, andthis, with buckskin gloves on my hands enabled me to exist with somecomfort. The mountains rose abruptly just beyond our camp, and the rivercleaved the solid mass at one stroke, forming the extraordinary andmagnificent portal we named the "Gate of Lodore, " one of the moststriking entrances of a river into mountains to be found in all theworld. It is visible for miles. Prof. Climbed the left side of the Gateand also took observations for time. I was sent back to the valley to make some sketches and also toaccompany Steward on a geological tramp. We had an uncomfortableexperience because of the excessive heat and aridity. I learned severalthings about mountaineering that I never forgot, one of which was toalways thoroughly note and mark a place where anything is left to bepicked up on a return, for, leaving our haversack under a cedar iteluded all search till the next day, and meanwhile we were compelled togo to the river two or three miles away for water. We had a rubberponcho and a blanket. Using the rubber for a mattress and the blanketfor a covering we passed the night, starting early for the mountains, where at last we found our food bag. After eating a biscuit we went backto the river and made tea and toasted some beef on the end of a ramrod, when we struck for the main camp, arriving at dinner-time. The Gate of Lodore seemed naturally the beginning of a new stage in ourvoyage to which we turned with some anxiety, for it was in the gorge nowbefore us that on the first trip a boat had been irretrievably smashed. We were now 130 miles by river from the Union Pacific Railway crossing, and in this distance we had descended 700 feet in altitude, more than400 feet of it in Red Canyon. Lodore was said to have an even greaterdeclivity. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 5: Three points on Green River below the Union Pacificcrossing had been determined by previous explorers, the mouth of Henry'sFork, the mouth of the Uinta, and Gunnison Crossing. ] [Footnote 6: I do not know the number of men composing this party. ] CHAPTER IV Locked in the Chasm of Lodore--Rapids with Railway Speed--A Treacherous Approach to Falls of Disaster--Numerous Loadings and Unloadings--Over the Rocks with Cargoes--Library Increased by _Putnam's Magazine_--Triplet Falls and Hell's Half Mile--Fire in Camp--Exit from Turmoil to Peace. On Saturday the 17th of June, the member of the Harrell party who was totravel overland from Green River Station with mail for us from Salt Lakearrived with only two letters. The despatch had been too late to stopthe packet which already had been started for the Uinta Indian Agency, whence it would reach us at the mouth of the Uinta River. It would beanother month, at least, before we could receive those longed for wordsfrom home. There was nothing now to delay us further, and after dinnerthe boats were prepared for canyon work again. Through Brown's Park wehad not been obliged to pay much attention to "ship-shape" arrangements, but now the story was to be different. The cabins were packed withunusual care, the life-preservers were inflated and put where they couldbe quickly seized on the approach to a bad descent, and at four o'clockwe were afloat. The wide horizon vanished. The cliffs, red and majestic, rose at one bound to a height of about 2000 feet on each side, the mostabrupt and magnificent gateway to a canyon imaginable. We enteredslowly, for the current in the beginning is not swift, and we watchedthe mighty precipices while they appeared to fold themselves togetherbehind and shut us more than ever away from the surrounding wilderness. For a short time the stream was quite tame. Then the murmur of distanttroubled waters reached us and we prepared for work. The first rapid wasnot a bad one; we ran it without halting and ran three more in quicksuccession, one of which was rather ugly. [Illustration: The Head of the Canyon of Lodore. Just inside the Gate. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] This success caused some of us prematurely to conclude that perhaps "theway the water comes down at Lodore, " was not so terrific as had beenanticipated. The Major said nothing. He kept his eyes directed ahead. The river ran about 300 feet wide, with a current of 10 to 15 miles anhour in the rapids. At every bend new vistas of beauty were exhibited, and the cliffs impressed us more and more by their increasing height andsublimity. Landing places were numerous. Presently there came to ourears a roar with an undertone which spoke a language now familiar, andwe kept as close to the right bank as possible, so that a stop could beinstantly made at the proper moment. When this moment arrived a landingwas effected for examination, and it revealed a furious descent, studdedwith large rocks, with a possibility of safely running through it if anexact course could be held, but the hour being now late a camp was madeat the head and further investigation deferred till the next morning. This morning was Sunday, and the sun shone into the canyon with dazzlingbrilliancy, all being tranquil except the foaming rapid. The localitywas so fascinating that we lingered to explore, finding especialinterest in a delightful grotto carved out of the red sandstone by thewaters of a small brook. The entrance was narrow, barely 20 feet, a merecleft in the beginning, but as one proceeded up it between walls 1500feet high, the cleft widened, till at 15 rods it ended in anamphitheatre 100 feet in diameter, with a domed top. Clear, cold watertrickled and dropped in thousands of diamond-like globules fromeverything. Mosses and ferns filled all the crevices adding a brilliantgreen to the picture, while far up overhead a little ribbon of blue skycould be seen; and, beyond the mouth, the yellow river. It was anexquisite scene. At the request of Steward, it's discoverer, it wasnamed after his little daughter, "Winnie's Grotto. " So charming was ithere that we did not get off till ten o'clock, Beaman meanwhile takingseveral views. It was decided to run the rapid, for there was a comparatively straightchannel about ten feet wide, and it was only a question of steeringright. As our boat was to take it first the other crews came to a pointwhere they could watch us to advantage and profit by our experience. Sticks, as usual, had been thrown in to determine the trend of the maincurrent which must always be considered in dealing with any rapid. If itdashes against a cliff below, means must be found to cut across beforereaching that point. On the other hand, if the main current has acomparatively clear chute, running through is not a difficult matter asin the present case. We pulled up-stream a short distance before puttingout into the middle. Then we took the rapid as squarely as possible. Wesaw that we would have to go sharply to the left to avoid one line ofrocks, and then to the right to clear another, both of which actionswere successfully accomplished. Then we waited below for the others. They had no trouble either, and the three boats sped on and on into thegreater depths beyond where wilder waters were foaming. All rapids have "tails" of waves tapering out below, that is the wavesgrow smaller as they increase the distance from the initial wave. Thesewaves are the reverse of sea waves, the form remaining in practicallyone place while the water flies through. In many rapids there is an eddyon each side of this tail in which a current runs up-river with greatforce. If a boat is caught in this eddy it may be carried a second timethrough a part of the rapid. We soon arrived at another rapid in whichthis very thing happened to our boat. We were caught by the eddy andcarried up-stream to be launched directly into the path of the _Nell_, which had started down. Prof. Skilfully threw his boat to one side andsucceeded in avoiding a collision. Nothing could be done with our boatbut to let her go where she would for the moment. We then ran two otherrapids, rough ones too, but there was no trouble in them for any of theboats. The velocity at this stage of water was astonishing, and theopportunities to land in quiet water between the rapids now were few. [Illustration: Canyon of Lodore. Low water. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1874. ] About dinner-time as we emerged at high speed from one rapid we sawimmediately below lying in ominous shadow, another. It had a forbiddinglook. In Red Canyon owing to the east-and-west trend the sun fell to thebottom for many more hours than in Lodore which has a north-and-southtrend. Hence here even at high noon, one side or the other might be indeep shadow. In this particular case it was the left wall which camedown very straight to the river, the outside of a bend. Opposite was arocky, wooded point. Between these the rapid swept down. There was noslack water separating the end of the rapid we left from the beginningof this one so obscurely situated. Landing was no easy task at the speedwith which we were flying, but it would not do to try to run the rapidwithout an examination. The only possible place to stop was on the rightwhere there was a cove with a little strip of beach, and we headed forit instantly, pulling with every muscle. Yet we continued going on downat railway speed. When at last we arrived within a few feet of the bankthe problem was how to stop. The water appeared shallow, though we couldnot see bottom on account of its murky character, and there was only onecourse, which was to jump out and make anchors of our legs. As we did sowe sank to our waists and were pulled along for a moment but our feet, braced against the large rocks on the bottom, served the purpose and themomentum was overcome. Once the velocity was gone it was easy to get theboat to the beach, and she was tied there just in time to allow us torush to the help of the _Nell_. [7] Scarcely had the _Nell_ been tied upthan the _Cañonita_ came darting for the same spot like a locomotive. With the force on hand she was easily controlled, and the fact that shecarried the cook outfit as well as the cook added to our joy at havingher so speedily on the beach. Andy went to work immediately to build afire and prepare dinner while the rest overhauled the boats, tookobservations, plotted notes, or did other necessary things, and theMajor and Prof. Went down to take a close look at the rapid which hadcaused us such sudden and violent exertion. They reported a clearchannel in the middle, and when we continued after dinner, we wentthrough easily and safely, as of course we could have done in the firstplace if the Major had been willing to take an unknown risk. But in theshadow the fall might have been almost anything and it would have beenfoolhardy to run it without examination, even though we found it so hardto stop. Below the rapid that had halted us so abruptly there wasnothing for about a mile but easy running, when we stopped in a cove toexamine another rapid. Prof. Here started up eleven mountain sheep, butby the time he had come back to the boats for a gun they were beyondreach. Though this rapid could be easily run, there was just below itonly a short distance the fall where the _No-Name_ was wrecked on thefirst trip, and we would have to be cautious, for the approach to thatfall we knew was treacherous. The river comes at this point from the east, bends south, then west, andit is just at the western bend that the steep rush of the big fallbegins and continues for three-quarters of a mile. On the right thewaters beat fiercely against the foot of the perpendicular wall, whileon the left they are confined by a rocky point, the end of which iscomposed of enormous blocks. The space for the stream between this pointand the opposite cliff is narrow, while the river above it spreadsrather wide with a deep bay on the left where there is quiet water. Thisbay is protected a quarter of a mile up by a jutting point, and ismerely back water. Just off the point the whole river suddenly becomessaucer-like, and quite smooth, with all the currents drawing strongly infrom every direction and pouring toward and over the falls. An objectonce within the grip of this "sag, " as we called it, is obliged to passover the falls. The situation is peculiar and it occurs nowhere else onthe whole river. Not being understood on the first voyage one of theboats, the _No-Name_, was trapped, driven over the falls, and broken tofragments, though the men were rescued below. The disaster was the causeof some unpleasantness on that voyage, the men blaming the Major for notsignalling properly and he blaming them for not landing quickly when hesignalled. We were on the lookout for it and the Major having the wreck toemphasise the peculiarities of the "sag" desired to have every boat turnthe point at the correct moment. Ours ran through the preliminary rapideasily and we dropped cautiously down upon our great enemy, hugging theleft bank as closely as we could to reach the jutting point around whichthe boat must pass to arrive in the safe waters of the bay. We turnedthe point with no difficulty, and proceeded a distance across the baywhere we landed on a beach to watch for the other boats, the steersmenhaving been informed as to the precariousness of the locality. Nevertheless it was so deceptive that when the _Nell_ came in sight shewas not close enough to the left shore for safety. The Major signalledvigorously with his hat, and Prof. Took the warning instantly and turnedin, but when the _Cañonita_ appeared we saw at once that she wasaltogether too far out and for some seconds we stood almost petrifiedwhile the Major again signalled with all his might. It seemed an evenchance; then she gained on the current and finally reached good waterwhence she came to our position. Beaman had been a pilot on the GreatLakes and was expert with a steering-oar, and probably for that reasonhe was somewhat careless. There was hardly an excuse in this instancefor a boat not to take the proper course for the experience of the_No-Name_ told the whole story, yet the place is so peculiar and unusualthat one even forewarned may fail. Across the bay pulling was safe andwe ran to a beach very close to the head of the falls where we made ourcamp, the sun now being low and the huge cliffs casting a profound andsombre shadow into the bottom. It was a wild, a fierce, an impressivesituation. The unending heavy roar of the tumbling river, the difficultyif not impossibility of turning back even if such a thing had beendesired, the equal difficulty if not impossibility of scaling the wallsthat stood more than 2000 feet above us, and the general sublimity ofthe entire surroundings, rendered our position to my mind intenselydramatic. Two years before, on this identical spot the Major had campedwith the loss of one of his boats bearing heavily on his mind, thoughhis magnificent will, his cheerful self-reliance, and his unconquerabledetermination to dominate any situation gave him power and allied him tothe river itself. The place practically chose its own name, DisasterFalls, and it was so recorded by the topographers. A hard portage was ahead of us and all turned in early to prepare by agood sleep for the long work of the next day. No tent as a rule waserected unless there was rain, and then a large canvas from each boatwas put up on oars or other sticks, the ends being left open. In adriving storm a blanket would answer to fill in. As there was now noindication of a storm our beds were placed on the sand as usual with thesides of the canyon for chamber walls and the multitudinous stars forroof. A short distance below the great rapid near which we were camped was asecond equally bad, the two together making up the three-quarter miledescent of Disaster Falls. Between them the river became level for abrief space and wider, and a deposit of boulders and gravel appearedthere in the middle above the surface at the present stage of water. Itwas this island which had saved the occupants of the _No-Name_, and fromwhich they were rescued. We were up very early in the morning, and began to carry the cargoes bya trail we made over and around the huge boulders to a place below thebad water of the first fall. The temperature was in the 90's and it washot work climbing with a fifty-pound sack on one's back, but at lastafter many trips back and forth every article was below. Then the emptyboats were taken one at a time, and by pulling, lifting, and sliding onskids of driftwood, and by floating wherever practicable in the quieteredges of the water, we got them successfully past the first fall. Herethe loads were replaced, and with our good long and strong lines an inchthick, the boats were sent down several hundred yards in the ratherlevel water referred to intervening between the foot of the upper falland the head of the lower, to the beginning of the second descent. Thisall occupied much time, for nothing could be done rapidly, and nooncame, in the midst of our work. Anticipating this event Andy had goneahead with his cook outfit and had baked the dinner bread in his Dutchoven. With the usual fried bacon and coffee the inner man was speedilyfortified for another wrestle with the difficult and laborioussituation. The dinner bread was baked from flour taken out of ahundred-pound sack that was found lying on top of an immense boulder farabove the river. This was flour that had been rescued by the formerparty from the wreckage of the _No-Name_, but as they could not add itto their remaining heavily laden boats, the Major had been compelled toleave it lying here. They needed it badly enough towards the end. It wasstill sweet and good, but we could not take it either. We were so muchbetter provisioned than the former party that it was, besides, notnecessary for us, and we also left it where it was. Our supplies werenot likely to fail us at the mouth of the Uinta, and beyond that therewas not yet need to worry. Although there were only two points belowGunnison Crossing in a distance of nearly 600 miles where it was knownthat the river could be reached, the Crossing of the Fathers and themouth of the Paria not far below it, we felt sure that those who hadbeen charged with the bringing of supplies to the mouth of the "DirtyDevil" would be able to get there, and as we were to stop for the seasonat the Paria, we would have time to plan for beyond. In any case ourboats were carrying now all they could, and without a regret we turnedour backs on the outcast flour. It was an ordinary sack of bolted wheatflour, first in a cotton bag then in a gunny bag and had been lyingunbroken for two years. The outside for half an inch was hard, butinside of that the flour was in excellent condition. Two oars were alsofound. They were doubtless from the _No-Name_. [Illustration: F. S. Dellenbaugh The Heart of Lodore. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] After dinner we once more unloaded the boats and carried everything onour backs up and across a long rocky hill, or point, down to a spot, about a third of a mile altogether, where the goods were piled on asmooth little beach at the margin of a quiet bay. It took many trips, and it was exhausting work, but in addition to bringing the cargoesdown, we also by half past five got one of the boats there, by workingit over the rocks and along the edge. Here we camped and had supper assoon as Andy could get it ready. It may be asked by some not familiarwith scientific work, how we always knew the time, but as we had thenecessary instruments for taking time astronomically, there was nothingdifficult about it. We also carried fine chronometers, and had a numberof watches. In the sand near the camp, which place at highest water might haveformed an eddy behind some huge rocks, a few old knives, forks, a rustybake oven, and other articles were found, the wreckage from some partyprior to that of the Major's first. He said they had not left anythingof that sort, and he had noticed the same things on the former trip. The total fall of the river here is about fifty feet, and no boat couldget through without smashing. The morning of June 20th found us early at work bringing down the twoboats we had left, and as soon as this was accomplished the cargoes wereput on once more, and we lowered the three one at a time, along the leftbank by means of our hundred-foot hawsers, with everything in them, about a quarter of a mile to another bad place which we called LowerDisaster Falls. Here we unloaded and made a short portage while Andy wasgetting dinner. When we had disposed of this and reloaded, we pulledinto the river, which averaged about 350 feet wide, with a current inplaces of 15 miles or more, and quickly arrived at three bad rapids insuccession, all of which we ran triumphantly, though the former partymade portages around them. In the third our boat took in so much waterthat we made a landing in order to bail out. Continuing immediately wereached another heavy rapid, but ran it without even stopping toreconnoitre, as the way seemed perfectly clear. We took the next rapidwith equal success, though our boat got caught in an eddy and was turnedcompletely round, while the others ran past us. They landed to wait, andthere we all took a little breathing spell before attempting to runanother rapid just below which we made camp in a grove of cedars, at thebeginning of a descent that looked so ugly it was decided to make a"let-down" on the following day. Everybody was wet to the skin and gladto get on some dry clothes, as soon as we could pull out our bags. Thecliffs had now reached an altitude of at least 2500 feet, and theyappeared to be nearly perpendicular, but generally not from the water'sedge where there was usually a bank of some kind or the foot of a steeptalus. There were box-elder and cottonwood trees here and there, andcedars up the cliffs wherever they could find a footing. On the heightstall pine trees could be seen. The cliff just opposite camp was almostvertical from the rapid at its foot to the brink 2500 feet above, andflame red. After supper as we all sat in admiration and peering with some awe atthe narrow belt of sky, narrower than we had before seen it, the starsslowly came out, and presently on the exact edge of the magnificentprecipice, set there like a diadem, appeared the Constellation of theHarp. It was an impressive sight, and immediately the name was bestowed"The Cliff of the Harp. "[8] Prof. Read _Marmion_ aloud, and Jack gave us a song or two, before wewent to sleep feeling well satisfied with our progress into the heart ofLodore. This portion of the river has a very great declivity, the greatest as weafterwards determined on the entire Green and Colorado with theexception of a section of Cataract and a part of the First Granite Gorgeof the Grand Canyon, where the declivity is much the same, with CataractCanyon in the lead. A quarter-mile above our camp a fine little stream, Cascade Creek, came in on the right. Beaman made some photographs in themorning, and we began to work the boats down along the edge of the rapidbeside which we had camped. This took us till noon, and we had dinnerbefore venturing on. When we set forth we had good luck, and soon putfour rapids behind, running the first, letting down past two and runningthe fourth which was a pretty bad one. Three-quarters of a mile ofsmooth water then gave us a respite much appreciated, when we arrived ata wild descent about as bad as Disaster Falls, though more safelyapproached. This was called Triplet Falls by the first party. We wentinto camp at the head of it on the left bank. This day we found a numberof fragments of the _No-Name_ here and there, besides an axe and a viseabandoned by the first party, and a welcome addition to our library in acopy of _Putnam's Magazine_. This was the first magazine ever topenetrate to these extreme wilds. The river was from 300 to 400 feetwide, and the walls ran along with little change, about 2500 feet high. Opposite camp was Dunn's Cliff, the end of the Sierra Escalante, about2800 feet high, named for one of the first party who was killed by theIndians down in Arizona. We remained a day here to let the topographersclimb out if they could. They had little trouble in doing this, andafter a pleasant climb reached the top through a gulch at an altitudeabove the river of 3200 feet. The view was extensive and their effortswere rewarded by obtaining much topographical information. Late in theday the sky grew dark, the thunder rolled, and just before supper we hada good shower. [Illustration: Canyon of Lodore--Dunn's Cliff. 2800 Feet above River. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] On the 23d progress was continued and every one felt well after thecessation for a day of the knocking about amidst the foam and boulders. It took us, with hard work, till two o'clock to get past Triplet Fallsby means of a double portage. About half a mile below this we wereconfronted by one of the worst looking places we had yet seen, and atthe suggestion of Steward it received the significant name of "Hell'sHalf Mile. " The entire river for more than half a mile was one sheet ofwhite foam. There was not a quiet spot in the whole distance, and thewater plunged and pounded in its fierce descent and sent up a deafeningroar. The only way one could be heard was to yell with full lung power. Landing at the head of it easily we there unloaded the _Dean_ and lether down by line for some distance. In the worst place she capsized butwas not damaged. Then the water, near the shore we were on, thoughturbulent in the extreme became so shallow on account of the great widthof the rapid here that when we had again loaded the _Dean_ there wereplaces where we were forced to walk alongside and lift her over rocks, but several men at the same time always had a strong hold on the shoreend of the line. In this way we got her down as far as was practicableby that method. At this point the river changed. The water became moreconcentrated and consequently deeper. It was necessary to unload theboat again and work her on down with a couple of men in her and the restholding the line on shore as we had done above. When the roughest partwas past in this manner, we made her fast and proceeded to carry hercargo down to this spot which took some time. It was there put on boardagain and the hatches firmly secured. The boat was held firmly behind ahuge sheltering rock and when all was ready her crew took their places. With the Major clinging to the middle cabin, as his chair had been leftabove and would be carried down later, we shoved out into the swiftcurrent, here free from rocks, and literally bounded over the waves thatformed the end of the descent, to clear water where we landed on a snuglittle beach and made the boat secure for the night. Picking our wayalong shore back to the head of the rapid, camp was made there as thedarkness was falling and nothing more could be done that night. [Illustration: Jones, Hillers, F. S. Dellenbaugh Canyon of Lodore. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] It was next to impossible to converse, but every one being very tired itwas not long after supper before we took to the blankets and not a manwas kept awake by the noise. It seemed only a few moments before it wastime to go at it again. All hands were up early and the other two boatswere taken laboriously down in the same manner as the _Dean_ had beenengineered, but though we toiled steadily it was one o'clock by the timewe succeeded in placing them alongside that boat. Anticipating this, Andy's utensils were taken down on the _Nell_, and while we were workingwith the _Cañonita_, our good chef prepared the dinner and we stoppedlong enough to fortify ourselves with it. Having to build a trail insome places in order to carry the goods across ridges and boulders, itwas not alone the work on lowering the boats which delayed us. While wewere absorbed in these operations the camp-fire of the morning in someway spread unperceived into the thick sage-brush and cedars whichcovered the point, and we vacated the place none too soon, for theflames were leaping high, and by the time we had finished our dinner atthe foot of the rapid, the point we had so recently left was a horriblefurnace. The fire was jumping and playing amidst dense smoke whichrolled a mighty column, a thousand feet it seemed to me above the top ofthe canyon; that is over 3000 feet into the tranquil air. At two o'clock all three boats were again charging down on a stiffcurrent with rather bad conditions, though we ran two sharp rapidswithout much trouble. In one the _Nell_ got on a smooth rock and camenear capsizing. The current at the spot happened to be not so swift andshe escaped with no damage. Then we were brought up by another rapid, avery bad one. Evening was drawing on and every man was feeling somewhatused up by the severe exertions of the day. Camp was therefore orderedat the head of this rapid in the midst of scenery that has probably asgreat beauty, picturesqueness, and grandeur as any to be found in thewhole West. I hardly know how to describe it. All day long thesurroundings had been supremely beautiful, majestic, but at this campeverything was on a superlative scale and words seem colourless andfutile. The precipices on both sides, about 2200 feet high, conveyed theimpression of being almost vertical. Our camp was several hundred yardsfrom the rapid and we could talk with some comfort. After supper Iwandered alone down beside the furiously plunging waters and came upon abrood of young magpies airing themselves on the sand. The roar of thefall prevented their hearing and I walked among them, picked one up andtook it to camp to show their comicality, when I let it go back to therendezvous. I was censured especially by the Major, for cruelty toanimals. The next day was Sunday and it came with a radiance that furtherenhanced the remarkable grandeur around us. Near by was a side canyon ofthe most picturesque type, down which a clear little brook danced fromledge to ledge and from pool to pool, twenty to thirty feet at a time. We named it Leaping Brook. The rocks were mossy, and fir trees, pines, cedars, and cottonwoods added the charm of foliage to the brilliantcolours of the rocks and the sheen of falling water, here and there lostin the most profound shadows. Beaman made a number of views while therest of the men climbed for various purposes. Steward, Clem, and I by acircuitous route arrived at a point high up on Leaping Brook where thescene was beyond description. To save trouble on the return we descendedthe brook as it was easy to slide down places that could not be climbed. In this manner we succeeded in getting to the last descent near camp, todiscover that it was higher than we thought and almost vertical withrough rocks at the bottom. As we could not go back and had no desire tobreak a leg, we were in trouble. Then we spied Jack in the camp a shortdistance away and called to him to put a tree up for us. Good-naturedJack, always ready to help, assumed a gruff tone and pretended he wouldnever help us, but we knew better, and presently he threw up a long deadpine which we could reach by a short slide, and thus got to the riverlevel. It was now noon, and as soon as dinner was over the boats werelowered by lines past the rapid beside camp and once below this we shoton our way with a fine current, soon arriving at two moderate rapidsclose together, which we ran. This brought us to a third with an uglylook, but on examination Prof. And the Major decided to run it. Gettinga good entrance all the boats went through without the slightest mishap. A mile below this place we landed at the mouth of a pretty little streamentering through a picturesque and narrow canyon on the left. We calledit Alcove Brook. Beaman took some negatives here. This was not the easy matter that thedry-plate afterwards made it, for the dark tent had to be set up, theglass plate flowed with collodion, then placed in the silver bath, andexposed wet in the camera, to be immediately developed and washed andplaced in a special box for carriage. This would have been an ideal place for a hunter. Numerous fresh tracksof grizzlies were noticed all around, but we did not have the good luckto see any of the animals themselves. Happy grounds these canyons wereat that time for the bears, and they may still be enjoying the seclusionthe depths afford. The spot had an additional interest for us because itwas here that on the first trip the brush caught fire soon after theparty had landed, and they were forced to take to the boats sounceremoniously that they lost part of their mess-kit and some clothing. On leaving Alcove Brook we ran a rapid and then another a little fartheron, but they were easy and the river was much calmer though the currentwas still very swift. At the same time the walls to our satisfactionbegan to give indications of breaking. They became less high, lesscompact, and we ventured to hope that our battle with the waters ofLodore was about over. The Major said that, as nearly as he couldremember, the end of the great gorge was not very far below. Though thesky was beginning to show the evening tints we kept on and ever on, swiftly but smoothly, looking up at the sky and at the splendid walls. The sun went down. The chasm grew hazy with the soft light of eveningand the mystery of the bends deepened. There was no obstruction and inabout three miles from Alcove Brook we rather abruptly emerged into abeautiful small opening, where the immediate walls were no more than sixhundred feet high. A river of considerable size flowed in on the left, through a deep and narrow canyon. This was the Yampa, sometimes thencalled Bear River. By seven o'clock we had moored the boats a few yardsup its mouth and we made a comfortable camp in a box-elder grove. Wehad won the fight without disaster and we slept that night in peace. Lodore is wholly within the State of Colorado. It is 20-3/4 miles longwith a descent of 420 feet, [9] mostly concentrated between DisasterFalls and Hell's Half-Mile, a distance of about 12 miles. The totaldescent from the Union Pacific crossing was 975 feet in a distance, asthe river runs, of about 153 miles. [Illustration: Echo Park. Mouth of Yampa River in Foreground, Green River on Right. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 7: Professor Thompson's diary says he landed first after ahard pull, "and then caught the other boats below, they not succeedingin getting in. "] [Footnote 8: In his report the Major ascribes the naming of this cliffto an evening on the first voyage. The incident could hardly haveoccurred twice even had the camps been in the same place. ] [Footnote 9: In my _Romance of the Colorado River_ these figures werechanged to 275 because of barometrical data supplied me which wassupposed to be accurate. I have concluded that it was not. ] CHAPTER V A Remarkable Echo--Up the Canyon of the Yampa--Steward and Clem Try a Moonlight Swim--Whirlpool Canyon and Mountain Sheep--A Grand Fourth-of-July Dinner--A Rainbow-Coloured Valley--The Major Proceeds in Advance--A Split Mountain with Rapids a Plenty--Enter a Big Valley at Last. The little opening between canyons we named Echo Park, first becauseafter the close quarters of Lodore it seemed very park-like, and secondbecause from the smooth bare cliff directly opposite our landing adistinct echo of ten words was returned to the speaker. I had neverbefore, and have never since, heard so clear and perfect an echo with somany words repeated. We were camped on the right bank of the Yampa asthe left was a bottom land covered with cedars and we preferred higherground. This bottom was an alluvial deposit triangular in shape about amile long and a quarter of a mile wide with the Yampa and Green on twosides and a vertical sandstone wall on the third. Behind our camp therocks broke back in a rough, steep slope for perhaps a quarter of amile, and this with the bottom-land and the lack of height in the wallsnear the river conveyed an impression of wide expanse when compared withthe narrow limits in which we had for eight days been confined. TheGreen was here about 400 feet wide and was held in on the western sideof the park by the Echo Cliff which was a vertical wall some 600 feethigh composed of homogeneous sandstone, and consequently almost withouta crack from top to bottom where its smooth expanse dropped below thesurface of the water. It extended down river about three-fourths of amile, the river doubling around its southern end. The next day after arriving here most of us did not feel like doing anyclimbing and remained around camp, mending clothes and other articles, adjusting things that had become deranged by our rough work in the lastcanyon, recording notes, and making entries in diaries. Prof. Tookobservations for latitude and longitude to establish the position of theYampa so that it could be properly placed on the map. The Major duringan exploring trip from the eastward in 1868 had reached the YampaCanyon, but he could not cross it. He now decided to go up with a boatas far as possible in three days to supplement his former observationsas well as to study the canyon in general. He had estimated its lengthat thirty miles, and this has proved to be correct. The _Dean_ wasunloaded, and with three days' rations the Major started with her in themorning manned by Jack, Beaman, Jones, and Andy. Of course they were allstill tired from the strain of Lodore, and they were not enthusiasticabout seeing the Yampa. In such work as was common through Lodore, it isas much the tension on the nerves, even though this is not realised atthe time, as it is the strain on the muscles in transporting the cargoesand the boats, which makes one tired. I was entirely satisfied not togo with the Yampa party and I believe all the others left behind feltmuch the same. Steward with Clem, when the Yampa expedition had gone, started back overthe cliffs for Alcove Brook to geologise, leaving Prof. Busy withobservation, Cap. Plotting the topographical notes and making his mapthereby, and me with no special duty at the time. Every man who wants tobe efficient in the field must learn to cook. This was my opportunity asAndy was absent and the others had their special work on hand, so Iturned my attention to the culinary realm. A few directions and anexample from Cap. Who was a veteran gave me the method and I succeededas my first offering, in placing before my comrades some biscuits hotfrom the Dutch oven, which compared favourably with those of Andyhimself. With the constant practice Andy by this time had become anexpert. The day wore away and at evening I got supper with more biscuitsof which I was proud, but Steward and Clem failed to come to partake ofthem as we expected. Darkness fell and still there was dead silenceoutside of our camp. Much concerned we then ate supper momentarilyexpecting to hear their voices, but they did not come. Something hadhappened, but we could not follow their trail till morning to find outwhat it was. At ten o'clock we gave them up for the night deeplytroubled about them. I had been sitting alone by the fire keeping thecoffee hot and listening, when suddenly I heard a crackling of thebushes between me and the river and in a second or two Clem, laughing asover a joke, came to the fire with the water running off him in streams. While I was trying to get an explanation Steward also appeared in thesame condition. At first they would not tell what had occurred butfinally they confessed on condition that I would keep the matter asecret. They had made a long hard climb and late in the afternoon hadcome to a place where Steward found it necessary to descend to the riverin examining the strata. They intended to climb back, but when the workwas done the sun had set and it was too late to venture up as they couldnot climb in the dark. Rather than stay there all night they made a raftof two little dead cedars and tying their shoes upon it, they waited forthe moon to rise. This was very soon and they slipped into the currentrelying on the raft merely to keep their heads above water. They knewthere were no rapids between them and camp but they did not properlyestimate the velocity of the river and the eddies and whirlpools. Theykept near the left wall so as not to be carried past camp and in thisthey made a great mistake for they were caught in a whirlpool caused bya projection, and the raft was wrenched from them while they wereviolently thrown around. Steward being a powerful swimmer succeededafter nearly going under for good in regaining the raft which Clemmeanwhile had been losing and recovering quickly several times. He wasnot a good swimmer. After this whirlpool was passed they reached thelocality of our camp with no further adventure. They were very desirousthat the story be kept from the rest of the party but they had hardlyfinished telling me when Prof. Came and insisted on knowing what hadoccurred. Their punishment for this indiscretion was the hard climb backagain to where they had left a rifle and other things that must berecovered. A delightful episode of this camp was a row which several of us made upthe Yampa in the moonlight. As far as we went the current was not swiftand we were able to pull gently along under the great cliffs in shadowsmade luminous by the brilliancy of the moon. A song the Major was fondof singing, _Softly and Sweetly it Comes from Afar_, almostinvoluntarily, sprang from us all, though our great songster, Jack, wasnot with us. Jack had an extensive repertory, an excellent voice, and ahearty, exuberant spirit. He would sing _Write Me a Letter from Home_, _The Colleen Bawn_, _The Lone Starry Hours_, _Beautiful Isle of theSea_, and many others in a way that brought tranquillity to our souls. We missed him on this evening but nevertheless our song sounded well, echoing from wall to wall, and we liked it. Somehow or other that nightremains one of the fairest pictures I have ever seen. Another day I went with Steward down across the triangular bottom to thelower end of the park where we climbed out through the canyon of alittle brook to a sandy and desolate plateau. Currant bushes laden withfruit abounded and there were tracks of grizzlies to be seen. Possiblysome may have been lying in the dense underbrush, but if so they kepttheir lairs as these bears generally do unless directly disturbed. On the 30th of June Prof. , Steward, and Cap. Went for a climb. Theyproceeded to the lower end of the park by boat and through the littlecanyon that came in there, got out to the plateau where Steward and Ihad before been, but there they went farther. After a very hard climbthey succeeded in reaching the crest where they had a broad view andcould see nearly all of the next canyon with its rapids which we wouldhave to pass through; the canyon the Major had called Whirlpool on hisfirst trip. They could also see the Yampa River for twenty miles anddiscovered the _Dean_ coming back down that stream, their attentionbeing attracted by a gunshot in that direction, which they knew could beonly from our own men. In camp during the day I again experimented inthe culinary department, and produced two dried-apple pies, one of whichClem and I ate with an indescribable zest, and the other we kept toastonish the absentees with when they should reach camp. I have sincelearned that my method of pie-making was original I soaked the driedapples till they were soft then made a crust which had plenty of bacongrease in it for shortening and put the apples with sugar between, baking the production in the Dutch oven. About five o'clock the Yampa explorers came. They were ragged, tired, and hungry having had nothing to eat all day, and not enough any day, asthe Major had not taken sufficient supplies in his desire to make theboat light. They were all rather cross, the only time on the wholeexpedition that such a state existed, but when they had eaten and restedtheir genial spirits came back, they even liked my pie, and they told usabout their struggle up the canyon. We were all rather sorry to pull away from this comfortable camp at themouth of the Yampa on July 3d, but the rapids of Whirlpool werechallenging and we had to go and meet them. At the foot of Echo Park theGreen doubles directly back on itself for a mile as it turns Echo Rock, the narrow peninsula of sandstone 600 feet high. The canyon becamesuddenly very close and assumed a formidable appearance. We listened forthe roar of a rapid but for some time nothing was heard. The splendourof the walls impressed us deeply rising 2000 feet, many coloured, carved, and terraced elaborately. Our admiration was interrupted by asuggestive roar approaching and suddenly a violent rapid appeared. Therewas ample room and we got below it by a let-down, that is by loweringthe boats one at a time with their cargoes on board, along the margin, working in and out of the side currents. Then we had dinner whilewaiting for the _Cañonita_ which had remained behind for pictures. A part of my work was to make a continuous outline sketch of the leftwall for the use of the geologists and this I was able to do as we wentalong. I had a pocket on the bulkhead in front of my seat in which Ikept a sole leather portfolio, which I could use quickly and replace inthe waterproof pocket. The walls of the canyon became more flaring as soon as the rapid waspassed at noon, but they lost none of their majesty. We now expectedvery bad river and whirlpools from the experience of the first party, but the river is never twice alike. Not only does its bottom shift, butevery variation in stage of water brings new problems or does away withthem entirely. It was an agreeable surprise to be able to run threerapids with ease by four o'clock, when we saw on some rocks two hundredfeet above the stream a flock of mountain sheep. An immediate landingwas made with fresh mutton in prospect. Unluckily our guns inanticipation of severe work had all been securely packed away, and itwas some moments before they could be brought out. By that time thesheep had nimbly gone around a corner of the wall where a large sidecanyon was now discovered bringing in a fine creek. It was useless tofollow the sheep though one or two made a brief trial, and camp was madein a cottonwood grove at the mouth of the creek. Cottonwoods fringed thestream as far as it could be seen from our position. Brush Creek wecalled it believing it to be the mouth of a stream in the back countryknown by that name. The next day, two or three miles up, a branch wasfound to come from the south, and as this was thought to be Brush Creek, the larger one was named after Cap. , and "Bishop's Creek" was put on ourmap. Doubtless there are plenty of trout in this creek and in others wehad passed, but we had no proper tackle for trout and besides seldom hadtime for fishing when at these places. Jack, when not too tired, fishedin the Green and generally had good success. Our present locality wouldhave been a rare place for a month or two's sojourn had we beensportsmen with time on our hands. Sheep, deer, and bear existed inabundance as well as smaller game, but we had to forget it though noneof us cared about shooting for fun. Our minds were on other things. Often we went out leaving rifles behind as they were heavy in a climb. [Illustration: Whirlpool Canyon. Mouth of Bishop Creek--Fourth of July Camp. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] Scarcely had we settled ourselves in this beautiful camp when wediscovered that we ourselves were the hunted, and by an enemy that wecould not vanquish--ants. There was no place in the neighbourhood thatwas out of their range. The best I could do was to make my bed two feetfrom the nearest hill and let them have their way. Morning was hailedwith unusual delight for this reason and also because it was the"glorious Fourth, " a day that every American remembers wherever he maybe. We fired several rounds as a salute, and the Major concluded to keepthis camp till the next morning. To enable Andy to have a day off and aclimb out with a party to the open, I agreed to run the cook outfit, andfelt highly complimented that they were willing to trust me after thepie episode. I immediately resolved to try my skill again in thatquarter and expected to astonish the camp. I succeeded. The bill of farewhich I evolved was ham, dried-apple pie, dried apples stewed, cannedpeaches, sugar syrup, bread, coffee, and some candy from Gunther's inChicago. The candy had been presented to me at Green River Station bysome passing friends, and I had hidden it in my bag waiting for thisgrand occasion. Ham was quite as much of a luxury as candy, for we hadstarted with but three or four, and only used them on special days. Asfor the canned peaches, they were the only ones we had. The supper was amemorable one; not a grumble was heard from anybody, indeed they allpraised it, and the only drawback, from my point of view, was that thescouting party did not return early enough to taste it in its prime. TheMajor threatened to expel the member who had smuggled in the candy asall the men declared they would go no farther unless they could have aplate of it for desert at every meal! The next morning we were on the river early, glad to get away from thearmy of ants. The canyon walls ran along at about the same height as onthe previous day, about 2400 feet, and while the river was swift andfull of rapids everything seemed to favour us. Before halting for dinnerwe had run five rapids, three rather ugly, as well as letting down pastone with lines. From where a stop was made for Andy's noondayoperations, a flock of sheep was seen on the opposite side, and severalwent after them with no result but disappointment. When we started againwe ran a rapid at once, then let down past the next, and followed thatby running two more, the last the worst. The boats bumped occasionallyon hidden rocks, but no harm was done them. The whole canyon wasexceedingly beautiful, nevertheless we did not mourn when late in theafternoon, just after running the last rapid, the magnificent cliffsfell back and we saw more sky than at any time since leaving Brown'sPark. On the right the rocks melted away into beautiful rainbow-colouredhills while on the left they remained steep, though retreating a mile orso from the water. The stretch of sky seemed enormous. Breathingappeared to be easier. The eye grows weary with the short range views, and yearns for space in which to roam. The valley we were now in was not long; about four miles in a straightline, with a width of two. In this space the river meanders nine miles, one detour being very long. It spreads also amongst a number of islands, and the numerous channels became shallow till our keels grated here andthere. Then they concentrated once more and we floated along on watersdeep and black and slow. The marvellous colouring in the surroundinglandscape impressed us, and the Major was for a time uncertain whetherto call this "Rainbow" or "Island" Park, the decision finally beinggiven to the latter. Shortly before sunset our meanderings terminated atthe foot of the valley where the river once more entered the rocks, in agateway as abrupt, though not as imposing as that of Lodore. A finegrove of box-elders on the right just above this gate, offered anattractive camping place, and there we stopped. We were now in Utah again, having crossed the boundary somewhere inWhirlpool Canyon. The altitude was 4940 feet, showing a descent inWhirlpool Canyon of 140 feet in a distance of 14-1/4 miles. The next dayI went with Beaman and Clem with a boat back to the foot of WhirlpoolCanyon, in order that Beaman might get some views. It was a hard pull, and we discovered that what appears sluggish going down, is often thereverse to a boat going up. We could make headway only by keeping veryclose to the bank. It was supper-time when we again reached camp. TheMajor now announced that he intended to take the _Dean_ and go on ahead, without stopping anywhere, to the mouth of the Uinta River, leaving usto follow as we could in doing the work. Cap. Was to be taken in myplace because of his previous experience in the army and in the West. That evening all was made ready. By break of day the camp was astir, breakfast was disposed of as quickly as possible, the _Dean_ was manned, the Major went to his place on the middle cabin, they cast off anddisappeared in the canyon gate. We then called this "Craggy Canyon, " butlater it was changed to Split Mountain. All of the others crossed the river to climb to the top of the cliffsfor observations and for photographs. I was left alone to watch camp. Ilonged to experiment further in the cooking line, and discovering a bagof ground coffee leaning against the foot of a tree, I said to myself, "coffee cake. " I had heard of it, I had eaten it, I would again surprisethe boys. I had no eggs, no butter, no milk (condensed milk was unknownat that time), but I had flour, water, cream of tartar, saleratus, sugar, salt, and ground coffee. I thought these quite enough, and wentat my task. The mixture I made I put in a small tin and baked in theDutch oven. I was so much occupied with this interesting experiment thatI forgot all about time and about having something substantial ready forthe return of the hungry climbers, so when they did come about noon, asfamished as coyotes and dead tired, all I could offer was _the_ cake, ever after famous on that trip, a brown, sugary solid, some six inchesin diameter, two inches thick, and betraying its flavour everywhere bythe coffee-grounds scattered lavishly through it. Andy gave it one briefsad look, and then went to work to get dinner. But they were such a rarelot of good fellows that they actually praised that cake and not onlythat, they ate it. The cake led to the discovery that the Major's partyhad left behind all their coffee, which was what I had used forflavouring, and they would have to content themselves with tea. From theheights our men had reached they could see, with a glass, the _Dean_working rapidly down the river. Next day another party went up to thesame place, and I went along. The photographic outfit had been leftthere because rain the day before had spoiled the view, and we were tobring it down when more views had been taken. After a strong, steepclimb we found ourselves on a peak or pinnacle about 3000 feet above theriver, and therefore 7940 above sea-level. The view from this point was extraordinary. Far below gleamed the rivercleaving the rocks at our feet, and visible for several miles in thecanyon churning its way down, the rapids indicated by bars of white. Onehardly knew which way to look. Crags about us projected into the canyon, and I was inspired to creep out upon a long finger of sandstone where Icould sit astride as on a horse and comfortably peer down into theabyss. It was an absolutely safe place, but Beaman and Clem feared thecrag might break off with me, and they compelled me to come back torelieve their minds. Seldom does one have such a chance to see below aswell as I could there. The long, narrow mountain stretched off to thewest, seeming not more than a half-mile wide, and split open for itswhole length by the river, which has washed its canyon longitudinallythrough it. In all directions were mountains, canyons, and crags inbewildering profusion. When Beaman had ended his labours we started down the cliffs with hisapparatus. This was the terror of the party. The camera in its strongbox was a heavy load to carry up the rocks, but it was nothing to thechemical and plate-holder box, which in turn was a featherweightcompared to the imitation hand-organ which served for a dark room. Thisdark box was the special sorrow of the expedition, as it had to bedragged up the heights from 500 to 3000 feet. With this machinery wereached camp pretty tired and glad to rest the remainder of the day, especially as Prof. Said we would enter the new canyon the next morning. This was Sunday. A few minutes after starting we passed betweenperpendicular strata rising out of the water, and gradually bendingabove over to the horizontal, then breaking into crags. I never sawanything more like an artificial wall, so evenly were the rocky bedslaid one against another. As we passed into the more broken portion aflock of sheep came into view high up on the crags on the right standingmotionless evidently puzzled by the sound of our oars. We fired from themoving boats, but without result. Recovering from their surprise thesheep bounded lightly away. Our attention was required the next momentby a rapid which we ran--it was a small one--to find it followed by manythickly set with rocks. At the first we let down by line for half amile, when we had dinner. Then we let down by line another half-mile, and ran half a mile more in easy water to the head of a very bad place, one of the worst we had seen, where we made another let-down. There wasnever any difficulty about landing when we desired, which made the workcomparatively easy. The _Cañonita_ got some hard knocks and had to berepaired at one place before we could go on. The total distance made wasonly about three miles, but we could have gone farther had we notstopped for investigations, and to mend the boat. [Illustration: Split Mountain Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871] Wet and weary we welcomed the order to camp, about five o'clock, andmade ourselves comfortable with dry clothes from our rubber bags, thewet ones being spread, as was our custom, on rocks to dry. At high watermany of these rapids would be rendered much easier. A quarter of a milebelow camp was a small cave thirty or forty feet deep, very picturesque, with the river dashing into it, and in the water in front a rock twentyfeet high, which had dropped down from somewhere above. Beaman got avery good picture here. The river was falling fast and as the water lowered rocks more and moreshowed themselves in the rapids. Low water increases the labour but itincreases the safety as well, for the velocity is less and the boats aremore easily controlled. The next day, July 10th, we did not start on down the river till oneo'clock. Then we lowered the boats past two rapids and ran six, of whichfour were very bad on account of numerous rocks. Occasionally a boatwould strike but none was injured seriously. The sun was directly in ourfaces blinding us, and a high wind was blowing which added to thedifficulties. The walls were often vertical for a thousand feet or more, and the river was wide and shallow. There was a scorching hot sun, thetemperature being near 100 in the shade. The rocks and even the sandbecame so hot that they were uncomfortable to the touch, but there wasone advantage in this dry heat--our clothes were soon dry. During thisday we landed on the wrong side to examine one rapid and had to run itfrom there. Both boats got through with only slight raps and we went ona short distance to camp at the head of a bad descent which was notrunable at this stage of water. In the morning a line-portage was easilyaccomplished and we ran down a short distance farther when we stoppedfor dinner on a sandy beach. The sand scorched my feet for I had beenwithout shoes for several days. All our shoes were giving out and minewere the first to go completely. Fortunately Beaman had an extra pair ofarmy brogans which he lent me till we should reach Uinta. I had ordered, by advice in Chicago, two pairs of fine shoes at thirteen dollars apair, but I now discovered that I ought to have bought shoes at twodollars instead for such work as this. We hoped to be able to get somenew shoes from Salt Lake when we reached the Uinta River and again wouldbe in touch, even though a very long touch, with the outside world. Oursoap was all gone too, and supplies of every kind were getting low. In the afternoon three more rapids were run and at a fourth we werecompelled to make a line-portage. Then we saw the strata begin to curveover and down and finally drop into the river just as they had come outof it at the beginning. The crevices were filled with ferns and inplaces clear water was dripping from these little green cliff gardens. As we ran along the foot of the left wall we saw a peculiar andbeautiful spring which had carved out a dainty basin where a multitudeof ferns and kindred plants were thriving, a silvery rill dropping downfrom them. We emerged from the canyon as abruptly as we had entered it, and saw a broad valley stretching before us. Running a quarter of a mileon a smooth river camp was made on the right on a level floor carpetedwith grass and surrounded by thickets of oak. We were in the beginningof what is now called Wonsits (Antelope) Valley, about eighty-sevenmiles long, the only large valley on the river above the end of BlackCanyon. Split-Mountain Canyon eight miles long has one of the greatestdeclivities on the river, coming next to Lodore, though it differs fromthe latter in that the descent is more continuous and not broken intoshort, violent stretches. There would be plain sailing now to the headof the Canyon of Desolation. CHAPTER VI A Lookout for Redskins--The River a Sluggard--A Gunshot!--Someone Comes!--The Tale of a Mysterious Light--How, How! from Douglas Boy--At the Mouth of the Uinta--A Tramp to Goblin City and a Trip down White River on a Raft--A Waggon-load of Supplies from Salt Lake by Way of Uinta Agency--The Major Goes Out to Find a Way In. Our thoughts now were mainly directed to pushing on to the mouth of theUinta River and picking up our advance party, which by this time musthave gotten in touch with the Uinta Agency. We felt gratified thatanother of the long line of canyons was a thing of the past and that fora brief time we would have easy water, so far as rapids were concerned. We were reminded that this was Indian country by discovering on a smoothface of rock wall not far from camp a lot of drawings pecked into thestone. They represented figures of natives, bison, elk, deer, mountainsheep, grizzly tracks, etc. , and as they were the first pictographs Ihad ever seen I was particularly interested. The bison picturesindicated the former presence here in this valley of that fine animal. Numbers indeed once ranged these hills and valleys, but they had alldisappeared many years before our voyage. We were on the lookout forIndians. As long as we were encompassed by the mighty walls of thecanyons there was little probability of our meeting with any of theoriginal people of this soil, but the valley now opening wide before uswas their favourite haunt. Two divisions of Utes roamed the surroundingregion. On the west it was the Uinta Utes who, we knew, were peaceable, and on the east it was the White River Utes, whose status as to peaceand war was at that period somewhat vague and uncertain. We expected notrouble with any of them, yet the possibility of running at any momenton a band gave added interest and colour to the voyage. This wasintensified by the feeling that we had suddenly been thrown out ofdoors, unprotected, as the huge, dominating precipices broke so suddenlyback on both sides, leaving us hardly a rock with which, in case ofnecessity, to emulate the example of Roderick Dhu. Probably if we hadtravelled here on horseback in the open there would not have been thissense of having left our fortification behind. July 12th the boats proceeded down a river so sluggish that the term"down" seemed a misnomer, and we actually had to row; had to work at theoars to make the boats go; these same boats which so recently hadbehaved like wild horses. This was not to our taste at all, the weatherbeing extremely hot. But there was no help for it. The boats fairly wentto sleep and we tugged away at their dull, heavy weight, putting themiles behind and recalling the express-train manner of their recentaction. On each side of us there were occasional groves of cottonwoodsand wide bottoms bounded by low hills. After about ten miles of steadypulling we discovered that we were only 2-1/2 miles from our startingplace in a straight line. Here there was a superb cottonwood grove, massive trees with huge trunks like oaks, on the left. We found theremains of a camp-fire and decided that our advance party had come thisfar from Island Park the first day. They had accomplished a phenomenalrun, but it showed what might be done with light boats and a full crew. As Steward desired to make some geological examinations at this point, Prof. Announced that we would stay till morning. Another cause forstopping was a gale which blew with great force, making rowingexceedingly hard work, and it was hard enough anyhow with no goodcurrent to help. Steward wished to go across the river, and I went with him. We trampedwith our Winchesters on our shoulders for several hours, examining rocksand fossils. On our return we found that Andy was occupied in boiling agoose which Prof. 's sure aim had bestowed on the larder, and we had thebird for supper. If it was not one of the fossils it certainly was oneof the "oldest inhabitants, " which are found in every locality, andthough a steady diet of bacon enthused us with an ambition to masticatethis noble morsel, it had to be relegated to the impossibilities. We hada good deal of entertainment out of it, and while so engaged every earcaught the sound of a faint, distant gunshot. This was proof that wewere no longer alone, and the question was, "How many Indians arethere?" We simply waited developments. Night came on and the fierce winddied away completely as the sun went down. We gave no more thought tothe shot, but all went to bed without even leaving a watch, so confidentwas Prof. That there was no enemy, and no danger of a surprise. He wasalways "level-headed" and never went off on a tangent doing wild orunwarranted things. He was a man of unusually sound judgment. In the absence of Cap. The duty of reading barometer had fallen to me, and sometimes, when waiting for the hour to arrive, I had to sit alonefor a time when the others already had turned in. It was that way onthis night, and I waited with some impatience for nine o'clock to come. For the purpose of reading the scale we used a small bull's-eye lanternbelonging to a transit instrument, and it threw out a long beam oflight. I entertained myself by flashing this beam of light in variousdirections to the distress of one member lying near not asleep, who wassomewhat nervous as to the character of the Indians responsible for theshot. "Confound it, " he growled, "you'll have the whole Ute tribe down on us!You know they are not far off!" Of course I desisted in my "signalling, " but Prof. , not yet asleep, spoke up saying he did not believe any Indians would bother us. Finishing the observations I put out the lantern, and settled in myblankets. At that instant there was the flash of a light through thetrees and then it glowed steadily for a moment and went out. My nervousneighbour saw it too. "There, " he cried, "an answer to your confoundedsignal!" Several saw it. "The evening star setting beyond the hill, "they declared, derisively, but we two maintained that it was nothingless than a light near by. Then sleep ruled the camp. In the middle ofthe night there was a sudden terrific cracking, rending, and crashing, starting all to their feet except Clem, who was not wakened by it. Whathad happened? We perceived in a second. One of the enormous limbs, weakened by the wind, had broken off and dropped to the ground in themiddle of the camp. Luckily no one was under it and no harm was done, but for a moment, in connection with the light episode and the gunshot, it gave us a shock. Every one laughed, and soon the camp was stillagain. The sun was well up before we awoke. Immediately the discussionof the strange light came up, and it formed a lively and amusing topic, not only then, but ever after for months. Breakfast became a stirringdebating scene, when plump into the midst of our hilarity, as if toemphasise the declarations of the nervous member, there came a sharpcall from beyond a line of bushes. Almost on the instant appeared anIndian mounted on a dark bay horse trotting towards us exclaiming, "How, how!" and holding out his hand in token of friendship. His long blackhair hung behind in two tails braided with red and black cotton cloth. The scalp at the part was painted vermilion, and around each eye was aring of the same bright colour. His shirt was of the kind calledhickory, and his leggins were of red woollen stuff. Altogether he was agood looking specimen of his race, and about twenty-five years old. Howmany more might be behind we could not tell. He dismounted and Clem grasped him warmly by the hand, exclaiming withhis most cordial smile, "Well, how are all the folks at home?" to whichthe visitor of course made no answer. Not one of our party understoodUte, and I had never seen a "wild" Indian at such close quarters before. The man motioned for something to eat, so Andy gave him a plate ofbreakfast, but there was a twinkle in Andy's blue eye, for the breakfastconsisted largely of the rejected goose. When the red man's visionrested on the goose he gave a grunt of disgust and made no effort toeven taste it, though he relished the other things and a cup of hotcoffee. I have noticed that all Indians are very fond of coffee. Wegleaned that he was alone with his squaw, and had a wickiup down theriver a short distance. Doubtless he had examined our camp the previousnight. The barometer hanging to a tree-branch caught his eye, and Itried by signs to explain it to him with no success except to convulsethe whole crew. At length with the exclamation "Squaw, " he rode away andcame back with his fair partner riding behind. By this time we werepacked up and we pushed off, the pair watching us with deep interest. About a mile and a half below by the river, we came on them again attheir camp, they having easily beaten us by a short cut. Here was hiswickiup made of a few cottonwood boughs, and in front of it the ashes ofa fire. Our side immediately claimed this was the light we had seen, andthe discussion of this point continued until another night put an end toit. In the bough shelter sat the blooming bride of "Douglas Boy, " as hecalled himself, Douglas being the chief of the White River Utes. She wasdressed well in a neat suit of navy-blue flannel and was lavishlyadorned with ornaments. Her dress was bound at the waist by a heavy beltof leather, four inches wide, profusely decorated with brass discs andfastened by a brass buckle. She was young and quite pretty, and theywere a handsome couple. He intimated that he would be grateful to beferried across the river, here almost half a mile wide, so his blankets, saddles, and whole paraphernalia were piled on the boats, while the twohorses were driven into the water and pelted with stones till they madeup their minds that the farther shore offered greater hospitality, andswam for it. Then the squaw and the brave were taken on separate boats. She hesitated long before finally trusting herself, and was exceedinglycoy about it. She had probably never seen a boat before. At last, overcoming her fear she stepped tremblingly on board and in a fewminutes we had them landed on the other side, where we said farewell andwent on. In the afternoon we discovered a number of natives on the right bank andlanded to see what they were. Nothing more terrible than several badlyfrightened squaws and children occupied the place, the men being away. We thought this call on the ladies would suffice, and presenting themwith a quantity of tobacco for their absent lords, we pulled away, leaving them still almost paralysed with fright and astonishment at oursudden and unexpected appearance and disappearance. The valley was nowvery wide, and the river spread to a great width also, giving conditionstotally different from any we had found above. Rowing was real labourhere, but Prof. Was eager to arrive at the mouth of the Uinta the nextday so it was row, row, with a strong, steady, monotonous stroke, hourafter hour till we had put twenty miles behind when we stopped for thenight. Next morning the same programme was continued from seven o'clockon, with a brief halt for dinner. About four a storm came up, compellingus to wait an hour, when on we pulled, with a temperature something like100°F. , in the shade, till sunset, when about forty miles from ourstarting point, we arrived at the mouth of a river on the right, whichwe thought must be the Uinta. But finally as there was no sign of ouradvance party we concluded there must be a mistake. There was so littlecurrent in the tributary we thought it might be something besides ariver, the mouth of a lake perhaps, and that the Uinta was farther on. About a mile down in the dim light there appeared to be a river mouth, but on reaching the place there was nothing of the kind. Several signalshots were fired. They fell dead on the dull stillness of the nightwhich was dropping fast upon us. We took to the oars once more andpulled down nearly another mile till the dark grew so thick it was notprudent to proceed, and Prof. Ordered a landing on the left where wemade a hasty cup of coffee to refresh the inner man, and turned in, muchpuzzled and troubled by the absence of any kind of a signal from theadvance party. Some one suggested that they had all been killed, butProf. Met this with scornful ridicule and went to sleep. When daylightcame a river was discovered less than half a mile below our camp comingin from the east. Prof. Knew this to be White River from the map, themouths of White and Uinta rivers having long been quite accuratelyestablished. The mouth of the Uinta must therefore be where we had beenthe night before, and Prof. Walked back till he came opposite to it. Wethen got the boats back by rowing and towing, and landed on the right orwest bank about a quarter of a mile above the mouth of the Uinta, wherethe old time crossing had been, and which we had passed unnoticed in theevening light. Here were the ashes of a camp-fire, and after muchsearching a tin can was found with a note in it from the Major, sayingthey had all gone out to the Agency, and that we were to wait here. A large cottonwood tree stood on the low bank where travellers beforehad camped, not in going up and down the river, but on their way acrosscountry. It was a very old tree and its bark presented many marks, names, and dates, and I regret now that I did not copy them forreference. This was one of the known crossings for a long period, infact, it was through this valley that Escalante, the first white man tocross Green River, travelled in 1776, and it is possible that he mayhave camped under this very tree. [10] We settled there to wait, harassedby multitudes of voracious mosquitoes. All day we remained, expectingthe absentees, but the sun went down and still there was no word. Aboutseven o'clock while we were eating supper, some shots and yells from thewest took us to the top of the bank, and we saw two horsemen gallopingtowards our position. We soon made them out to be Cap. And Jones. Theybrought a large mail, a portion of it the same we had tried to stop atSalt Lake, and have returned to us at the Gate of Lodore, and theyreported that the Major had gone out to Salt Lake. We built up a goodfire, and by its light everyone was quickly lost in letters from home. The next morning we got the _Dean_ out of the bushes where she had beenwell hidden, and moved across the river with the whole outfit, to aplace in front of a half-finished log cabin called Fort Robideau, afterthe trapper of that name, who years before had roamed this country. Aroad crossing here from Golden to Provo, 413 miles long, was laid out in1861 by Berthoud and Bridger for the Overland Stage Company, but theCivil War and the building of the Union Pacific had prevented itsrealisation. [11] The cabin had no windows or doors, but for summer thatwas not a defect. The mud roof was intact, and we used the cabin forheadquarters, though we preferred to sleep out on the ground. Back ofthe building a wide level plain spread away and deer and antelope rangedthere in large numbers. Any short walk would start up antelope, but wehad other matters on our mind, and made no special effort to shoot any. It would have been easy for a trained hunter to get all he wanted, oreven for one of us to do it had we dropped other things and given ourminds to the work. The following Monday, July 17th, Prof. And Beaman left for the Agency, and on Friday of the same week Jack returned accompanied by a man namedBasor, driving a large four-horse waggon loaded with supplies for us. Wewere in need of them. We had been completely out of soap for two weeksor more, and a box of that essential article was broken open the firstthing. Jack also brought from the Agency garden some lettuce, newpotatoes, and turnips. Not having tasted any vegetables for two months, these were a great treat. The same afternoon Basor went away takingletters from us with him to be sent to Salt Lake. One of the specialthings he had brought was three long, narrow pieces of flat iron made bythe Agency blacksmith from old wagon tires, for the keels of the boats, which were badly worn by scraping on shoals and rocks in our portagingand letting-down operations. On the next Monday, Cap. , Steward, and I with five days' rations on ourbacks as well as blankets enough for the warm nights, and our rifles, started on a journey up White River to a place called Goblin City by oneof the earlier explorers who had crossed the valley. As we were goingthrough some heavy willows about noon, I discovered standing stillbefore me and not a hundred feet away the finest stag I have ever seen. He stood like a Landseer picture, head erect and alert with hugebranching antlers poised in the air. He was listening to my companionswho were a little distance from me. My gun being tied to my pack foreasy travelling I could not quickly extricate it and before I couldbring it to bear he dashed through the willows and a sensible shot wasimpossible. I admired him so much that I was rather glad I could notshoot. We came across a great deal of game, antelope, mountain sheep, and deer but we never seemed to have the opportunity to stalk itproperly. When we finally came in sight of the Goblin City it was sixo'clock of the second day and we had travelled steadily. At the fartherend of a level little valley surrounded by cliffs were numerous smallbuttes and square rocks, almost in rows and about the size of smallbuildings, so that there was a striking suggestion of a town. We sleptnear the river and spent the next morning in examining the locality. When we had completed the observations I got dinner while Steward andCap. With our gun-straps and some buckskin strings made a raft fromsmall cottonwood logs we found on the bank. Upon this weaving affair weall three embarked to descend the river in order to meander the courseas well as to save our legs. Steward and Cap. Stood at either end withlong poles while I sat in the middle and took the compass sights as wepassed along. There were some sharp little rapids full of rocks, andsometimes it was all we could do to stick on, for the raft beingflexible naturally would straddle a big rock and take the form of a verysteep house roof. The banks were thick with currant bushes loaded withripe fruit and we kept a supply of branches on the raft to pick off thecurrants as we went along. Everywhere there were many fresh tracks ofbears for they are fond of this fruit, but if they saw us we failed tosee them, though some of the tracks appeared to have been made not morethan a few minutes before. As we drifted between high banks there was aviolent crashing of bushes and a beautiful fawn, evidently pursued bybear or wolf, plunged through and dropped into the stream. Cap. Took ashot at it from the wobbling raft but of course failed. The fawn landedat the bottom of a mud wall ten feet high and for a moment seemed dazed, but by some herculean effort it gained the plain and sped away tofreedom and we were not at all sorry to see it go. All the next day wekept on down White River on the raft and at seven o'clock were stillfive miles from camp in a direct course and no food left. As the streammeandered a great deal we parted from it and went to headquarters onfoot. We now expected hourly the return of Prof. And the Major, but anotherday passed without them or any message. The next day was Saturday and itfaded away also without any event. Just after supper there was a hailfrom the west bank and on going over with a boat we found there Prof. , Beaman, and an Indian. The Major had not come because Captain Dodds, commanding the party which was charged with the taking of rations for usto the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, our next supply station, had sentword that he could not find a way through the unknown region. The Majorconcluded that he would have to go and try it himself. His plan was forus to go on and he would join us again August 25th at Gunnison Crossing, at the end of the Canyon of Desolation, the next canyon of the series. Gunnison Crossing was an established point with a trail leading therefrom east and west. We were to wait for him till September 3d in thatneighbourhood, and if he failed to arrive we were to go on and getthrough as best we could on the rations remaining. Our presentintercourse with the world was now terminated by our sending the Indianwho had come with Prof. Back to the Agency with our mail. Prof. Hadbrought in some fresh beef which was a great treat but there was littleof it and after a couple of meals we were on bacon and beans again. Hadan Indian from the Agency been hired for the purpose of hunting, wemight have had plenty of venison during our stop here. Sunday our oldacquaintance Douglas Boy came to camp and was employed to make moccasinsto save our shoes. Some new shoes had been sent in to us, but forclimbing and walking the rawhide-soled moccasins were excellent andwould save our shoes for river work. The Indian had a beaded cap pouchwhich I secured from him for some vermilion and he was ready to trade, but the next day Jack caught him trying to steal our buckskin by hidingit in his blankets which rudely sundered our business relations. Jackhimself acquired the art of moccasin-making and he made each of us anexcellent pair in his spare time. Steward and I went back up White Riverto finish our work but the raft timbers were gone and we could find noothers, so we had to do what we could on foot. When we returned Idiscovered some ginger among the supplies and thinking it time forvariety in our bill of fare, and it being Cap. 's birthday, I made alarge ginger-cake which was voted prime. We ate half of it at onesitting with an accompaniment of lime-juice "lemonade. " At the Agency Prof. Found out that Douglas Boy had eloped from the WhiteRiver country with his squaw, who was betrothed to another, and when wefirst met him he was engaged in eluding pursuit. According to Ute law ifhe could avoid capture for a certain time he would be free to returnwithout molestation to his village. Beaman photographed him and a numberof the Uintas under the direction of the Major, who wished to secure allthe information possible about the natives, their language, customs, andcostumes. We now spent several days arranging our new supplies in therubber sacks, putting the iron strips on the boat-keels, and doing whatfinal repairing was necessary. The topographers plotted the map work, and all finished up their necessary notes and data. By the afternoon ofFriday, August 4th, all was in readiness for continuing the voyage. Wehad now descended 1450 feet from our starting point towards sea-leveland we knew that the next canyon would add considerably to thesefigures. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 10: Two days after crossing the San Clemente, as he calledWhite River, Escalante crossed the Rio San Buenaventura (Green River)somewhere above the mouth of White River. Here were six large "blackpoplars, " on one of which they left an inscription. After resting twodays they went south-west along the Buenaventura, ten leagues, and froma hill saw the junction of the San Clemente. He evidently went very nearthe mouth of the Uinta, and then struck westward. The Uinta he calledRio de San Cosme. ] [Footnote 11: A regiment of California volunteers marched this way fromSalt Lake on the way to Denver during the Civil War. ] CHAPTER VII On to Battle--A Concert Repertory--Good-bye to Douglas Boy--The Busy, Busy Beaver--In the Embrace of the Rocks Once More--A Relic of the Cliff-Dwellers--Low Water and Hard Work--A Canyon of Desolation--Log-cabin Cliff--Rapids and Rapids and Rapids--A Horse, Whose Horse?--Through Gray Canyon to the Rendezvous. We were up early on the morning of August 5th prepared to leave Camp32. Prof. Took a lunar observation, and at eight we entered the boatsand turned our backs on "Fort" Robideau, the only house on or near thewhole river at that time from the mouth of the Virgin, to our Camp No. 1where we had the snow-storm, a distance of about one thousand miles. Wehad vanquished many rapids and now we pushed on ready for our nextbattle with the river in the Canyon of Desolation, just before us. Theorder of going was slightly changed in the absence of the Major, forProf. , being now in sole command, went ahead with his boat, the _NelliePowell_, while ours, the _Emma Dean_, for the time being took secondplace. The river for a brief distance ran smoothly with only enoughcurrent, about two miles an hour, to help us along without hard rowing. I missed the Major while we were on the water, probably more than anyone else in the party, for as we were facing each other the whole timeand were not separated enough to interfere with conversation we hadfrequent talks. He sometimes described incidents which happened on thefirst voyage, or told me something about the men of that famous andunrivalled journey. Besides this he was very apt to sing, especiallywhere the river was not turbulent and the outlook was tranquil, somefavourite song, and these songs greatly interested me. While he had nofine voice he sang from his heart, and the songs were those he hadlearned at home singing with his brothers and sisters. One of these wasan old-fashioned hymn, _The Home of the Soul_, or rather the first twoverses of it. These verses were among his special favourites. [12] "I will sing you a song of that beautiful land, The far away home of the soul, Where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand, While the years of eternity roll, While the years of eternity roll; Where no storms ever beat on the glittering strand While the years of eternity roll. "Oh! that home of the soul in my visions and dreams, Its bright jasper walls I can see; Till I fancy but thinly the veil intervenes Between the fair city and me Till I fancy, etc. " Another was a pretty four-part song, _The Laugh of a Child_, of which hesang the air. The words ran: "I love it, I love it, the laugh of a child. Now rippling, now gentle, now merry and wild. It rings through the air with an innocent gush, Like the trill of a bird at the twilight's soft hush, It floats on the breeze like the tones of a bell, Or music that dwells in the heart of a shell. Oh, the laugh of a child is so wild and so free 'T is the merriest sound in the world to me. " Still another of which he sang the English words often was thewell-known air from _Figaro_. I give a few bars: [Illustration: _NON PIU ANDRAI_--PLAY NO MORE. Air. Figaro. Non più andrai, far-fal-lo-ne a-mo-ro-so, Not-te gior-no d'in-tor-no gi-ran-do; Del-le bel-le tur-ban-do il ri-po-so, Nar-ci-set-to, A-don-ci-no d'a-mor! Del-le bel-le tur-ban-do il ri-po-so, Nar-ci-set-to, A-don-ci-no d'a-mor! Play no more, boy, the part of a lov-er, Nor a-bout beau-ty fool-ish-ly hov-er; In the wars you'll more pleasure dis-cov-er, When your heart beats to glo-ry and fame! In the wars you'll more pleasure dis-cov-er, When your heart beats to glo-ry and fame!] At times he imitated a certain pathetic yet comical old woman he hadheard singing at some camp-meeting, "The dear blessed Bible, theFam-i-ly Bible, " etc. He told me one day that this fondness for singing, especially amid extremely unpromising or gloomy circumstances, had onmore than one occasion led the men of the first expedition to suspecthis sanity. When he was singing, I could see that frequently he wasreally not thinking about his song at all, but of something quiteforeign to it, and the singing was a mere accompaniment. Our party as awhole commanded an extensive repertory of song for an exploringexpedition and while most of the voices were somewhat below concertrequirement, there was no one to object, and one of us, Jack, did havean excellent voice. A song often heard was, _Shells of Ocean_ and alsothat one most appropriate, _What Are the Wild Waves Saying?_ Then therewas _If I Had but a Thousand a Year, Gaffer Green_, and of course, _Annie Laurie_. Never was there an American or an English expedition toanywhere that did not have that song, as well as _Way Down upon theSuwanee River_. In addition to all these and the ones previouslymentioned of which "Oh, the lone starry hours give me Love When still is the beautiful night, " was a special favourite, Jack's individual repertory contained anexhaustless number, both sad and gay. There were _Carry me Back to OldTennessee_, _The Sailor's Grave_, _Aura Lee_, with her golden hair, whobrought sunshine and swallows indiscriminately to each locality whichshe graced with the said golden hair, and _Come where my Love LiesDreaming_, _Seeing Nellie Home_, and scores or at least dozens that Ifail to recall. But while we had a great store of songs we were deficient to the lastdegree in musical instruments, the one solitary example being an humblemouth-organ which in a moment of weakness I had thrown in with myoutfit. We just escaped having a flute. Frank, who left us on the 10thof June, possessed one, and when he was preparing to go Stewardnegotiated for this instrument. He gave Cap. His revolver to trade forit, considering the flute more desirable property for the expedition. Cap. , being an old soldier, concluded to fire at a mark before lettingthe revolver pass forever from our possession. Presently there was anexplosion which demolished the pistol and all our prospects of acquiringthe musical treasure at one and the same moment. Possibly Fortune waskinder to us than we dreamed. The mouth-organ then remained the solemusic machine in all that immense area. I did not feel equal to theposition of organist but Steward boldly took up the study, and practisedso faithfully that he became a real virtuoso. As a boy in New York Jack, though not a Hibernian himself, hadassociated closely with descendants of the Shamrock Isle, and he couldspeak with a fine emerald brogue. A refrain of one of his songs in thisline was: "And if the rocks, they don't sthop us, We will cross toKilliloo, whacky-whay!" This sounded our situation exactly, and itbecame a regular accompaniment to the roaring of the rapids. Jack hadmany times followed in the wake of the Thirteen Eagles fire company, oneof the bright jewels with a green setting, of the old volunteer service. The foreman, fitting the rest of the company, was Irish too, and hisstentorian shout through the trumpet "Tirtaan Aigles, dis wai!" neverfailed to rise above the din, and when the joyful cry smote the ears ofthe gallant "Tirtaan, " the rocks nor the ruts nor the crowds noranything could stop them; through thick and through thin they went tothe front, for there was rivalry in those days and when the Aigles timeafter time got first water on, they won triumphs which we of thismercenary epoch cannot understand. The Aigles were in for glory, nothingelse. So when we heard the roar of a rapid and sniffed the mist in theair, "Tirtaan Aigles dis wai, " was our slogan. Where the river now ran smoothly, as it did for a considerable distancebelow the Robideau crossing we could drift with the slow current andenjoy the study of the surroundings, the boats requiring no attention. Passing the mouths of the Uinta and the White, both rivers entering veryquietly through a level valley, we pulled gently along watching thebanks for something new. When we had thus gone a couple of miles wediscovered our first acquaintance of this valley, Douglas Boy, encampedon the right with his runaway bride. They had a snug and secludedhiding-place protected by the river and some low cliffs. We landed topay our parting call. Both had their faces completely smeared with thebright vermilion obtained by trade from us, and they presented in oureyes a ludicrous appearance. They had recently killed a fat deer andseemed very happy. Prof. Exchanged some sugar for enough venison for ourdinner and we said farewell to them, the first as well as the last humanbeings we had met with in this valley. Clem, as usual, gave them variousmessages for the "folks at home" and assured them with gracious smiles, that they "would ever be the subject of his most distinguishedconsideration. " They smiled after us and we were soon beyond theirvision. Presently low cliffs, 100 to 150 feet began to show themselves, on one side or the other, and the wide valley vanished. The great canyonbelow was reaching out for us. There were numerous islands covered withimmense accumulations of driftwood or with growing cottonwoods wherehigh enough. Hundreds of beaver swam about. Occasionally a shot from theboats would kill or wound one, but it was next to impossible to secureany as they seemed to sink immediately to the bottom and we gave uptrying as long as they were in deep water. The stream being so tranquilreading poetry was more to our taste than hunting the beaver, and Prof. Read aloud from Emerson as we slowly advanced upon the enemy. After about nine miles of this sort of thing we stopped for dinner in apretty cottonwood grove at the foot of a cliff on the right with beaverswimming around as if they did not know what a human being was. When ourvenison had been disposed of the boats were shoved out into the riveragain and we continued our approach to the canyon. The surroundingregion became a desolate waste; a broken desert plateau elevated aboveus about two hundred feet. Some deer seen on an island caused us to landand try to get a good shot at one, but we failed to get near enough forsuccess and they quickly disappeared. The ground was too difficult forpursuit. After some seventeen miles, camp for the night was made inanother grove of rather small cottonwoods at 5. 30. We were on a largeisland with the surrounding waters thick with beaver busy every momentthough their great work is done at night. Many trees felled, some ofthem of a considerable diameter, attested the skill and energy of theseanimals as woodchoppers. Cap. Tried to get one so that we could eat it, but though he killed several he failed to reach them before they sank, and gave it up. As we looked around we saw that almost imperceptibly we had entered thenew canyon and at this camp (33) we were fairly within the embrace ofits rugged cliffs which, devoid of all vegetation, rose up four hundredfeet, sombre in colour, but picturesque from a tendency to columnarweathering that imparted to them a Gothic character suggestive ofcathedrals, castles, and turrets. The next day was Sunday and as Beamanfelt sick and we were not in a hurry, no advance was made but insteadProf. Accompanied by Steward, Cap. , and Jones climbed out for notes andobservations. They easily reached the top by means of a small gulch. They got back early, reporting an increasing desolation in the countryon both sides as far as they could see. They also saw two graves ofgreat age, covered by stones. In the afternoon Prof. Entertained us byreading aloud from Scott and so the day passed and night fell. Then thebeavers became more active and worked and splashed around campincessantly. They kept it up all through the dark hours as is theirhabit, but only Steward was disturbed by it. This would have been anexcellent opportunity to learn something about their ways, but for mypart I did not then even think of it. By 7. 30 in the morning of August 7th we were again on our way towardsthe depths ahead, between walls of rapidly increasing altitude showingthat we were cutting into some great rock structure. Here and there wecame to shoals that compelled us to get overboard and wade alongsidelifting the boats at times. As these shoals had the peculiarity ofbeginning gradually and ending very abruptly we got some unexpectedplunge baths during this kind of progression. But the air was hot, thethermometer being about 90° F. , and being soaked through was notuncomfortable. At one place Prof. Succeeded in shooting a beaver whichwas near the bank and it was secured before it could get to its hole, being badly wounded. Steward caught it around the middle from behind andthrew it into the boat--he had jumped into the water--and there it wasfinished with an oar. It measured three feet from tip to tip. We hadheard a good deal about beaver as food and would now have a chance totry it. About eleven o'clock, we stopped for examinations and for dinneron the right but, of course, could not yet cook the beaver. Prof. , Steward, and Cap. Climbed to the top of a butte 1050 feet above theriver upon which they found a small monument left there by the Major onthe former trip. Though this butte was so high the average of the wallswas only about five hundred feet. We made seventeen miles this day. That night our camp (No. 35) was again on an island. There Cap. Skinnedand dressed the beaver and turned over the edible portions to Andy whocooked some steak for breakfast the next morning. It tasted somethinglike beef, but we were not enthusiastic for I fear this beaver belongedto the same geological epoch as the goose we had cooked at the upper endof the valley. Fortified by the beaver steak we pushed off and ran abouta mile on a smooth river when a stop was made for pictures andgeologising. This consumed the whole morning, a fact Andy took advantageof to make some beaver soup for dinner. This concoction was voted not asuccess and we turned to bacon and beans as preferable thereafter. Opposite this dinner place was a rough lateral canyon full of turretsand minarets which had the remarkable property of twice distinctlyrepeating a shout as loud as the original, and multiplying a rifle shotto peals of thunder. There had been people here before any white men, for Steward found an artificial wall across an indentation of the cliff, the first work of the ancient builders we had encountered. It wasmysterious at the time, the South-western ruins having then not beendiscovered with one or two exceptions. We ascribed this wall, however, to the ancestors of the Moki (Hopi). In the afternoon as we pulled along we came to a small rapid and thewalls by this time being closer together and growing constantly higher, we knew that we were now fairly within the Canyon of Desolation and forabout one hundred miles would have a rough river. Not more than twomiles below our dinner camp we reached a locality where the streamdoubled back on itself forming a vast and beautiful amphitheatre. Wecould not pass this by without taking a picture of it and Beaman wassoon at work with his apparatus while I got out my pencils. Thephotograph did not turn out well, and Prof. Determined to remain tillthe next day. Our camp was on the left in a thick grove of cottonwoods, and box-elders or ash-leaved maples, at the end of the point. As the sunsank away bats flew about and an insect orchestra began a demoniacalconcert that shrilled through the night and made us feel likeslaughtering the myriads if we could. The noises ceased with the day, ormost of them, though some seemed to intensify with the light. We helpedBeaman get his dark box and other paraphernalia up to the summit of theridge back of camp, which was easy so far as climbing was concerned, therocks rising by a series of shelves or steps. I made several pencilsketches there, which I have never seen since the close of theexpedition. The crest of the promontory was about forty yards wide atits maximum and three yards at the minimum, with a length ofthree-fourths of a mile. From the middle ridge one could look down intothe river on both sides, and it seemed as if a stone could almost bethrown into each from one standpoint. The opposite amphitheatre wasperhaps one thousand feet high, beautifully carved by the rains andwinds. It was named Sumner's Amphitheatre after Jack Sumner of the firstexpedition. Several of our men climbed in different directions, but alldid not succeed in getting out. The day turned out very cloudy withsprinkles of rain and Prof. Decided to wait still longer to see ifBeaman could get a good photograph, and we had another night of insectopera. The next day by noon the photographer had caught the scene and wecontinued our descending way. The river was perfectly smooth, except asmall rapid late in the day, with walls on both sides steadilyincreasing their altitude. Desolation in its beginning is exactly thereverse of Lodore and Split Mountain. In the latter the entrance couldhardly be more sudden, whereas the Canyon of Desolation pushes its rockwalls around one so diplomatically that it is some little time beforethe traveller realises that he is caught. The walls were ragged, barren, and dreary, yet majestic. We missed the numerous trees which in theupper canyons had been so ornamental wherever they could find a footingon the rocks. Here there were only low shrubs as a rule and these mainlyalong the immediate edge of the water, though high up on north slopespines began to appear. Altitude, latitude, and aridity combine to modifyvegetation so that in an arid region one notices extraordinary changesoften in a single locality. The walls still had the tendency to breakinto turrets and towers, and opposite our next camp a pinnacle stooddetached from the wall on a shelf high above the water suggesting abeacon and it was named Lighthouse Rock. Prof. With Steward and Cap. Inthe morning, August 11th, climbed out to study the contiguous regionwhich was found to be not a mountain range but a bleak and desolateplateau through which we were cutting along Green River toward a stillhigher portion. This was afterwards named the Tavaputs Plateau, East andWest divisions, the river being the line of separation. The walls now began to take on a vertical character rising above thewater 1200 to 1800 feet, and at that height they were about a quarter ofa mile apart. From their edges they broke back irregularly to aseparation as nearly as could be determined of from three to five miles, the extreme summit being 2500 feet above the river. [Illustration: Steward. Canyon of Desolation. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] While waiting for Prof. To come down from the cliffs, Beaman made somephotographs and then two boats dropped down a quarter of a mile where hemade some more and Andy got dinner. I remained with the _Nell_ and abouteleven o'clock the climbers came. We went down on the boat to the nooncamp, and as soon as we had refreshed the inner man we proceededthinking it about time for rapids to appear. We had not gone far beforewe distinguished a familiar roar just preceding the turn of a bend whichdisclosed three lying within half a mile. They were not bad but theriver was wide and shallow, making the descent more difficult than itwould ordinarily have been. The river was now approaching its loweststage, and we saw an uncomfortable looking lot of rocks. High watermakes easy going but increases the risk of disaster; low water makeshard work, batters the boats, and delays progress, but as a rule it isless risky. All the boats cleared the first rapid without anydifficulty, but in the second the _Nell_ struck a sunken rock, thoughlightly, while our boat landed squarely on the top of a large boulderpartially submerged, where we hung fast with the water boiling furiouslyaround and almost coming over the sides. I tried to get out over theport bow but the current drew me under the boat and I had to get back. Jack concluded we were only fast by the extreme end of the keel andJones coming forward Jack slid cautiously out over the stern and feltaround with his feet till he touched the rock and put his weight on it. Thus relieved, the boat lifted slightly and shot away like an arrow butnot before Jack leaped on again. As soon as we could we made land andwatched the _Cañonita_ which fared still worse. She struck so hard thattwo of the after ribs and some planks were stove in. They thenextricated her and pulling her up on the rocky shore we went to work torepair with cleats made from a broken oar. This delayed us an hour and ahalf. Then saws and hammers were stowed away and the third rapid was runwithout a mishap. It was only the low stage of water that caused thetrouble. A little farther on a fourth rapid was vanquished and we wentinto camp on the left bank in a cottonwood grove at the head of another. "If the rocks, they don't sthop us, " sang Jack, "We will cross toKilliloo, whacky-whay!" And there were plenty of rocks in the midst offoaming waters, but one great advantage of low water is the decreasedvelocity, and velocity on a river like this with so heavy and constant afall is one of the chief factors to reckon with in navigation. The high cliffs, two thousand feet, red and towering in the bright sun, became sombre and mysterious as the night shadows crept over them, thesummits remaining bright from the last western rays when the river levelwas dim and uncertain. There was plenty of driftwood, and our fires werealways cheery and comfortable. The nights were now quite cold, or atleast chilly, while the days were hot as soon as the sun came over theedge of the cliffs. Through some of the narrow promontories at thisparticular camp there were peculiar perforations suggesting immensewindows looking into some fairer land. I would have been glad to examinesome of these closely, but as it was not necessary they were passed by. It would also have been difficult to reach them as they were very highup. The rapid at our camp was a starter the next day on a line of themfollowing one after the other till we had run without accident ninebefore halting for dinner; and nine in 6-3/4 miles was not a bad record. We landed for noon on the same spot where the first party had stoppedand our last night's camp was also coincident with theirs, according totheir map which we had for consultation. Prof. Decided to remain herefor the rest of the day and also the next one which was Sunday. Up in ahigh gulch some pine trees were visible, and Jack and I climbed up tothem and collected several pounds of gum for repairing the boats. Sundaymorning Prof. , Jones, and Steward struck for the summit up the cliffs toget observations. An hour and a half of steady hard work put them 2576feet above the river, but they were still three hundred feet below thegeneral level of the great plateau which we were bisecting. Prof. Thought he would like to make better time down the river, which we couldeasily have done up to this point, but if we arrived at the end of thecanyon too soon we would have to wait there and it was better todistribute the wait as we went along. It was now August 14th and we werenot due below till September 3d. On Monday morning we pushed and pulled and lifted the boats through ashallow rapid half a mile long. It was hard work. Then came one which weran, but the following drop was deemed too risky to trust our boats in, and they were lowered by lines. Then in a short distance this sameprocess was repeated with hard work in a very bad place, and when we hadfinished that we were tired, hungry, wet, and cold, so under acottonwood tree on the right we stopped for needed refreshment, andwhile it was preparing most of us hung our clothes on the branches of afallen tree to dry. The rapid foaming and fuming presented so vigorousan appearance and made so much noise we thought it ought to be named, and it was called Fretwater Falls. At three o'clock we took up our oarsagain and were whirled along at runaway speed through a continuousdescent for half a mile. After another half-mile a small rapid appeared, which we dashed through without a second thought, and then came ourfinal effort of the day, a line-portage over a particularly bad spot. Itwas a difficult job, requiring great exertion in lifting and pushing andfending off, so when Prof. Gave the word to camp on the left, we wereall glad enough to do so. We had made only 5-1/4 miles and seven rapids. The let-downs had been hard ones, with a couple of men on board to fendoff and two or three on the hawser holding back. The next morning, August 15th, we made another let-down around a badpiece of river, and ran two or three small rapids before dinner. At thelet-down the water dropped at least ten feet in two hundred yards, andProf. Estimated thirty in half a mile. The river was also narrow, notmore than sixty or seventy feet in one place. Many rocks studded therapids, and great caution had to be exercised both in let-downs and inruns, lest the boats should be seriously injured. With two or three morefeet of water we could have run some that were now impossible. Fortunately there was always plenty of room on both banks, the cliffsbeing well back from the water. A series of small rapids gave us nospecial trouble, and having put them behind, we ran in at the head of arough-looking one, had dinner, and then made a let-down. Starting on, wesoon came to a very sharp rapid, which we ran, and found it was only anintroduction to one following that demanded careful treatment. Anotherlet-down was the necessary course, and when it was accomplished westopped for the night where we were on the sand, every man tired, wet, and hungry. We had made only four miles. A significant note of warningwas found here in the shape of fragments of the unfortunate _No-Name_mixed up with the driftwood, fully two hundred miles below the fallswhere the wreck occurred. The precipices surrounding us had now reached truly magnificentproportions, one section near our camp springing almost vertically to aheight of 2800 or 3000 feet. On the dizzy summit we could discern whathad the appearance of an old-fashioned log-cabin, and from this wecalled it "Log-cabin Cliff. " The cabin was in reality a butte of shale, as we could see by means of our glasses, and of course of far greatersize than a real cabin, but from below the illusion was complete. Atthis camp, No. 40, we remained the next day, Prof. Wishing to make someinvestigations. He and Jones crossed to the other side and went down onfoot two or three miles; then returning he went up some distance, whilethe rest of us mended our clothes, worked up notes, and did a score oflittle duties that had been neglected in the river work. Jack and Iclimbed up the cliffs and got more pine gum, with which we caulked upthe seams in our boat. Cap. Kindly turned barber and redeemed me fromthe danger of being classed as orang-outang. The air was too hazy forphotographing or for getting observations from the summit, and Prof. Concluded to stay till next day at this place and then go to the top ofthe world; in other words, to the summit. Very early in the morning, August 17th, Steward and Cap. Started with Prof. For the climb. Keepingup the main canyon for a mile they came to a side gorge where Prof. Hadbeen the day before, which they followed for half a mile and then boldlymounted the cliffs, reaching an altitude of 3100 feet above the river. While they were gone, Jack and I climbed after more pine gum, andsucceeded in getting five or six pounds for future use. As I wasdescending along a terrace, Jack being some distance behind and above, afine, large mountain sheep, sleek and clean, with beautiful stronghorns, sprang along four or five hundred feet from me, and stopped infull view listening to Jack's footsteps. I had no gun, and could onlyadmire him till he bounded lightly away. About one o'clock the climbing party came back. Steward had shot amountain sheep with a revolver, only to find that a deep canyonintervened between him and his prize and there was no way of getting it. About half past two we shoved out into the river again, running a smallrapid immediately. The water was so shallow that our keel struck anumber of times but no damage was done. We had hardly cleared this whenwe arrived at a drop of about six feet in a few yards with the wholeriver filled with bad rocks. At this place, according to the map made bythe first party, their _Emma Dean_ was capsised. We made a let-down anda quarter of a mile farther on repeated the operation should be. Following this were some swift shoals which brought us to another uglydescent where the _Nell_ stove a hole in her side and came nearupsetting. Prof. Was knocked half out of the boat but got in again. Theother boats we lowered by lines and they passed through uninjured. Nearthis point a fine clear little stream about a rod wide entered from thewest. After running two more rapids Prof. Decided to camp which we didon the right, Camp 41. Our run footed up 3-3/4 miles. Our camp was insome cottonwoods and we had to cross a wide rocky bar to get to it butit was preferable to camping on the sand. In this canyon there wasgenerally a valley about one-quarter mile wide on one side or the other, and with the abundant supply of driftwood for fires and a whole riverfor drink we fared well. The great canyon now appeared deeper than atany point above, about three thousand feet we estimated, the walls beingextremely precipitous. One cliff not far from camp appeared to benearly perpendicular. Steward got up very early the next morning in order to mend his shoes, and he succeeded so well as cobbler, we declared he had missed hiscalling, but we did not start till ten o'clock, waiting for Beaman totake views. The first thing we then did was to run a very shallow rapid, followed by another, long, difficult, narrow, and rocky. Then there wasa short, easy one, with the next below compelling a very hard let-down. There was nothing but rocks, large rocks, so close together that it wasall we could do to manoeuvre the boats between them. There was nochannel anywhere. For the greater part of the way we had to pull themempty over the rocks on driftwood skids which taxed our musclesconsiderably and of course saturated our clothing for half the time wewere in the water, as was always the case at let-downs. This over we hadour noon ration of bread, bacon, and coffee and took a fresh start byrunning a nice, clear rapid and then another a half-mile below, and wethought we were getting on well when we saw ahead a fall of some tenfeet in fourteen rods, turbulent and fierce. The only prudent thing forthis rapid was a let-down and we went at it at once. It was the usualpulling, hauling, fending, and pushing, but we got through with it aftera while and naming it at the suggestion of some one, Melvin Falls, wewent on to the eighth and last rapid for the day. This was half a milelong and very rocky, but it was thought we could run it and all wentthrough safely except the _Nell_ which caught her keel on a rock andhung for a moment, then cleared and finished with no damage. We madeCamp 42 on a sand-hill. These hills were a feature of the wide banks, being blown up by the winds, sometimes to a height of fifteen or twentyfeet. Our run for the day was less than five miles, yet as we had passedeight rapids one way and another, we were all pretty tired and of coursewet and hungry. A good big camp-fire was quickly started, our drygarments from the rubber bags donned in place of the flapping wet ones, and we were entirely comfortable, with the bread baking in the Dutchoven, the coffee or tea steaming away, and the inspiring fragrance offrying bacon wafted on the evening air. When we stopped long enough Andywould give us boiled beans or stewed dried apples as a treat. If wedesired to enliven the conversation all that was necessary was to startthe subject of the "light" back at the camp where we first met DouglasBoy. Every one would soon be involved except Prof. Who only laughed andinserted from time to time a well-chosen remark to keep up the interest. Jack would always give us a half-dozen songs and to this Steward wouldadd a solo on the mouth-organ. The evenings were growing longer, and wesat closer to the fire. Sometimes Cap. And Clem would play a game ofeuchre, but no one else seemed to care anything about cards. Our beds, when possible, were made by first putting down willows or cedar twigs inregular order, on which the blankets would be spread making a luxuriousbed on which sleep instantly overtook us, with the sound of fallingwater generally the last thing and the first in our ears. At 7. 30 the next morning, August 19th, we were speeding on our way andran the rapid which had sent its lullaby to our camp. Another came rightafter it, shallow and bad, and then one more where the channel was besetwith innumerable boulders hidden under the surface. Happily the boatswere not seriously damaged, they needed no repairs, and we kept on tothe next barrier which proved to be not runable with any prospect ofgetting through whole so we made a portage. Then there was a rapid weran easily, but as if to revenge itself for making one gentle for us, the river obliged us to work a laborious passage at the next two. We hadgood hard work, lowering by lines, wading alongside where necessary toease the boats, or clinging to their sides where the water was deep, while the men on shore at the hawser's end lowered away to a shallowplace. We were glad to halt at 11. 30 for dinner, and a short rest. There was a heavy rapid beside us as we ate, and Steward named itChandler Falls. It had a descent of about twelve feet in twenty rods. Onthe opposite side of the river a clear little creek came in, and thiswas named Chandler Creek, Chandler being the maiden name of Steward'swife. Beaman and Clem selected a position with their photographic outfitand made some photographs of us as we were working the boats through. Amile below we halted on the right for Beaman to get more views. None ofhis photographs of the rapids came out well as the plates were too slow. Up a gulch on the right we could see a remarkable topographic feature, nothing less than a gigantic aperture, or natural arch, in the cliff. Ithad a span of at least 300 feet with a height of about half as much. Itwas 1500 or 1800 feet above the river. Hundreds of cedar trees grewaround the arch on the ledges of the huge wall through which it was cutby the action of the elements. The cliffs everywhere were now becoming more broken, and there was anentrance somewhere from the back country, or it may have been up thecanyon, for we discovered remains of tipis and camps with metates orgrinding stones, the first evidences of human beings we had seen sincethe "Moki" wall. This and the breaking of the cliffs caused us tobelieve that we were nearing the end of the canyon. Prof. With Jones andSteward went down-stream on foot for a distance to see what was comingnext and found a stretch of very bad water. On the return a rattlesnakestruck at Steward but luckily failed to hit him. Steward killed it. Weconcluded to stop for the night where we were with the day'srecord--four rapids run, three let-downs, and 4-5/8 miles in distance. This camp was not satisfactory and we got out of it early the nextmorning. While Beaman was making some views across the river we loweredthe other two boats through one rapid and then ran them through a secondin three-quarters of a mile to a better camping place, from which wewent back and helped the third boat, the _Cañonita_, do the same. Prof. Wanted to climb out, but the morning being half gone he planned to startafter dinner and meanwhile he read Emerson aloud to us till Andy shoutedhis "Go fur it boys!" Accompanied by Steward and Clem, in the afternoonhe climbed up 1200 or 1500 feet to a point where he could see down theriver two or three miles. They counted seven rapids, and confirmed thebelief that the walls were breaking. The surrounding country was made upof huge ridges that ran in toward the river from five miles back. Our Camp 44 was in a little valley about a quarter of a mile wide, thebottom covered with cedars and greasewood. The scenery was still on amagnificent scale but barren and desolate. The next morning, August21st, we were under way at 7. 30 and plunged almost immediately into therapids which had been sighted from the cliffs above. In a little overfour miles we let down six times. A seventh rapid we ran and thenstopped for noon on the left, every man, as usual, soaking wet. A littlerain fell but not enough to consider. After dinner four more rapids wereput behind; we ran all but one at which we made a let-down. Our recordfor this day was eleven rapids in a trifle less than seven miles, and wewere camped at the head of another rapid which was to form oureye-opener in the morning. The walls receded from the riverthree-fourths of a mile and now, though still very high, had more theappearance of isolated cliffs. We had not a single unpleasant incident till Beaman on this day ran onerapid contrary to Prof. 's orders. He was sharply reprimanded, and forthe time being his tendency to insubordination and recklessness waschecked. He probably did not mean to be either, but his confidence inhis ability to steer through anything led him astray. In the evening bythe camp-fire light Prof. Read aloud from _Miles Standish_. Although aheavy wind blew sand all over us, no one seemed to complain. The next morning, August 22d, the first thing we did was to run therapid beside our camp, a beautiful chute, swift, long, and free fromrocks. Immediately below this was one half a mile long in the form of acrescent, the river making a sharp bend with a bad current, but we ranit. This was, in fact, a part of the other rapid, or it might be soclassed, as was frequently the case where the descent was nearlycontinuous from one rapid to another. The river was very narrow at thisplace, not more than seventy-five feet wide. We had not gone far beforewe reached a rapid where it was prudent to lower the boats, and not morethan a few hundred yards below this there was another of a similarcharacter but necessitating harder work. Then we were brought face toface with one more that could not be run with safety on the presentstage of water, though we ran a part of it and made a let-down past theremainder. When this was finally accomplished with everything in goodorder, we found ourselves in front of still another that refused togrant us clear passage, and we worked the boats down with lines as inthe previous rapids without removing the cargoes. The method was theusual one for the let-downs, three or four men on the line and a coupleon board the boat to manoeuvre and protect her. Having by this timeadvanced three and one-eighth miles from last night's camp we stoppedfor dinner. On taking up the oars again the first rapid was a fine, clear descent with extremely large waves, through which all three boatsdashed with exhilarating speed, leaping part of their length out of thewater as their velocity carried them zipping over the crests. Our boathappened to strike near the finish on a submerged rock to the right ofthe main channel and near shore and there she hung for some moments. Thefirst boat had landed below and some of the men quickly came up to whereI could throw them our line, and this pulled us off without any damageworth mentioning. A little below this we ran another successfully andhad not gone far before we were astonished at the sight of a horsegrazing unconcernedly on some low bluffs on the right. Prof. Haddiscovered this horse with his field glass while we stopped above toexamine one of the rapids. He thought it might indicate the presence ofthe Major, or of Indians, but he did not mention the matter to any ofus. When we were at a good point, and just as all hands had discoveredthe animal, he ordered a sharp landing on the same side. We ran inquickly. Prof. Went up the bank and gave several shouts while we heldourselves ready for action. There was no response. He then went to thehorse and found it very lame which, coupled with the absence of anyindication of visitors within recent months, caused us to conclude thatthe horse had been abandoned by Indians who had been encamped here agood while before. We left the place and running another rapid, a littleone, we came to a fine spot for a camp on the right at the beginning ofa heavy rapid, and there we stayed for the night. There was now a marked change in the geology, and fossiliferous beds, which for a long time had been absent, appeared. The canyon walls alsobroke away considerably. The next morning it was decided that we shouldremain at this camp till after dinner for observation work. I went outwith Steward to help him gather fossils, and Beaman took some views, while the others occupied themselves with various duties. The afternoonbegan by letting the boats by line past the rapid at camp which Beamancalled Sharp Mountain Falls, from a pointed peak overhead. There was adrop of about fifteen feet in thirty rods. Beaman wanted to photographus in the midst of our work, and got ready for it, but a rain-storm cameon and we had to wait till it cleared for him to get the picture. Wethen went ahead dashing through a pretty rapid with a swift current, andnext had a long stretch of rapid, though not difficult river, making inall 2-3/4 miles, and camping at five o'clock on the left. The onlytrouble we had was that in choosing one of four channels our boat gotwhere she was inevitably drawn into the top of a sunken dead tree lodgedin the rocks and my starboard row lock was broken off. On shore Stewardkilled another rattlesnake, of which there seemed to be a good manyalong the river. We were now actually out of the Canyon of Desolation and in thebeginning of what the Major at first called Coal Canyon, then Lignite, and finally Gray, the name it bears to-day, because of the colour of thewalls. The division between the two canyons was the break down where wehad seen the horse. Casting up we found that the Canyon of Desolation isninety-seven miles long. Early the next morning, August 24th, we pulledaway from Camp 47 soon running two small rapids of no consequence, andin three miles came to a descent of some ten feet in a very short space, where we made a let-down. Three fair rapids were next run easily when wehalted to examine a hard-looking place where we let down again. Anencounter with three more, two of them each a quarter of a mile long, took us till noon, though we ran them and we came to a stop for dinner. Now the walls had narrowed, the canyon being about half a mile wide atthe top--sometimes not more than a quarter. The colour was buff, andthere were seams of coal and lignite in places. On one or the other sidethe cliffs were nearly vertical for about three hundred feet thenbreaking back to jagged heights reaching about two thousand feet. Afterdinner having run two more rapids without trouble we arrived at a verydifficult locality where the first cliffs, six hundred feet high, camedown vertically on both sides quite close to the water. We saw how wecould navigate it, but at flood time it would be a most seriousproposition, as there would be no footing on either side, unless, perhaps on the huge masses of fallen rock. At the present stage we wereable to let the boats down by lines. Then we had two easy rapids, followed by another not more difficult but less safe. A little fartheron we ran two more which completed the record for the day, and we wereglad to camp with a total run of 12-3/8 miles, and many rapids withthree let-downs. A feature of the cliffs this day was numerous alcovesand grottoes worn into the sandstone some of them like great cavernswith extremely narrow canyons leading into them. In the morning Prof. With Jones, Cap. , and Steward climbed out. Thecountry was elevated above the river about two thousand feet, a wildlabyrinth of ragged gulches, gullies, and sharp peaks devoid ofvegetation except a few piñons on some slopes, the whole presenting apicture of complete desolation. At a quarter past twelve we were againgliding down on a stiff current. We ran seven easy rapids and let-downby lines twice, before arriving about three o'clock at the mouth of astream-bed sixty feet wide, which Prof. Said was Little White, or PriceRiver. The mouth was so devoid of water that we camped on the smoothsand, it being the only ground free from brush. A sudden rise orcloud-burst would have made it an active place for us but we decided totake the risk for one night. Prof. And Jones tried to get out byfollowing up this river bed but they were not successful. Game wasabundant and they thought there might be an Indian trail but they sawnone. In the evening Steward gave us a mouth-organ recital and Jack sanga lot of his songs in fine style. The air was soft and tranquil, andknowing we had now conquered the Canyon of Desolation without a seriousmishap we all felt well satisfied. In the morning, August 25th, breakfast was disposed of early, the boatswere put in trim and away we went again on a good current running manyrapids and making one let-down in a distance of eight miles. I countedfourteen rapids, Steward ten or eleven, Prof. Only eight, showing thatit is not always easy to separate the rapids where they come so closetogether. In one the river was no more than thirty feet wide with bigwaves that made the boats jump and ship water. We reached a bend andsaw the end of the canyon only a mile or two away, but we had to makethe let-down mentioned before we got there. Our camp, Number 50, wasmade about noon, just inside the mouth of the canyon on the left, opposite a high, beautiful pinnacle we called Cathedral Butte afterwardschanging the name to Gunnison. Here we would wait till the timeappointed for the Major to join us according to the plan. Gray Canyonwas now also behind us with its thirty-six miles and numerous rapids. Adding to it the ninety-seven miles of Desolation made the total canyonfrom Wonsits Valley 133 miles with a descent of about 550 feetdistributed through a hundred rapids, some small, some heavy. The entirefall from our starting point was now some two thousand feet. Prof. AndJones went down the valley two miles with the hope of seeing signs ofthe Major but not a human being was to be found anywhere. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 12: Many, many years after the canyon voyage as Major Powellwith his sister, Mrs. Thompson, and Professor Thompson were approachingFort Wingate in New Mexico, the sun was setting, and sky and rockscombined to produce a glorious picture. Suddenly he asked his companionsto halt and sitting on their horses looking into the wonderful sky hesang with them the above two stanzas. ] CHAPTER VIII Return of the Major--Some Mormon Friends--No Rations at the Elusive Dirty Devil--Captain Gunnison's Crossing--An All-night Vigil for Cap. And Clem--The Land of a Thousand Cascades--A Bend Like a Bow-knot and a Canyon Labyrinthian--Cleaving an Unknown World--Signs of the Oldest Inhabitant--Through the Canyon of Stillwater to the Jaws of the Colorado. There was little energy in our camp the day after our arrival at the endof the long struggle with Desolation and Gray canyons, and, also, itbeing Sunday, we lounged around in a state of relaxation, joyful that wedid not have to roll up our blankets and stow them and everything elsein the rubber bags and pack the cabins to go on. The boats had beenunloaded and hauled on the beach, which was smooth sand, to dry outpreparatory to our caulking and repairing them with the pine gumcollected in Desolation. During the morning Prof. Sent Jack and me downthe river a short distance to put up a signal, a small American flag, onthe lower end of an island, where it could easily be seen by any onelooking for us. All hands kept an ear open for signal shots, which wehoped to hear soon, and have the Major once more in our company. Afterdinner Prof. And Steward took another walk down the open valley aboutfive miles to reconnoitre, but though they came upon remains of a greatmany Indian camps, all were old, and the valley appeared as silent anddeserted as it was desolate and barren. Along the river there were a fewgroves of cottonwood, the only vegetation of any consequence to be seen. [Illustration: A. Map by the U. S. War Department--1868. Supplied by the courtesy of General Mackenzie, U. S. A. , showing theknowledge of the Colorado River basin just before Major Powell beganoperations. The topography above the junction of the Green and Grand islargely pictorial and approximate. The white space from the San Rafaelto the mouth of the Virgin is the unknown country referred to in thisvolume, which was investigated in 1871-72-73. Preliminary Maps B, C, andD, at pages 244, 246, and 207, respectively, partly give the results ofthe work which filled in this area. ] Through this valley passed the famous trail from Santa Fé to LosAngeles, laid out in 1830 by that splendid pioneer, William Wolfskill. The reason he came so far north was because there was no place to crossthe canyons below that was known. [13] This path was occasionallytravelled for years, and became celebrated as the "Old Spanish Trail. "Here it was that Captain Gunnison of our army in his notableexplorations crossed in 1853 on his westward journey, which a few dayslater proved fatal to him, as he was killed by the Gosi-Utes. Beforeleaving he established the latitude and longitude of this crossing, which ever after bore his name. [14] Together with the mouth of theUinta, the mouth of Henry's Fork, and the mouth of Diamond Creek, thismade four points astronomically fixed before the Major came between theUnion Pacific crossing and the end of the Grand Canyon. Diamond Creekmouth was determined accurately by Ives in 1858. The trappers and furhunters between 1824 and 1840, men like Jim Bridger and Kit Carson, hadroamed more or less over the region we had come through, andoccasionally they had tried to see the river in the canyons. The aridityof the country generally held them back. Ashley, as already noted, hadmade the passage of Red Canyon, and the trapper Meek with severalcompanions had gone through Lodore and Whirlpool one winter on the ice. Frémont, Simpson, Berthoud, Selden, and some other scientific explorershad passed here and there reconnoitring, and Macomb in 1859 had made areconnaissance to the south and south-west of Gunnison Crossing, so thata general idea of the character of the region had been obtained and akind of approximate topography had been tentatively thrown in, yet itwas mainly an unknown wilderness so far as record went, particularlycontiguous to the river. But south from the San Rafael to the Paria andwest to the High Plateaus forming the southward continuation of theWasatch Range, an area of at least 10, 000 square miles, there was stilla completely unknown country. Indeed, even from the Paria on down to theGrand Wash the region on the right was hardly better understood, thoughthere were several Mormon settlements on the headwaters of the Virgin, and recently the settlement of Kanab had been made farther east. On thesouth of the Grand Canyon Ives had reconnoitred to some extent, reachingthe river at the mouth of Diamond Creek, but at no other point abovethat did he come to the river nor get anywhere near its canyon above thetributary Habasu (Cataract). In the entire stretch from Gunnison Crossing to the end of the GrandCanyon, a distance of 587-1/2 miles, but two points were known wherethe river could be crossed, the Crossing of the Fathers (El Vado de losPadres), about latitude 37, and the mouth of the Paria, only thirty-fivemiles lower down. This latter place had been discovered by JacobHamblin, or "Old Jacob, " as he was familiarly called, and he was thefirst white man to cross there, which he did in October, 1869. He was awell-known Mormon scout and pioneer of those days. He forded at El Vadohis first time in 1858, possibly the first white man after Escalante, though the ford was known to at least Richard Campbell, the trapper, in1840 or earlier. In 1862 Jacob circumtoured the Grand and Marblecanyons, going from St. George by way of the Grand Wash to the MokiTowns and returning by way of El Vado. Thus the region below us to theleft or east had been reconnoitred in a general way by Macomb, whilethat to the right or west had not had even bird's-eye exploration. Untilthe Major's unrivalled first descent in 1869 the river was equallyunknown. Even above Gunnison Crossing, despite the spasmodic efforts atexploration referred to, the river had remained a geographical enigma, and to the Major belongs the sole credit for solving this great problemthroughout its length from the Union Pacific crossing in Wyoming to themouth of the Virgin River--the last problem of this kind within theUnited States. Hampered as the first party was by loss of provisions andinstruments, they nevertheless made a plat of the immediate course ofthe stream, portions of which were lost with the men who were killed bythe Shewits on leaving the party near the end of the Grand Canyon. Sofar we had not been bothered in the least by lack of provisions, instruments, time, health, or strength, and we had been able to make anaccurate meander of the river, note the topography and geology as wewent along, climb out frequently to examine the surrounding country, andin every way carry forward the scientific work as planned. It was now aquestion whether or not we would get our supplies at the next appointedstation, the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, or whether we would beobliged to weigh out what we had, and by limiting ourselves to strictrations put the work through anyhow. By September 5th we would probablyhave information on this point, that being the limit set for ourwaiting. Should the Major not arrive by that time, it would mean thatwe were to go on as best we could with the supplies on hand. Monday was devoted to overhauling the boats, while Prof. Tookobservations. During a rest he also read aloud to us from Tennyson, "A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land; far off three mountain-tops, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, Stood sunset-flushed; and, dew'd with showery drops, Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the copse. " He was an excellent reader and we enjoyed his various selections. Theygave variety and new drift to our thought which was refreshing andbeneficial. When the boats were completed they were returned to theriver, but for the time being the rations and other things forming theircargoes were permitted to remain on shore covered by the paulins. Theboats swung gracefully at their lines and Jack was tempted to get outhis fishing tackle in the early evening and seat himself on one of thecabins to wait patiently for a bite. Softly the river rippled by with aninnocent murmur as if it had never been guilty of anything but thecalmest and best-behaved motion such as now reflected the great pinnacleacross the way standing 1200 feet clear cut against the glowing sky. Theair was balmy, no wind blew, and a universal quiet prevailed whensuddenly Jack uttered several exclamations not entirely in harmony withthe moment. He thought his precious hook was caught on a snag. Pullinggently in order not to break his line the snag lifted with it andpresently he was astounded to see, not the branch of a tree or awater-logged stick, but the head of an enormous fish appear above thesurface. Had there been some splashing he would have been prepared forthe extraordinary sight but the monster came with barely a wriggle as ifhe did not know what it was to be caught. He was successfully landed inthe middle cabin of the boat, which was empty except for some water, andlay there unhurt as if it were the natural place for him. Casting againanother of the same kind came forth and then a third. The longestappeared to be the length of the cabin, as he floated in the water, andthat was four feet. He was at least thirty or thirty-six inches with acircumference of fifteen inches. The others were considerably shorterbut nevertheless very large fish. The big one was killed for food andSteward noted that the heart after removal kept up pulsations of twentybeats to the minute for half an hour. These fish are now called ColoradoRiver salmon. The flesh was white and they seemed to us good eating. [Illustration: Colorado River White Salmon. Photograph by the Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway Surveyunder Robert Brewster Stanton, 1889. ] On Tuesday, August 29th, the third day of our waiting, as we were aboutto return to various occupations after dinner three rapid shots brokesuddenly on the quiet air from down the valley. It was our signal. "TheMajor" cried all in a breath, and a reply signal was instantly fired. Clem and I were sent immediately to the end of the island, carrying ourrifles, of course, for while we had little doubt as to who it was, theremight be a surprise. We hurried down while the others watched the bankbeyond. As soon as we cleared the bushes and could see the western shorewe distinguished the Major and a stranger by his side, with horses. Weshouted to them directions for reaching our camp and they rode up tillthey came opposite to it whence they were ferried over while Jones tookthe horses down to their camp about four miles below. The Major reportedan absolute failure in the attempt to find a way to the mouth of theDirty Devil River and he had not himself been able to do anything aboutit. The first trial was eastward from Glencove, a Mormon settlement onthe Sevier. It failed because the Indian guides refused to proceedbeyond fifty miles and it was not practicable to go on without them. Asecond party was then sent in a little later under Old Jacobnorth-eastward from Kanab. They reached a river flowing to the Coloradoat about the right place and for many miles followed it with extremedifficulty and hazard even at the low stage of water prevailing, downthrough a deep, narrow canyon. Sometimes they were compelled to swimtheir horses where the rapid stream filled the chasm from wall to wall, and continual crossing and re-crossing were necessary from one footingto another. This perilous effort was also abandoned. The Major had goneto Salt Lake and from there, being informed of these results, down to avillage called Manti whence he made his way across country to ourpresent position, with several pack animals bringing three hundredpounds of flour, a quantity of jerked beef, and twenty pounds of sugar. This was not exactly adequate to the circumstances but he probablythought it was all he could get through with to the meeting placeappointed in the time alloted. While he and Fred Hamblin, the manaccompanying him, were eating their dinner, we packed the boats, andwhen all was ready took them on board, the Major in his old place in thearmchair on our boat, and Hamblin on the middle deck of another. In therun down to the camp Hamblin was very uncomfortable for he was notaccustomed to boats, especially to boats that ran so fast. There weretwo little rapids, some swift chutes, and in several places the rivershoaled and we grated slightly on the gravel. Stretching away westward from Gunnison Butte we saw an exquisitelymodelled line of cliffs, some portions being a clear azure blue. Atfirst it was proposed to name them Henry Cliffs, but they were finallycalled from their colour, Azure. Presently we arrived at the camp wherewe found another man, Lyman Hamblin, a son of Jacob and nephew of Fred. They were both Mormons from Kanab near the Arizona line in southernUtah. They had a large amount of mail for us and every one fell toreading letters and papers. August 30th and 31st were spent here gettingour work in shape, making sketches and observations, as well as writingletters and helping the Hamblins prepare for their trip back through thewild country. They had met with no Indians on the way in and they hopedto be equally fortunate going back having no desire to see any. In this, as they told me afterwards, they were not successful. They mounted theirhorses, Friday, September 1st, about four in the afternoon when the westwas taking on a rich evening glow and turning in that directionvanished, with a wave of the hand and a good-bye, into the mystery ofcolour, bearing our letters, the geographic data, the geologic notes, and all the other material which we had collected since leaving themouth of the Uinta, and which it was thought advisable to send out bothfor safety and to relieve our crowded cabins. They said that the nextevening before they realised it they found themselves so near a largeencampment of Indians that there was no getting away, and they did theonly thing they could sensibly do, rode boldly on straight into themidst of the strangers with the hope that the band belonged where theywere on the west side of the river, in which case they were surelypeaceful. Both men spoke Ute well and they had had long experience. TheIndians proved to be entirely friendly, and the Hamblins camped withthem for the night; not because they wanted to but because they thoughtit inexpedient to do otherwise. When they left us we felt that they wereold friends for they were fine men and most agreeable. Besides, with theexception of Basor who had driven the team down from Salt Lake to theUinta with our rations, they were the only white men which those of uswho had not visited the Uinta Agency had seen since the Harrells inBrown's Park, nearly three months before. An hour after their departurewe pushed off and ran down about half a mile, passing one little rapid, to the old crossing where we stopped on the left for the night. Beamanand I were commissioned to go back to our Camp Gunnison to get a sawwhich had been forgotten there; we could not afford to lose so valuablean implement. A well-beaten Indian trail leading up the river gave useasy going and we made good time. The effects of light and colour allaround us playing over the mountains and valley gave the surroundings aweird interest. The day was ending. Long shadows stole across thestrange topography while the lights on the variegated buttes becamekaleidoscopic. As for us, we appeared ridiculously inadequate. We oughtto have been at least twenty feet high to fit the hour and the scene. Gradually the lights faded, the shadows faded, then both began to mergetill a soft grey-blue dropped over all blending into the sky everywhereexcept west where the burnish of sunset remained. Before dark the oldcamp was reached; we found the saw by the last dying rays and thenpicked our backward path by starlight following the trail as we hadcome. Silence and the night were one as in the countless years that hadcarved the dim buttes from the rocks of the world primeval when man wasnot. Beautiful is the wilderness at all times, at all times lovely, butunder the spell of the twilight it seems to enfold one in a tenderembrace, pushing back the sordid, the commonplace, and obliteratingthose magnified nothings that form the weary burden of civilised man. With keen appreciation we tramped steadily on till at last we perceivedthrough the night gloom the cheerful flicker of our camp-fire, a sightalways welcome, for the camp-fire to the explorer is home. At eight the next morning our business was resumed with the Major happyin his accustomed place. We made a nice run of eighteen miles on asmooth, shallow river, with broken, picturesque low cliffs and isolatedbuttes everywhere. The valley was wide and filled with these rockyhills. For a quarter of a mile on each side of the river there werecottonwood groves offering fine spots for camping, before and aftercrossing. There seemed to be several places where crossing wasaccomplished. At one of these we discovered where some Indians had beenin camp a few hours before. The placidity of the river permitted thelashing together of the boats once more for a time and while we driftedthis way down with the easy current the Major and Prof. Took turns atreading aloud from Whittier. _Mogg Megone_ was one selection that wasquite in harmony with the surroundings while other poems offered adelightful contrast. There were songs, too, and I specially identifywith this particular locality that old college favourite, _Dear Evelina, Sweet Evelina_ which everybody sang, and which the Major often sangalone as he peered ahead into the vista unfolding. Before night the valley narrowed, the banks looked more like low canyonwalls, and the current stiffened. A clump of small cottonwoods suggesteda camp as the sun ran down and there we halted. Nor did we go on thenext day as the Major desired to go out to a ridge lying to the west, which he had seen from his horse on his way to us across country. Joneswent with him and they came back with a fine collection of Cretaceousfossils. Steward and Cap. Also went collecting and were successful. Oursurroundings were now even more peculiar than heretofore. In many placesthe region was absolutely barren of all vegetation; thousands of acresat a time had upon them hardly a living plant of any description, beingsimply bare and barren rock, as devoid of soil as the deck of a ship. Prof. Took observations for latitude and longitude and the rest of uswere busy at our usual affairs. We had very little time to spare whenthe various necessary duties had been regularly attended to. [Illustration: Dellenbaugh Butte. Near Mouth of San Rafael. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] As we went on the next morning the desolation of the surroundingsincreased, if that were possible, and it was easy to read in this onecause of the tardiness of its exploration. The acreage of bare rock grewwider and broader. The buttes now often turned to walls about 150 feethigh, all much broken, but indicating the approach to another closing inof the rocks upon us. Many of these buttes were beautiful in theircastellated form as well as because of a picturesque banded character, and opposite our dinner-camp, which was on a ledge of rock, was onesurprisingly symmetrical, resembling an artificial structure. I thoughtit looked like an art gallery, and the Major said it ought to be namedafter the artist, so he called it "Dellenbaugh's Butte" then and there. Another singular feature of this day was a number of alkaline springsdiscovered bubbling up from the bottom of a sort of bayou or branch ofthe river. There were at least seventy-five of them, one throwing acolumn six or eight inches above the surface of the water here about twofeet deep. We thought the place worth a name, and called it UndineSprings. Three or four miles below the butte named after me we arrivedat the mouth of a river, twenty-five feet wide and eight or ten inchesdeep, coming in from the right. This was the San Rafael. Our camp wasmade near some cottonwoods between its left bank and the Green. As soonas we landed we perceived that the ground was strewn with flaked chipsof chalcedony, jasper, and similar stones. It was plain that here was afavourite workshop of the native arrowhead maker, an artisan nowvanished forever. Numerous well-finished beautiful arrow-heads of stonewere found, all being placed in the general collection for theSmithsonian Institution. Our Camp 54 was elevated considerably above theriver, and the surroundings being open, we had views in all directions. Towards the east we could see the Sierra La Sal, two clusters of roundedpeaks, forty or fifty miles away, forming a majestic picture. The placewas easy of access, and had been a favourite resort for natives, severalacres of camp remains being found. In the morning Prof. Began a seriesof observations to fix the position of the mouth of the San Rafael, while the Major and Jones, with rations, blankets, etc. , on their backsfor a two days' trip, started early up the tributary stream to see whatkind of a country it flowed through. Steward feeling somewhat under theweather did not attempt to do anything, while the photographer and theothers busied themselves in their respective lines. The following daythe Major and Jones returned as planned, having traced the San Rafaelfor twenty-five miles. Before they arrived Cap. And Clem went across theGreen to travel eastward to some high red buttes, one of which theyintended to climb for topographical purposes. These buttes loomed up ina striking way, and appeared to be no more than six miles off even toCap. 's experienced eye. The Major described the drainage basin of theSan Rafael as wofully barren and desolate, like the rest of oursurroundings. They had seen mountains lying beyond the Dirty DevilRiver, which were the range we then called the Unknown Mountains, therebeing no record of any one ever having seen them before the Major on hisfirst trip. Steward, recovering his poise, walked back alone on the east bank of theGreen four miles to Dellenbaugh's Butte to examine it and theintervening geology. He found the butte to be about four hundred feethigh and composed of stratified gypsum, thinly bedded and of finequality. As evening approached we looked for the return of Cap. And Clem, especially when the supper hour arrived, but twilight came, thendarkness, and still their footfall was not heard. The Major was greatlydisturbed over their failure to come, fearing they had gotten out ofwater, missed their way, and might now be suffering or demoralised inthe arid wastes to eastward. He ordered a large fire to be built on ahigh spot near camp, where it would be visible for miles in thedirection the missing men had gone. We divided into watches of two hourseach to keep the fire going, in order that the men should have a guideif they were trying to reach the river in the night. I was called formy turn at two in the morning, and read Whittier while feeding theflames. The sky was mottled with clouds driving impetuously across thezenith, the bright moon gleaming through the interstices as they rapidlypassed along. My attention was divided between the Quaker poet, theblazing fire, the mysterious environment into which I peered from timeto time, and the flying scud playing hide-and-seek with the moon. Atthree I called Andy, who had breakfast ready before five, and all handswere up prepared to start on a search. By the time we had eaten therewas light enough for operations to begin, and the Major, accompanied byJack, carrying between them two days' rations and as much water aspossible, were put across the Green to strike out directly eastward. Acouple of hours later Prof. Took a boat, with Steward and me to man itand another supply of food and water, and ran down the river a mile, where we headed back into the dry region to intersect at a distance theroute the Major was following. We had not gone far before signal shotscame to our ears, and through a glass turned in that direction werejoiced to see that the Major and Jack had met the lost ones and allwas well. Prof. Directed me to go back on foot to our camp with instructions forthe other boats to come down, while he, in response to further signals, dropped his boat to a point nearer to the position of the rescue partyand easier for them to reach. Cap. Had underestimated the distance tothe butte, which was twice as far as he thought. They walked eight hoursto get there only to discover that scaling it was out of the question. Amile and a half beyond they found one they could climb, but by the timethey had completed their observations on top of this evening overtookthem and they were at least fifteen miles from camp. Having consumedtheir lunch at noon and drank all their water they were in something ofa predicament, but luckily found some water-pockets in the barren rock, recently filled by the rains, so they did not suffer for thirst, andgoing hungry is not dangerous. Over the wide surfaces of bare rock theytravelled toward camp till night forced them to wait for daylight, whenthey kept on till they met the Major and Jack with water and food. No sooner had I arrived at the camp than the sky which was leaden andlow began to drop its burden upon us. Packing up could not be done tillthe rain slackened, and we sheltered ourselves as well as we could. Aswe waited a deep roaring sound from not far off presently fell on ourears and we were puzzled to explain it till an examination showed arecently dry gulch filled with a muddy torrent which leaped the lowcliff into the river, a sullen cascade. The San Rafael, too, was abooming flood. We packed the boats as soon as we could and ran downabout two miles and a half to where the first boat was. Cliffs borderedthe river again, 50 to 100 feet high, then 200 or 300, and we saw wewere in the beginning of the next canyon called from its winding course, Labyrinth. Over these straight walls hundreds of beautiful cascades bornof the rain were plunging into the river. They were of all sizes, allheights, and almost all colours, chocolate, amber, and redpredominating. The rocky walls, mainly of a low purplish-red tint, werecut into by the river till the outside curves of the bends wereperpendicular and sometimes slightly more than perpendicular, so thatsome of the cascades fell clear without a break. The acres of bare rockcomposing the surface of the land on both sides collected the rain asdoes the roof of a house, and the rills and rivulets rapidly unitingsoon formed veritable floods of considerable proportions seeking thebosom of the river. This seemed the most fantastic region we had yetencountered. Buttes, pinnacles, turrets, spires, castles, gulches, alcoves, canyons and canyons, all hewn, "as the years of eternity roll"out of the verdureless labyrinth of solid rock, made us feel more thanever a sense of intruding into a forbidden realm, and having permanentlyparted from the world we formerly knew. About noon we caught up to the other boat and all had dinner together, happy that nothing serious had befallen Cap. And Clem. During the wholeafternoon rain steadily fell upon the top of this rock-roofed world tillthe river rose several inches while its colour turned to a dull yellow, then to a red, showing how heavy the rainfall had been in the backcountry. We had our rubber ponchos on but we were more or less damp andwe began to notice that summer had passed for the air was chilly. Theriver was perfectly smooth making navigation easy and we were able topull steadily along with no interruption from rapids. The walls everincreased their height while over the edges the numberless astonishingrain cascades continued to play, varying their volume according to thedownpour from the sky. Before long the cliffs were from 800 to 1000 feethigh, often perpendicular, giving the waterfalls grand plunges. Thesegraceful tributaries were now occasionally perfectly clear and theysometimes fell so far without a break that they vanished in featherywhite spray. A projecting ledge at times might gather this spray againto form a second cascade before the river level was reached. The scenewas quite magical and considering the general aridity for a large partof the year, it appeared almost like a phantasm. "A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go. " The river twisted this way and that with the tongues of the bends filledwith alluvial deposit bearing dense clumps of scrub-oak, and grass. Eachnew bend presented a fresh picture with the changing waterfalls leapingover by the dozen till we might have thought ourselves in some Norwegianfiord, and we gave far more attention to admiring the scenery than tonavigating the boats. Late in the day we landed at the left on the pointof a bend and chopped a path through the thick oak brush to a grassyglade, where we soon had the paulins stretched across oars supported byother oars forming comfortable shelters in front of which huge fires ofdead oak and driftwood were kept going to dry things out. Andy set hispots to boiling and supper was soon prepared. All night the rain fell but our shelters kept us dry and every one had agood rest. When the morning of September 8th dawned clear and bracing wemet it with good spirits, though the spirits of our party seldom variedno matter what the circumstances, and every man took as much personalinterest in the success of the expedition as if he were entirelyresponsible for it. In order that Beaman might take some pictures and the topographers getnotes, no move was made. Prof. Climbed out obtaining a wide view in alldirections and securing valuable data. I also went up on the cliffs andmade a pencil sketch, and in the afternoon we explored a peculiarthree-mouthed side canyon across the river. Three canyons came togetherat their mouths and we called the place Trin Alcove. Prof. And the Majorwalked up it some distance and then sent for Beaman to come tophotograph. At nightfall rain began once more, and the shelters wereagain erected over the oars. Another morning came fair and we went onleaving Beaman to finish up views and the _Nell_ crew for other work. Aswe proceeded we would occasionally halt to wait but it was noon beforethey overtook us. Rain had begun before this and continued at intervalsduring the dinner stop. As soon as we started we ran into a heavydownpour and while pulling along in the midst of this our boat ran on asand-bar and got so far and fast aground that it required all ten men toget her off, the other crews walking in the water to where we were, asthe shoal was very wide. While thus engaged a beautiful colour effectdeveloped softly before us through an opalescent, vaporous shroud. Thesun came forth with brilliant power upon the retreating mists creating aclear, luminous, prismatic bow ahead of us arching in perfect symmetryfrom foot to foot of the glistening walls, while high above it restingeach end on the first terraces a second one equally distinct bridged thechasm; and, exactly where these gorgeous rainbows touched the rocks, roaring rain cascades leaped down to add their charm to the enchantingpicture. We were now at the beginning of a very long loop of the river, which wenamed Bow-knot Bend. Just at the start of this great turn we camped witha record for the whole day of 15-1/8 miles. Steward found some fragmentsof pottery. The next morning we remained here till ten for views, andthen we left Beaman on the summit of the low dividing ridge, where onecould look into the river on either side and see a point which we rowedmore than five miles to reach. [15] On the right bank we stopped fordinner, and when it was about ready several of us crossed, and, helpingBeaman down with his heavy boxes, ferried him to our side. The oppositebank was no more than one thousand feet in a straight line from ourstarting-place of the morning. Instead of now going on, a halt wasmade, because Steward, prowling around after his custom, had found somefossils that were important and he wanted more. The Major, with Jack, crossed the river for further geological investigations, while Prof. AndJones started to climb out, though the prospect was not encouraging. They ascended over rock, strangely eroded by water into caverns andholes, then along a ledge till Jones, being a taller man than Prof. , gotup and pulled Prof. After him with his revolver belt. They obtained aremarkable view. Buttes, ridges, mountains stood all round, with theriver so completely lost in the abruptness of its chasm that a mile fromthe brink the whole region was apparently solid, and the existence ofthe gorge with a river at bottom would not even be suspected. They couldtrace the line of Grand River by tower-like buttes and long ridges, andjust at the gap formed by the junction with the Green a blue mountainarose. The Sierra La Sal, too, could be seen lying on the horizon likeblue clouds. "Weird and wild, barren and ghost-like, it seemed like anunknown world, " said Prof. The country was a vast plateau similar to theone through which the Canyon of Desolation is carved, that is tiltingnorthward and increasing in altitude towards the south, so that as theriver runs on its canyon becomes deeper from this cause as well as itscutting. These great terraces sloping to the north were not beforeunderstood. They terminate on the south in vertical cliffs through whichthe river emerges abruptly. From such features as these the Major namedthis the Plateau Province. The cliffs terminating each plateau formintricate escarpments, meandering for many miles, and they might belikened to a series of irregular and complicated steps. Occasional highbuttes and mountain masses break the surface, but in general the wholearea forming the major part of the basin of the Colorado may bedescribed as a plateau country--a land of mesas, cliffs, and canyons. [Illustration: Labyrinth Canyon--Bowknot Bend. The Great Loop Is behind the Spectator. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] The next day, September 11th, we were on the river at 7. 30, and ranabout seven miles on smooth water before we stopped for a mid-day restand dinner on the right bank, as well as to enable Beaman to take someviews he desired. Another three miles and we halted again forgeologising and for photographs, while Prof. , taking Andy in his boat, went ahead to establish a camp somewhere below for the night, in orderthat we would not be so late getting supper. The days were now growingshort, and supper by firelight was a common thing. Rain soon began againand put a stop to the work, driving us forward between the scores ofcascades which soon began to leap anew from every height to the river. At one place a waterfall shot out from behind an arch set against thewall, making a singular but beautiful effect, and revealing to us onemethod by which some of the arches are formed. The place Prof. Hadselected for camp was reached almost the same time that he got there. Itwas on the left among the greasewood bushes, and there we put up ourpaulins for shelter on oars as before. We had made about fifteen miles. The walls receded from the river, forming what the Major named theOrange Cliffs, and were much broken, while the back country could beseen in places from our boats. Scores, hundreds, multitudes of buttes ofbare rock of all shapes and sizes were in sight, and one was called theButte of the Cross, because it suggested a cross lying down from oneposition, though from another it was seen to be in reality two distinctmasses. Here ended Labyrinth Canyon according to the Major's decision. We credited it with a length of 62-1/2 miles. Although winding throughan extremely arid country, it had for us been a place of rain andwaterfalls, and even though rapids were absent we had been neverthelesskept rather wet. There was not much change in structure between Labyrinth Canyon and thefollowing one of the series, Stillwater. The interval was one oflowered, much broken walls, well back from the river, leaving widebottom lands on the sides. We went ahead in the morning on quiet waterfor seven or eight miles, and stopped on a high bank for dinner and forexaminations. Prof. , Cap. , Steward, and the Major climbed out. Stewardgot separated from the others by trying to reach a rather distant butte, and when he tried to rejoin us he had considerable difficulty in doingso. For half an hour he searched for a place to get down, and we lookedfor one also from the bottom, and finally he was compelled to go downhalf a mile farther, where he made the descent only to find himself in adense jungle of rose-bushes, willows, and other plants. We had to cut away in to relieve him. The luxuriant growth of these plants seemed toindicate that the barrenness of the plateau was due not so much toaridity as to the peculiar rock formation, which, disintegrating easilyunder the frosts and rains, prevented the accumulation of soil. The soilwas washed away by every rain and carried by thousands of cataracts intothe river. Only when the country reaches the "base level of erosion, " asthe Major called it, would vegetation succeed in holding its place; thatis when the declivity of the surrounding region became reduced till therain torrents should lack the velocity necessary to transport any greatload of detritus, and the disintegrated material would accumulate, givea footing to plants, and thus further protect itself and the rocks. [Illustration: Stillwater Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] The Major and Prof. Now decided to use up all the photographic materialbetween this point and the Dirty Devil, and leave one boat at the latterplace till the next season, when a party would come in for it and takeit down to the Paria. We would be obliged to examine the Dirty Devilregion then in any event. Three miles below our dinner camp we arrivedat a remarkably picturesque bend, and on the outer circumference we madeour sixtieth camp, but so late that supper was eaten by firelight. Thebend was named by Beaman "Bonito, " and in the morning he made a numberof views. The bottom lands along the river had evidently been utilisedby the aboriginal inhabitants for farming, as fragments of potteryoccasionally found indicated their presence here in former days. It wasafternoon when we pushed off and left Bonito Bend behind. After a fewmiles the Major and Prof. Tried to climb out, but they failed. A buffsandstone, resting on red shale, was vertical for about 140 feeteverywhere and could not be surmounted. Above this stood anothervertical wall of five hundred feet, an orange coloured sandstone, inwhich no break was apparent. These walls closed in on the river, leaving barely a margin in many places. There were few landings, thecurrent, rather swift and smooth, swirling along the foot of the rocks, which rose vertically for 250 feet and were about four hundred feetapart. As the evening came on we could find no place to stop thatoffered room enough for a camp, and we drifted on and on till almostdark, when we discovered a patch of soil on the right that would give ussufficient space. The 13th of September happened to be my birthday, andAndy had promised to stew a mess of dried apples in celebration. Thisdoes not sound like a tremendous treat, but circumstances give the test. Our supply of rations being limited and now running low, Andy for sometime had been curbing our appetites. Stewed dried apples were grantedabout once a week, and boiled beans were an equal luxury. It wasconsequently a disappointment not to get the promised extra allowance ofapples on this occasion. Not only was the hour late, but there waslittle wood to be had, though diligent raking around produced enoughdriftwood to cook our supper of bacon, coffee, and bread. Our camp wasbeneath an overhanging cliff about six hundred feet high, and the wallsnear us were so heavily coated with salt that it could be broken off inchunks anywhere. The quarters were not roomy, but we got a good sleep. In the morning before he was fairly awake Steward discovered fossils inthe rocks over his head, and we remained till one o'clock in order thatan investigation could be made. He collected about a peck of finespecimens. When we started again the canyon was so interesting, particularly to the geologists, that we stopped several times in a runof five miles between vertical walls not over six hundred feet apart. Camp was finally made on the right in a sort of alcove, with a levelfertile bottom of several acres, where the ancients had grown corn. Evidences of their former life here were numerous. Steward, climbing onthe cliffs, suddenly gave a loud shout, announcing a discovery. He hadfound two small huts built into the rocks. Several of us went up to lookat them. They were of great age and so small that they could have beenonly storage places. Withered and hardened corncobs were found withinthem. On returning to camp we learned that the Major had found some largerhouse ruins on a terrace some distance up the river. Around thecamp-fire that evening he told us something about the Shinumos, as hecalled them, who long ago had inhabited this region, and in imaginationwe now beheld them again climbing the cliffs or toiling at theiragriculture in the small bottom land. At daylight Steward, Clem, and I went up to the ruins, which stood on aterrace projecting in such a way that a clear view could be had up anddown the river. There were two houses built of stone slabs, each about13 × 15 feet, and about six feet of wall were still standing. Thirtyfeet or more below ran the river, and there were remains of an oldstairway leading down through a crevice to the river, but too muchdisintegrated for us to descend. These were the first ruins of the kindI had ever seen, and I was as much interested in them as I afterwardswas in the Colosseum. Prof. , being desirous of arriving as speedily as possible at thejunction of the Grand with the Green, which was now not far off, for thepurpose of getting an observation for time, left us at seven o'clock andproceeded in advance, while the remainder of the party turned theirattention to the locality where we were. We could see traces of an oldtrail up the cliffs, and the Major, Jack, Andy, and Jones started tofollow this out. With the aid of ropes taken along and stones piled up, as well as a cottonwood pole that had been placed as a ladder by theancients, they succeeded in reaching the summit. Clem and I went back tothe large house ruins for a re-examination, and looked over thequantities of broken arrowheads of jasper and the potsherds strewing theplace in search of specimens of value. On the return trip of theclimbers Andy discovered an earthen jar, fifteen inches high and abouttwelve inches in diameter, of the "pinched-coil" type, under asheltering rock, covered by a piece of flat stone, where it had restedfor many a decade if not for a century. It contained a small coil ofsplit-willow, such as is used in basketry, tied with cord of aboriginalmake. Some one had placed it there for a few moments. After dinner we continued down the canyon, taking the pot with us. Thewalls were nearly vertical on both sides, or at any rate appeared so tous from the boats, and they often came straight into the water, withhere and there a few willows. They were not more than 450 feet apart. No rapids troubled us, and the current was less than three miles anhour, but we seemed to be going swiftly even without rowing. After aboutseven miles the trend of the chasm became easterly, and we saw the mouthof the Grand, the Junction, that hidden mystery which, unless we countD. Julien, only nine white men, the Major's first party, had ever seenbefore us. The Grand entered through a canyon similar to that of theGreen, all the immediate walls being at least 800 feet and the summit ofthe plateau about 1500 feet above the river. On the right was a smallbench, perhaps one-third of a mile long and several rods wide, fringedby a sand-bank, on which we found the crew of the _Nell_ established inCamp 62. Between the two rivers was another footing of about two acres, bearing several hackberry trees, and it was on this bank up the GrandRiver side that the first party camped. Across on the east shore wecould see still another strip with some bushes, but there was no morehorizontal land to be found here. The two rivers blended gracefully onnearly equal terms, and the doubled volume started down with recklessimpetuosity. This was the end of Stillwater Canyon, with a length of42-3/4 miles. At last we had finished the canyons of the Green, withevery boat in good condition and not a man injured in any way, and nowwe stood before the grim jaws of the Colorado. Our descent from GunnisonCrossing was 215 feet, with not a rapid that was worth recording, andfrom the Union Pacific crossing in feet, 2215, and in miles, 539. Thealtitude of the Junction is 3860 feet above sea-level. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 13: In fact there was only one practicable place, El Vado delos Padres, and that was difficult. The alternative would have been tocross Arizona south of the Colorado. By this Gunnison Crossing routethere were better wood, water, and grass to compensate for distance. ] [Footnote 14: It is here that the Denver and Rio Grande railway crossed, bridging the river in 1883. From here also the Brown Expedition startedin May, 1889, and the Best Expedition in 1891. ] [Footnote 15: Many years afterward on a rock face half-way round thisbend the inscription, D. Julien 1836 3 Mai, was found. The sameinscription was also found in two other places just below the mouth ofGrand River and near the end of Cataract Canyon. ] CHAPTER IX A Wonderland of Crags and Pinnacles--Poverty Rations--Fast and Furious Plunging Waters--Boulders Boom along the Bottom--Chilly Days and Shivering--A Wild Tumultuous Chasm--A Bad Passage by Twilight and a Tornado with a Picture Moonrise--Out of one Canyon into Another--At the Mouth of the Dirty Devil at Last. We were on the threshold of what the Major had previously named CataractCanyon, because the declivity within it is so great and the waterdescends with such tremendous velocity and continuity that he thoughtthe term rapid failed to interpret the conditions. The addition of thealmost equal volume of the Grand--indeed it was now a little greaterowing to extra heavy rains along its course--doubled the depth andvelocity of the river till it swirled on into the new canyon before uswith a fierce, threatening intensity, sapping the flat sand-bank onwhich our camp was laid and rapidly eating it away. Large masses with asudden splash would drop out of sight and dissolve like sugar in a cupof tea. We were obliged to be on the watch lest the moorings of theboats should be loosened, allowing them to sweep pell-mell before usdown the gorge. The long ropes were carried back to their limit and madefast to stakes driven deep into the hard sand. Jack and I becamedissatisfied with the position of our boat and dropped it down two orthree hundred yards to a place where the conditions were better, andcamped by it. There were a few small cottonwoods against the cliffbehind the sand-bank, but they were too far off to be reached by ourlines, and the ground beneath them was too irregular and rocky for acamp. These trees, with the hackberry trees across the river andnumerous stramonium bushes in full blossom, composed the chiefvegetation of this extraordinary locality. No more remote place existedat that time within the United States--no place more difficult ofaccess. Macomb in his reconnaissance in 1859 had tried hard to arrivehere, but he got no nearer than the edge of the plateau about thirtymiles up Grand River. It was necessary that we should secure topographic notes andobservations from the summit, and we scanned the surroundings for themost promising place for exit. The Major was sure we could make asuccessful ascent to the upper regions by way of a narrow cleft on theright or west some distance back up the Green, which he had noted as wecame along; so in the morning of Saturday, September 16th, he and Jack, Beaman, Clem, Jones, and I rowed up in the _Cañonita_, the current beingslow along the west bank, and started up the crevice, dragging thecumbrous photographic outfit along. Prof. Remained below forobservations for time. The cleft was filled with fallen rocks, and wehad no trouble mounting, except that the photographic boxes were likelead and the straps across one's chest made breathing difficult. Theclimb was tiring, but there was no obstacle, and we presently emerged onthe surface of the country 1300 feet above the river and 5160 above thesea. Here was revealed a wide cyclorama that was astounding. Nothing wasin sight but barren sandstone, red, yellow, brown, grey, carved into anamazing multitude of towers, buttes, spires, pinnacles, some of themseveral hundred feet high, and all shimmering under a dazzling sun. Itwas a marvellous mighty desert of bare rock, chiselled by the ages outof the foundations of the globe; fantastic, extraordinary, antediluvian, labyrinthian, and slashed in all directions by crevices; crevices wide, crevices narrow, crevices medium, some shallow, some dropping till afalling stone clanked resounding into the far hollow depths. Scarcelycould we travel a hundred yards but we were compelled to leap some deep, dark crack. Often they were so wide a running jump was necessary, and attimes the smooth rock sloped on both sides toward the crevice rathersteeply. Once the Major came sliding down a bare slope till at a pointwhere he caught sight of the edge of a sombre fissure just where hemust land. He could not see its width; he could not return, and there hehung. Luckily I was where by another path I could quickly reach therock below, and I saw that the crevice was not six inches wide, and Ishouted the joyful news. Steward had not come up with us, but hadsucceeded in ascending through a narrow crevice below camp. He soonarrived within speaking distance, but there he was foiled by a crack toowide to jump, and he had to remain a stranger to us the rest of the day. At a little distance back from the brink these crevices were not sonumerous nor so wide, and there we discovered a series of extremelypretty "parks" lost amidst the million turreted rocks. I made a pencilsketch looking out into this Sinav-to-weap, as the Major called it frominformation obtained from the Utes. [16] Beaman secured a number ofphotographs, but not all that were desired, and, as we did not haverations for stopping on the summit, we went back to camp and made theclimb again the next day. Fortunately the recent rains had filled manyhollows in the bare rock, forming pockets of delicious, pure water, where we could drink, but on a hot and dry summer's day travelling herewould be intolerable, if not impossible. Fragments of arrow-heads, chipsof chalcedony, and quantities of potsherds scattered around proved thatour ancient Shinumos had known the region well. Doubtless some of theirold trails would lead to large and deep water-pockets. There arepot-holes in this bare sandstone of enormous size, often several feet indepth and of similar diameter, which become filled with rain-water thatlasts a long time. The Shinumos had numerous dwellings all through thiscountry, with trails leading from place to place, highways and byways. The following day the Major and Jones climbed out on the side oppositecamp, that is on the east side, where they found an old trail andevidences of camping during the summer just closed, probably by theUtes. That night, Jones, in attempting to enter our boat in themoonlight, stepped on the corner of the hatch of the middle cabin, whichwas not on securely; it tipped, and he was thrown in such a way as toseverely injure his leg below the knee. This was the first mishap thusfar to any one of the party. The Major entertained some idea of making a boat trip up the Grand, buthe abandoned it, and we prepared for the work ahead. The rations, whichwere now fallen to poverty bulk, were carefully overhauled and evenlydistributed among the boats, so that the wrecking of any one would notdeprive us of more than a portion of each article. The amount for dailyuse was also determined; of the bacon we were to have at a meal onlyhalf the usual quantity. We knew Cataract Canyon was rough, but by thistime we were in excellent training and thoroughly competent for the kindof navigation required; ready for anything that strong boats like ourscould live through. At ten o'clock on Tuesday, September 19th, thecabins were all packed, the life preservers were inflated, and castingoff from Camp 62 we were borne down with the swift current. The waterwas muddy, of a coffee-and-cream colour, and the river was falling. Notfar below our camp we saw a beaten trail coming down a singular canyonon the left or east side, showing again that the natives understood theway in to the Junction. [17] We knew it was not far to rapids, as we hadseen two heavy ones from the brink above, and we soon heard the familiarroar of plunging water, a sound which had been absent since the end ofGray Canyon. Presently we were bearing down on the first one, lookingfor the way to pass it. On landing at the head it was seen to be arather rough place, and it was deemed advisable to avoid running it. Theboats were carefully let down by lines and we went on. In a shortdistance we reached a second rapid, where we decided to repeat theoperation that took us past the other, but these two let-downs consumedmuch time and gave us hard work. The water was cold, we were wet andhungry, and when we arrived at a third that was more forbidding than theones above we halted for dinner at its beginning. The muddy water boomedand plunged over innumerable rocks--a mad, irresistible flood. So greatwas the declivity of the river bed that boulders were rolled along underwater with a sound like distant thunder. We had noticed this also inLodore, but in Cataract it was more common. The rumbling wasparticularly noticeable if one were standing in the water, as we socontinually were. After dinner the boats were lowered past the rapid, but we had no respite, for presently we came upon another big one, thenanother, and another, and then still another, all following quickly andgiving us plenty of extremely hard work, for we would not risk the boatsin any of them. When these were behind us we went on a distance and cameto one that we ran, and then, wet through and shivering till our teethchattered, as well as being hungry and tired, every one was glad to hearthe decision to go into camp when we arrived at the top of another veryugly pair of them. The canyon having a north and south trend and itbeing autumn, the sun disappeared early so far as we were concerned; theshadows were deep, the mountain air was penetrating. As soon as possibleour soaking river garments were thrown off, the dry clothing from therubber bags was put on, the limited bacon was sending its fragrance intothe troubled air, the bread took on a nice deep brown in the Dutch oven, the coffee's aromatic steam drifted from the fire, and warm andcomfortable we sat down to the welcome though meagre meal. The rule wasthree little strips of bacon, a chunk of bread about the size of one'sfist, and coffee without stint for each man three times a day. Sugar wasa scarce article, and I learned to like coffee without it so well that Ihave never taken it with sugar since. The "Tirtaan Aigles" needed nowall the muscle and energy they could command, and an early hour foundevery man sound asleep. The record for the first day in Cataract Canyonwas nine miles, with eight bad rapids or cataracts, as they mightproperly be called, and out of the eight we ran but one. [18] The riverwas about 250 feet wide. [Illustration: Clement Powell Cataract Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871] The Major decided the next morning that he would try to get out on theright, and he took me with him. We had no great trouble in reaching theplateau at an elevation of eighteen hundred feet above the river, wherewe could see an immense area of unknown country. The broken andpinnacled character was not so marked as it had been at the Junction, but it was still a strange, barren land. We expected to findwater-pockets on the top, and we had carried with us only one quartcanteen of water. While the Major was taking notes from the summit of abutte, I made a zealous search for water, but not a drop could I find;every hole was dry. The sun burned down from a clear sky that meltedblack into eternal space. The yellow sand threw the hot rays upward, andso also did the smooth bare rock. No bird, no bee, no thing of lifecould be seen. I came to a whitish cliff upon which I thought theremight be water-pockets, and I mounted by a steep slope of broken stones. Suddenly, almost within touch, I saw before me a golden yellowrattlesnake gliding upward in the direction I was going along the cliffwall. I killed it with a stone, and cut off the rattles and continued myreconnaissance. At length I gave up the search. By the time I hadreturned to the foot of the butte on which the Major was making hisobservations, the heat had exhausted me till I was obliged to rest a fewmoments before ascending the sixty feet to where he was. I had carriedthe canteen all the time, and the water in it was hot from exposure tothe sun. The Major bade me rest while he made a little fire, and by theaid of a can and ground coffee we had brought he made a strong decoctionwith the whole quart. This gave us two cups apiece, and we had somebread to go with it. The effect was magical. My fatigue vanished. I feltequal to anything, and we began the return. The Major having no right arm, he sometimes got in a difficult situationwhen climbing, if his right side came against a smooth surface wherethere was nothing opposite. We had learned to go down by the same routefollowed up, because otherwise one is never sure of arriving at thebottom, as a ledge half-way down might compel a return to the summit. Weremembered that at one point there was no way for him to hold on, thecliff being smooth on the right, while on the left was empty air, with asheer drop of several hundred feet. The footing too was narrow. Iclimbed down first, and, bracing myself below with my back to the abyss, I was able to plant my right foot securely in such a manner that myright knee formed a solid step for him at the critical moment. On thisimprovised step he placed his left foot, and in a twinkling had made thepassage in safety. During our absence the men below had been at work. Camp was moved downthe river some three quarters of a mile, while the boats had beenlowered past the ugly pair of rapids, and were moored at the camp belowthe second. In one the current had "got the bulge, " as we called it, onthe men on the line; that is, the powerful current had hit the bow insuch a way that the boat took the diagonal of forces and travelled upand out into the river. For the men it was either let go or be pulledin. They let go, and the boat dashed down with her cargo on board. Fortune was on our side. She went through without injury and shot intoan eddy below. With all speed the men rushed down, and Jack, plungingin, swam to her and got on before she could take a fresh start. It was anarrow escape, but it taught a lesson that was not forgotten. Prof. Hadsucceeded in getting some observations, and all was well. It was beanday, too, according to our calendar, and all hands had a treat. By eight o'clock the next morning, Thursday, September 21st, we were onthe way again, with the boats "close reefed, " as it were, for trouble, but one, two, three and one half miles slid easily behind. Then, as ifto make up for this bit of leniency, six rapids came in closesuccession, though they were of a kind that we could safely run, and allthe boats went flying through them without a mishap of any kind. Thenext was a plunger so mixed up with rocks that we made a let-down andagain proceeded a short distance before we were halted by one more ofthe same sort, though we were able to run the lower portion of it. Alittle below this we met a friendly drop, and whizzed through its rushand roar in triumph. But there was nothing triumphant about the onewhich followed, so far as our work was concerned. We manoeuvred pastit with much difficulty only to find ourselves upon two more bad ones. Bad as they were, they were nevertheless runable, and away we dashedwith breakneck speed, certainly not less than twenty miles an hour, downboth of them, to land on the left immediately at the beginning of agreat and forbidding descent. These let-downs were difficult, oftenrequiring all hands to each boat, except the Major, whose one-armedcondition made it too hard for him to assist in the midst of rocks andrushing water, where one had to be very nimble and leap and balance withexactness. Two good arms were barely sufficient. Sometimes, in order topass the gigantic boulders that stretched far off from the shore, theboat had to be shot around and hauled in below, an operation requiringskill, strength, and celerity. The walls, very craggy at the top, increased in altitude till they werenow about sixteen hundred feet, separated from each other by one thirdof a mile. The flaring character of the upper miles of the canyon beganto change to a narrower gorge, the cliffs showing a nearer approach toverticality. At the head of the forbidding plunge we had our slice ofbacon, with bread and coffee, and then we fought our way down alongsideamongst immense boulders and roaring water. It was an exceedingly hardplace to vanquish, and required two and a half hours of the most violentexertion to accomplish it. All were necessary to handle each boat. Hardly had we passed beyond the turmoil of its fierce opposition than wefell upon another scarcely less antagonistic, but yet apparently so freefrom rocks that the Major concluded it could be run. At the outset ourboat struck on a concealed rock, and for a moment it seemed that wemight capsize, but luckily she righted, swung free, and swept down withno further trouble. The _Nell_ struck the same rock and so did the_Cañonita_, but neither was injured or even halted. These boats weresomewhat lighter than ours, having one man less in each, and thereforedid not hit the rock so hard. The boats were now heavy from beingwater-soaked, for the paint was gone from the bottoms. This would havemade no difference in any ordinary waters, but it did here, where wewere obliged to lift them so constantly. This was an extremely rough and wet day's work, and the moment the greatcliffs cut off the warmth of the direct sun we were thrown suddenly fromsummer to winter, and our saturated clothing, uncomfortably cool insunlight, became icy with the evaporation and the cold shadow-air. Weturned blue, and no matter how firmly I tried to shut my teeth theyrattled like a pair of castanets. Though it was only half-past three, the Major decided to camp as soon as he saw this effect, much as we hadneed to push on. We landed on the right, and were soon revived by dryclothes and a big fire of driftwood. We had made during the day a totaldistance of a trifle less than seven miles, one and three quarters sincedinner. There were fourteen rapids and cataracts, nine of which we ran, on a river about two hundred feet wide. We had sand to sleep on, but allaround us were rocks, rocks, rocks, with the mighty bounding cliffslifting up to the sky. Our books for the time being were not disturbed, but Whittier's lines, read further up, seemed here exactly appropriateto the Colorado: "Hurrying down to its grave, the sea, And slow through the rock its pathway hewing! Far down, through the mist of the falling river, Which rises up like an incense ever, The splintered points of the crags are seen, With water howling and vexed between, While the scooping whirl of the pool beneath Seems an open throat, with its granite teeth!" It was not long before the blankets were taken from the rubber bags andspread on the sand, and the rapids, the rocks, and all our troubles wereforgotten. The next day was almost a repetition of the preceding one. We began byrunning a graceful little rapid, just beyond which we came to a very badplace. The river was narrow and deep, with a high velocity, and thechannel was filled with enormous rocks. Two hours of the hardest kind ofwork in and out of the water, climbing over gigantic boulders along thebank, lifting the boats and sliding them on driftwood skids, tugging, pulling, shoving every minute with might and main put us at the bottom. No sooner were we past this one than we engaged in a similar battle withanother of the same nature, and below it we stopped for dinner, amidstsome huge boulders under a hackberry tree, near another roarer. One ofthese cataracts had a fall of not less than twenty feet in six hundred, which gave the water terrific force and violence. The canyon wallsclosed in more and more and ran up to two thousand feet, apparentlynearly vertical as one looked up at them, but there was always plenty ofspace for landings and camps. Opposite the noon camp we could see to aheight beyond of at least three thousand feet. We were in the heart ofanother great plateau. After noon we attacked the very bad rapid besidewhose head we had eaten, and it was half-past three when we had finishedit. The boats had been considerably pounded and there was a hole in the_Dean_, and a plank sprung in the _Nell_ so that her middle cabin washalf full of water. The iron strip on the _Dean's_ keel was breakingoff. Repairs were imperative, and on the right, near the beginning ofone of the worst falls we had yet seen, we went into camp for the restof the day. With false ribs made from oars we strengthened the boats andput them in condition for another day's hammering. It seemed as if wemust have gone this day quite a long distance, but on footing up it wasfound to be no more than a mile and a quarter. Darkness now fell earlyand big driftwood fires made the evenings cheerful. There was a vastamount of driftwood in tremendous piles, trees, limbs, boughs, railroadties; a great mixture of all kinds, some of it lying full fifty feetabove the present level of the river. There were large and smalltree-trunks battered and limbless, the ends pounded to a spongy mass ofsplinters. Our bright fires enabled us to read, or to write up notes anddiaries. I think each one but the Major and Andy kept a diary andfaithfully wrote it up. Jack occasionally gave us a song or two from therepertory already described, and Steward did not forget the mouth-organ, but through the hardest part of Cataract Canyon we were usually tiredenough to take to our blankets early. In the morning we began the day by running a little rapid between ourcamp and the big one that we saw from there, and then we had to exertsome careful engineering to pass below by means of the lines. Thisaccomplished we found a repetition of the same kind of work necessaryalmost immediately, at the next rapid. In places we had to lift theboats out and slide them along on driftwood skids. These rapids werelargely formed by enormous rocks which had fallen from the cliffs, andover, around, and between these it was necessary to manoeuvre theboats by lines to avoid the furious waters of the outer river. Afterdinner we arrived at a descent which at first glance seemed as bad asanything we had met in the morning but an examination showed a prospectof a successful run through it. The fall was nearly twenty feet in aboutas many yards. The Major and Prof. Examined it long and carefully. Asuccessful run would take two minutes, while a let-down would occupy usfor at least two hours and it had some difficult points. They hesitatedabout running the place, for they would not take a risk that was notnecessary, but finally they concluded it could be safely accomplished, and we pulled the _Dean_ as quickly as possible into the middle of theriver and swung down into it. On both sides the water was hammered tofoam amidst great boulders and the roar as usual was deafening. Justthrough the centre was a clean, clear chute followed by a long tail ofwaves breaking and snapping like some demon's jaws. As we struck intothem they swept over us like combers on the beach in a great storm. Itseemed to me here and at other similar places that we went through someof the waves like a needle and jumped to the top of others, to balancehalf-length out of water for an instant before diving to another trough. Being in the very bow the waves, it appeared to me, sometimes completelysubmerged me and almost took my breath away with the sudden impact. Atany rate it was lively work, with a current of fifteen or eighteen milesan hour. Beaman had stationed himself where he could get a negative ofus ploughing through these breakers, but his wet-plates were too slowand he had no success. After this came a place which permitted no suchjaunty treatment. It was in fact three or four rapids following eachother so closely that, though some might be successfully run, the lastwas not safe, and no landing could be made at its head, so a very longlet-down was obligatory; but it was an easy one, for each crew couldtake its own boat down without help from the others. Then, tired, wet, and cold as usual, we landed on the left in a little cove where therewas a sandy beach for our Camp 67. We had made less than four miles, inwhich distance there were six rapids, only two of which we ran. Atanother stage of water the number and character of these rapids would bechanged; some would be easier at higher water, some harder, and the samewould be true of lower water. Rapids also change their character fromtime to time as rocks are shifted along the bottom and more rocks fallfrom the cliffs or are brought in by side floods. The walls were nowabout two thousand feet, of limestone, with a reddish stain, and theywere so near together that the sun shone to the bottom only during themiddle hours of the day in September. It was now September 24th; a bright and beautiful Sunday broke, the skyabove clear and tranquil, the river below foaming and fuming between theragged walls in one continuous rapid with merely variations of descent. In three quarters of a mile we arrived before the greatest portion ofthe declivity, where, though there seemed to be a clear chute, we didnot consider it advisable to make the run because of conditionsfollowing; neither could we make a regular let-down or a portage. Theleast risky method was to carry a line down and when all was ready startthe boat in at the top alone. In this way when she had gone through, themen on the line below were able to bring her up and haul her in beforereaching the next bad plunge. There was no quiet river anywhere; nothingbut rushing, swirling, plunging water and rocks. We got past the badspot successfully and went on making one let-down after another forabout four miles, when we halted at noon for the rest of the day, wellsatisfied with our progress though in distance it appeared so slight. The afternoon was spent in repairing boats, working up notes, and takingobservations. The cliffs were now some 2500 feet in height, ragged andbroken on their faces, but close together, the narrowest deep chasm wehad seen. It was truly a terrible place, with the fierce river, thegiant walls, and the separation from any known path to the outer world. I thought of the Major's first trip, when it was not known what kind ofwaters were here. Vertical and impassable falls might easily have barredhis way and cataracts behind prevented return, so that here in a deathtrap they would have been compelled to plunge into the river or wait forstarvation. Happly he had encountered no such conditions. An interesting feature of this canyon was the manner in which hugemasses of rock lying in the river had been ground into each other by theforce of the current. One block of sandstone, weighing not less than sixhundred tons, being thirty or forty feet long by twenty feet square, hadbeen oscillated till the limestone boulders on which it rested hadground into it at least two feet, fitting closely. Another enormouspiece was slowly and regularly rocking as the furious current beat uponit, and one could feel the movement distinctly. A good night's sleepmade all of us fresh again, and we began the Monday early. Some workedon the boats, while Beaman and Clem went up "Gypsum" Canyon, as Stewardnamed it, for views, and the Major and I climbed out for topographicobservations. We reached an altitude above camp of 3135 feet at a pointseven or eight miles back from the brink. The view in all directionswas beyond words to describe. Mountains and mountains, canyons, cliffs, pinnacles, buttes surrounded us as far as we could see, and the rangewas extensive. The Sierra La Sal, the Sierra Abajo, and other shortranges lay blue in the distance, while comparatively near in thesouth-west rose the five beautiful peaks just beyond the mouth of theDirty Devil, composing the unknown range before mentioned. At noon wemade coffee, had lunch, and then went on. It was four o'clock by thetime we concluded to start back, and darkness overtook us before we werefairly down the cliffs, but there was a bright moon, and by its aid wereached camp. At half-past eight in the morning of September 26th we were againworking our way down the torrential river. Anybody who tries to gothrough here in any haphazard fashion will surely come to grief. It is apassage that can safely be made only with the most extreme caution. Thewalls grew straighter, and they grew higher till the gorge assumedproportions that seemed to me the acme of the stupendous andmagnificent. The scenery may not have been beautiful in the sense thatan Alpine lake is beautiful, but in the exhibition of the power andmajesty of nature it was sublime. There was the same general barrenness:only a few hackberry trees, willows, and a cottonwood or two along themargin of the river made up the vegetation. Our first task was adifficult let-down, which we accomplished safely, to find that we couldrun two rapids following it and half of another, landing then tocomplete it by a let-down. Then came a very sharp drop that we ran, which put us before another easy one, that was followed by a difficultbit of navigation through a bad descent, after which we stopped fordinner on the right at the head of another rapid. The cliffs now on bothsides were about 2800 feet, one quarter mile wide at top, and in placesstriking me as being perpendicular, especially in the outer curve of thebends. The boats seemed to be scarcely more than chips on the sweepingcurrent and we not worth mentioning. During the afternoon we halted anumber of times for Beaman to make photographs, but the proportions werealmost too great for any camera. The foreground parts are alwaysmagnified, while the distances are diminished, till the view is not thatwhich the eye perceives. Before stopping for the night we ran threemore rapids, and camped on the right on a sandbank at the head ofanother forbidding place. The record for the whole day was six and threequarter miles, with ten runs and two let-downs. At one bad place the_Nell_ got too far over and laboured so heavily in the enormous billowsthat Cap. , who pulled the bow oars, was completely lost to sight and theboat was filled with water. Only about thirty degrees of sky werevisible as one looked directly up from our camp. A pretty canyon came innear camp, and some of us took a walk up its narrow way. [Illustration: Cataract Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] In the morning Beaman made some pictures, and it was eleven o'clockbefore we resumed our navigation. Our first work was a let-down, whichtook an hour, and about a mile below we stopped for dinner on the left. Then we continued, making eight miles more, in which distance we ran sixrapids and made two line-portages. The last rapid was a bad one, andthere we made one of the portages, camping at its foot on the left bank. The walls began to diminish in height and the river was lessprecipitous, as is apparent from the progress we were able to make. September 28th we began by running two rapids immediately below camp, and the _Nell_ remained at the foot of the second to signal Beaman inthe _Cañonita_, as he had stayed behind to take some views. Another milebrought us to a rather bad place, the right having a vertical cliffabout 2700 feet high, but the left was composed of boulders spread overa wide stretch, so that an excellent footing was offered. The Major andProf. Concluded to climb out here, instead of a point farther downcalled Millecrag Bend, and, appointing Steward master of the let-downwhich was necessary, they left us. It was dinner-time when we got theboats below to a safe cove, and we were quite ready for the meal whichAndy meanwhile had been cooking. A beautiful little brook came down anarrow canyon on the left, and it was up this stream that the Major wentfor a mile and a half and then climbed on the side. They were obliged togive it up and come back to the bottom. By this time it was too late tomake another attempt, so they turned their backs on "Failure Creek, "and, returning to us, said we would go on as soon as we had eaten thesupper which Andy was preparing. They would climb out at Millecrag Bend. Andy had cooked a mess of beans, about the last we had, and what we didnot eat we put on board in the kettle, which had a tight cover. TheMajor's manner for a day or two had been rather moody, and when Prof. Intimated to me that we would have a lively time before we saw anothercamp, I knew some difficult passage ahead was on his mind; some placewhich had given him trouble on the first trip. About five o'clock we were ready; everything was made snug and tight onthe boats, nothing being left out of the cabins but a camp kettle ineach standing-room for bailing, and we cast off. Each man had hislife-preserver where he could get it quickly, and the Major put his on, for with only one arm he could not do this readily in case of necessity. The current was swift. We were carried rapidly down to where the gorgenarrowed up with walls vertical on each side for a height of fifty toone hundred feet. We soon dashed through a small rough rapid. A splashof water over our bow dampened my clothes and made the air feel chilly. The canyon was growing dim with the evening light. High above our headssome lazy clouds were flecked with the sunset glow. Not far below thesmall rapid we saw before us a complicated situation at the prevailingstage of water, and immediately landed on the left, where there wasfooting to reconnoitre. A considerable fall was divided by a rockyisland, a low mass that would be submerged with two or three feet morewater, and the river plunging down on each side boiled against thecliffs. Between us and the island the stream was studded by immenseboulders which had dropped from the cliffs and almost like pinnaclesstood above the surface. One view was enough to show that on this stageof water we could not safely run either side of the cataract; indeeddestruction would surely have rewarded any attempt. The right-handchannel from the foot of the island swept powerfully across to meet theleft-hand one and together they boomed along the base of the left-handcliffs before swinging sharply to the right with the trend of the chasmin that direction. There was no choice of a course. The only way was tomanoeuvre between the great boulders and keep in the dividing line ofthe current till a landing could be effected on the head of the islandbetween the two falls. The difficulty was to avoid being drawn to eitherside. Our boat went first and we succeeded, under the Major's quick eyeand fine judgment, in easily following the proposed course till the_Dean_ began to bump on the rocks some twenty yards above the exposedpart of the island. I tested the depth of water here with an oar as Jackpulled slowly along, the current being quite slack in the dividing line, and as soon as practicable we jumped overboard and guided our craftsafely to the island. Prof. In the _Nell_ was equally precise, and as hecame in we waded out to catch his boat; but the _Cañonita_ passed on thewrong side of one of the pinnacles and, caught in the left current, camenear making a run of it down that side, which would have resulteddisastrously. Luckily they were able to extricate themselves and Beamansteered in to us. Had the water been only high enough to prevent landingon this island we would have been in a bad trap, but had it been so highas to make navigation down the centre possible the rapid might perhapshave been run safely. We were now on the island, with darkness falling, and the problem was toget off. While Prof. And the Major went down to the foot to make a planwe sat in the diminishing light and waited. It was decided to pull theboats down the right-hand side of the island as far as the foot of theworst part of the right-hand rapid, and from there cut out into the tailof waves, pulling through as quickly as we could to avoid contact withthe base of the left wall along which the current dashed. We must pullfast enough to get across in the very short time it would take the riverto sweep us down to the crucial point. The gorge by this time was quitesombre; even the clouds above were losing their evening colour. We mustact quickly. Our boat as usual made the first trial. As we shot out, Jack and I bent to our oars with every muscle we possessed, the boatheaded slightly upstream, and in a few seconds we were flying along thebase of the cliffs, and so close that our starboard oars had to bequickly unshipped to prevent their being broken. In a few seconds morewe were able to get out into the middle, and then we halted in an eddyto wait for the other boats. They came on successfully and in thegloaming we continued down the canyon looking for a place to camp, ourhearts much lightened with our triumph over the difficult rapid. Beforelong night was full upon us and our wet clothes made us shiver. About amile below a warning roar dead ahead told us to make land at once, forit would be far from prudent to attack a rapid in the dark. Fortunatelythere was here room to camp on some rocks and sand on the right. Scarcely had we become settled than a tornado broke over the canyon andwe were enveloped in a blinding whirl of rain and sand. Each man clungto his blankets to prevent their departure and waited for the wind topass, which it did in less than ten minutes. The storm-clouds wereshattered and up the gorge, directly east from our position, from behinda thousand needle-like spires that serrated the top of the cliffs, themoon like a globe of dazzling silver rolled up with serene majesty, flooding the canyon with a bright radiance. No moon-rise could have beenmore dramatic. The storm-clouds were edged with light and the wet cliffssparkled and glittered as if set with jewels. Even the rapid below wasresplendent and silvery, the leaping waves and the spray scintillatingunder the lustrous glare. Morning brought a continuation of the rain, which fell in a deluge, driving us to the shelter of a projecting ledge, from whichcomparatively dry retreat we watched the rain cascades that soon begantheir display. Everywhere they came plunging over the walls, all sizes, and varying their volume with every variation in the downpour. Somedropped a thousand feet to vanish in spray; others were broken into manyfalls. By half-past eight we were able to proceed, running the rapidwithout any trouble, but a wave drenched me so that all my efforts tokeep out of the rain went for nothing. By ten o'clock we had run fourmore rapids, and arrived at the place the Major had named MillecragBend, from the multitude of ragged pinnacles into which the cliffsbroke. On the left we camped to permit the Major and Prof. To make theirprospective climb to the top. A large canyon entered from the left, terminating Cataract Canyon, which we credited with forty-one miles, andin which I counted sixty-two rapids and cataracts, enough to give anyset of boatmen all the work they could desire. The Major and Prof. Reached the summit at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet. They had awide view over the unknown country, and saw mountains to the west withsnow on their summits. Snow in the canyons would not have surprised usnow, for the nights were cold and we had warmth only in the middle ofthe day. Near our camp some caves were discovered, twenty feet deep andnearly six feet in height, which had once been occupied by natives. Walls had been laid across the entrances, and inside were corncobs andother evidences usual in this region, now so well known. Potteryfragments were also abundant. Another thing we found in the caves andalso in other places was a species of small scorpion. These venomouscreatures were always ready to strike, and somehow one got into Andy'sshoe, and when he put on the shoe he was bitten. No serious resultseemed to follow, but his general health was not so good after this fora long time. He put tobacco on the wound and let it go. This was thesecond accident to a member of the party, which now had been out fourmonths. [Illustration: Narrow Canyon. Photograph by Best Expedition, 1891. ] The last day of September found us up before daylight, and as soon asbreakfast was eaten, a small matter these days both in preparation andconsumption, we pulled away, intending to reach the mouth of the DirtyDevil as soon as possible. The morning was decidedly autumnal, and whenwe arrived at a small rapid, where we had to get overboard to help theboats, nothing ever came harder than this cold bath, though it wasconfined to our legs. Presently we saw a clear little rivulet coming inon the left, and we ran up to that shore to examine it, hoping it wasdrinkable. Like the first party, we were on the lookout for better waterto drink than the muddy Colorado. The rivulet proved to be sulphurousand also hot, the temperature being about 91 F. We could not drink it, but we warmed our feet by standing in the water. The walls of this newcanyon at their highest were about thirteen hundred feet, and so closetogether and straight that the Major named it Narrow Canyon. Its lengthis about nine miles. Through half of the next rapid we made a let-down, running the remainder, and then, running two more below which were easy, we could see through to the end of the canyon, and the picture framed bythe precipices was beautiful. The world seemed suddenly to open outbefore us, and in the middle of it, clear and strong against a sky ofazure, accented by the daylight moon, stood the Unknown Mountains, weirdand silent in their untrodden mystery. By this token we knew that theriver of the Satanic name was near, and we had scarcely emerged fromNarrow Canyon, and noted the low bluffs of homogeneous red sandstonewhich took the place of the high cliffs, when we perceived a sluggishstream about 150 feet wide flowing through the barren sandstone on ourright. Landing on its west bank, we instantly agreed with Jack Sumnerwhen on the first trip he had proclaimed it a "Dirty Devil. " Muddy, alkaline, undrinkable, it slipped along between the low walls of smoothsandstone to add its volume to that of the Colorado. Near us were theremains of the Major's camp-fire of the other voyage, and there Stewardfound a jack-knife lost at that time. At the Major's request he gave itto him as a souvenir. Our rising had been so early and our progress from Millecrag Bend soeasy that when our camp was established the hour was only nine o'clock, giving us still a whole day. The Major and Prof. Started off on an oldIndian trail to see if there was a way in to this place for horses, Cap. Took observations for time, and the others occupied themselves invarious ways, Andy counting the rations still left in our larder. That night around our camp-fire we felt especially contented, forCataract and Narrow canyons were behind, and never would we be calledupon to battle with their rapids again. The descent from the mouth ofGrand River was 430 feet, most of it in the middle stretch of CataractCanyon. [Illustration: The Mouth of Fremont River (The Dirty Devil River) Photograph by the Brown Expedition, 1889] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 16: The pencil sketches I made on this trip were taken toWashington, but I do not know what became of them. ] [Footnote 17: As mentioned in a previous footnote, the name D. Julien--1836, was later found near this point and in two other places. All these inscriptions appear to be on the same side of the river, theeast, and at accessible places. ] [Footnote 18: The next party to pass through this canyon was the BrownExpedition, conducting a survey for the Denver, Colorado Canyon, andPacific Railway in 1889. At the first rapid they lost a raft, withalmost all their provisions, and they had much trouble. See _The Romanceof the Colorado River_, Chapter xiv. Another expedition in 1891--theBest Expedition--was wrecked here. ] CHAPTER X The _Cañonita_ Left Behind--Shinumo Ruins--Troublesome Ledges in the River--Alcoves and Amphitheatres--The Mouth of the San Juan--Starvation Days and a Lookout for Rations--El Vado de Los Padres--White Men Again--Given up for Lost--Navajo Visitors--Peaks with a Great Echo--At the Mouth of the Paria. Having now accomplished a distance down this turbulent river of nearlysix hundred miles, with a descent toward sea-level of 2645 feet, withouta serious accident, we were all in a happy frame of mind, notwithstanding the exceedingly diminutive food supply that remained. Wefelt that we could overcome almost anything in the line of rapids theworld might afford, and Steward declared our party was so efficient hewould be willing to "run the Gates of Hell" with them! Barring anabsence of heat Cataract Canyon had been quite a near approach to thatunwelcome entrance, and the locality of the mouth of the Dirty Devilcertainly resembled some of the more favoured portions of Satan'snotorious realm. Circumstances would prohibit our lingering here, forour long stretch on short rations made the small amount we could allowourselves at each meal seem almost like nothing at all, and we weredesirous of reaching as soon as possible El Vado, something over ahundred miles below, where our pack-train was doubtless now waiting. The plan of leaving a boat at this place for a party to bring down, which should penetrate the unknown country the next year and thencomplete what we might now be compelled to slight, was carried out. The _Cañonita_ was chosen and the day after our arrival, Sunday, October 1st, we ran her down a short distance on the right, and therecarried her back about two hundred feet to a low cliff and up thirtyor forty feet above the prevailing stage of water, where we hid herunder an enormous mass of rock which had so fallen from the top as tolodge against the wall, forming a perfect shelter somewhat longer thanthe boat. All of her cargo had been left at camp and we filled hercabins and standing-rooms with sand, also piling sand and stones allabout her to prevent high water from carrying her off. When we weresatisfied that we had done our best we turned away feeling as onemight on leaving a friend, and hoping that she would be found intactthe following year. As nine o'clock only had arrived, the Major andJones then climbed out from this place, while Prof. With the _Nell_ran down about a mile and a half to the mouth of a gulch on the rightwhere he and the Major had traced the old trail. The rest of usreturned to camp. Prof. And Cap. Climbed out, after following thetrail up the gulch six miles, and they saw that it went toward theUnknown Mountains, which now lay very near us on the west. Steward gotout by an attempt not so far up the canyon and reached an altitude of1950 feet, where he had a clear, full view of the mountains. With hisglass he was able to study their formation and determined that lavafrom below had spread out between the sedimentary strata, forming whathe called "blisters. " He could see where one side of a blister hadbeen eroded, showing the surrounding stratification. [19] When the Major and Jones came back we put the cargo of the _Cañonita_ onthe _Dean_, and all of us embarked, seven in number, and ran down towhere the _Nell_ was moored. Here we camped for the night. The crewswere then rearranged, Beaman being assigned to my bow oars, Clem andAndy going in the _Nell_, while I was to sit on the middle cabin of the_Dean_ in front of the Major, where I could carry on my sketching. Wewere now a shaggy-looking lot, for our clothes had been almost worn offour bodies in the rapids. Our shoes, notwithstanding that the Major hadbrought us a fresh supply at Gunnison Crossing, were about gone, and wewere tanned till we could hardly have been distinguished from the oldShinumos themselves; but we were clean. Steward was a great lover ofBurns and could quote him by the page, though what he most liked torepeat just now was: "O wad some Power the giftie gie us To see oursels as others see us!" I think the _Address to the Deil_ would have been appropriate for thisparticular environment, but I do not remember that Steward quoted: "Hear me, auld Hangie, for a wee, An' let poor damned bodies be; I'm sure sma' pleasure it can gie, E'en to the deil, To skelp an' scaud poor dogs like me, An' hear us squeel!" The cargo of the _Cañonita_ was distributed among the cabins of the_Dean_ and the _Nell_, and Cap. Was somewhat disturbed by having anaddition to the bow compartment in the _Nell_. Each man had charge of acabin and this was Cap. 's special pride. He daily packed it somethodically that it became a standing joke with us, and we often askedhim whether he always placed that thermometer back of the fifth rib orin front of the third, or some such nonsensical question, which ofcourse Cap. Took in good part and only arranged his cabin still morecarefully. The next morning, the 2d of October, at eight o'clock, we continued ourvoyage, now entering a new canyon, then called Mound, but it wasafterwards consolidated with the portion below called Monument, andtogether they now stand as Glen Canyon. In about three and one halfmiles we ran several sharp little rapids, but they were not of muchconsequence, and we stopped to examine a house ruin we saw standing upboldly on a cliff on the left. It could be seen for a long distance inboth directions, and correspondingly its inmates in the old days couldsee every approach. Doubtless the trail we had seen on the right had itsexit on the other side near it. The walls, neatly built of thinsandstone slabs, still stood about fifteen feet high and fifteen inchesthick. The dimensions on the ground were 12 × 22 feet outside. It hadbeen of two or three stories, and exhibited considerable skill on thepart of the builders, the corners being plumb and square. Under thebrink of the cliff was a sort of gallery formed by the erosion of a softshale between heavy sandstone beds, forming a floor and roof about eightor ten feet wide, separated by six or seven feet in vertical height. Awall had been carried along the outer edge, and the space thus made wasdivided by cross walls into a number of rooms. Potsherds andarrow-heads, mostly broken ones, were strewn everywhere. There were alsonumerous picture-writings, of which I made copies. As we pulled on and on the Major frequently recited selections from thepoets, and one that he seemed to like very much, and said sometimes halfin reverie, was Longfellow's: "Often I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still: 'A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. '" He would repeat several times, with much feeling: "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts. " Another thing he enjoyed repeating was Whittier's _Skipper Ireson'sRide_: "Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart By the women of Marblehead!" Towards evening we came to another Shinumo ruin, where we made camp, having run altogether sixteen miles, with ten rapids, all small, betweenwalls of red, homogeneous sandstone, averaging about one thousand feetin height. The river, some three hundred and fifty feet wide, was low, causing many shoals, which formed the small rapids. We often had to wadealongside to lighten the boats, but otherwise these places were easy. Atrifle more water would have done away with them, or at least would haveenabled us to ignore them completely. The house ruin at our camp wasvery old and broken down and had dimensions of about 20 × 30 feet. Prof. Climbed out to a point 1215 feet above the river, where he saw plainlythe Unknown Mountains, Navajo Mountain, and a wide sweep of countryformed largely of barren sandstone. Steward felt considerably under theweather and remained as quiet as possible. In the morning we were quickly on the water, pushing along underconditions similar to those of the previous day, making twenty-sevenmiles and passing eleven very small rapids, with a river four hundredfeet wide and the same walls of homogeneous red sandstone about onethousand feet high. The cliffs in the bends were often slightlyoverhanging, that is, the brink was outside of a perpendicular line, but the opposite side would then generally be very much cut down, usually to irregular, rounded slopes of smooth rock. The verticalportions were unbroken by cracks or crevices or ledges, being extensiveflat surfaces, beautifully stained by iron, till one could imagine allmanner of tapestry effects. Along the river there were large patches ofalluvial soil which might easily be irrigated, though it is probablethat at certain periods they would be rapidly cut to pieces by highwater. Prof. Again climbed out at our noon camp, and saw little but nakedorange sandstone in rounded hills, except the usual mountains. In thebarren sandstone he found many pockets or pot-holes, a feature of thisformation, often thirty or forty feet deep, and frequently containingwater. Wherever we climbed out in this region we saw in the depressionsflat beds of sand, surrounded by hundreds of small round balls of stonean inch or so in diameter, like marbles--concretions and hard fragmentswhich had been driven round and round by the winds till they were quitetrue spheres. [20] The next day, October 4th, we ran into a stratum of sandstone shale, which at this low stage of water for about five miles gave us sometrouble. Ledge after ledge stretched across the swift river, which atthe same time spread to at least six hundred feet, sometimes onethousand. We were obliged to walk in the water alongside for greatdistances to lighten the boats and ease them over the ridges. Occasionally the rock bottom was as smooth as a ballroom floor; again itwould be carved in the direction of the current into thousands ofnarrow, sharp, polished ridges, from three to twelve inches apart, uponwhich the boats pounded badly in spite of all exertions to prevent it. The water was alternately shallow and ten feet deep, giving us all wecould do to protect the boats and at the same time avoid sudden duckingsin deep water. With all our care the _Nell_ got a bad knock, and leakedso fast that one man continually bailing could barely keep the waterout. We repaired her at dinner-time, and, the shales running up abovethe river, we escaped further annoyance from this cause. Even with thisinterference our progress was fairly good, and by camping-time we hadmade twenty-one miles. We had a rapid shallow river again the following day, October 5th, butthe water was not so widely spread out and there were fewer delays. Thewalls were of orange sandstone, strangely cut up by narrow side canyonssome not more than twenty feet wide and twisting back for a quarter of amile where they expanded into huge amphitheatres, domed and cave-like. Alcoves filled with trees and shrubs also opened from the river, andnumerous springs were noted along the cliffs. Twelve miles below ourcamp we passed a stream coming in on the left through a canyon about onethousand feet deep, similar to that of the Colorado. This was the SanJuan, now shallow and some eight rods wide. We did not stop till noonwhen we were two miles below it near one of the amphitheatres orgrottoes to which the first party had given the name of "Music Temple. "The entrance was by a narrow gorge which after some distance widened atthe bottom to about five hundred feet in diameter leaving the upperwalls arching over till they formed a dome-shaped cavern about twohundred feet high with a narrow belt of sky visible above. In thefarther end was a pool of clear water, while five or six greencottonwoods and some bushes marked the point of expansion. One side wascovered with bright ferns, mosses, and honeysuckle. Every whisper orcough resounded. This was only one of a hundred such places but we hadno time to examine them. On a smooth space of rock we found carved bythemselves the names of Seneca Howland, O. G. Howland, and William Dunn, the three men of the first party who were killed by the Shewits in 1869. Prof. Climbed up eight hundred feet and had a fine view of NavajoMountain which was now very near. We then chiefly called it MountSeneca Howland, applied by the Major in memory of that unfortunateperson but later, the peak already having to some extent been known asNavajo Mountain, that name was finally adopted. No one had ever been toit, so far as we knew, and the Major was desirous of reaching thesummit. [Illustration: Glen Canyon. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] Leaving the Music Temple, which seemed to us a sort of mausoleum to thethree men who had marked it with their names, we soon arrived at apretty rapid with a clear chute. It was not large but it was the onlyreal one we had seen in this canyon and we dashed through it withpleasure. Just below we halted to look admiringly up at Navajo Mountainwhich now loomed beside us on the left to an altitude of 10, 416 feetabove sea level or more than 7100 feet above our position, as was laterdetermined. The Major contemplated stopping long enough for a climb tothe top but on appealing to Andy for information as to the state of thesupplies he found we were near the last crust and he decided that we hadbetter pull on as steadily as possible towards El Vado. We ran down aconsiderable distance through some shallows and camped on the lefthaving accomplished about twenty miles in the day towards our goal. Herethe remaining food was divided into two portions, one for supper, theother for breakfast in the morning. Though we were running so close tothe starvation line we felt no great concern about it. We always hadconfidence in our ability somehow to get through with success. Andy, particularly, never failed in his optimism. Generally he took nointerest in the nature of a rapid, lying half asleep while the othersexamined the place, and entirely willing to run anything or make aportage or even swim; he cared not. "Nothing ever happens to any outfitI belong to, " he would declare shifting to an easier position, "Let hergo!" and now so far as Andy's attitude was concerned we might havepossessed unlimited rations. Jack lightened the situation yet more withhis jolly songs and humorous expressions and no one viewing that campwould have thought the ten men had before them a possibility of severaldays without food, except what they might kill in the barren country, and perhaps a walk from El Vado over an unknown trail about one hundredmiles out to Kanab. In the morning, Friday, October 6th, we got away asquickly as we could and pulled down the river hoping that El Vado wasnot far ahead and feeling somewhat as Escalante must have felt a centurybefore when he was trying to find it. He had the advantage of havinghorses which could be eaten from time to time. Of course we knew fromthe position of the San Juan and of Navajo Mountain, that we could reachEl Vado in at most two days, but the question was, "would we find anyone there with rations?" The Major apparently was unconcerned. He toldme a story about a farmer's son in his neighbourhood when himself a boywho had no shoes, no good clothes, no decent hat, but who went to thefather and declared he wanted a "buzzum pin, " and nothing but a buzzumpin would he have, though his parent called his attention to his lack ofother necessaries, one after the other. "No Pa, " the boy would repeat "Iwant a buzzum pin. " [Illustration: Looking down upon Glen Canyon. Cut through homogeneous sandstone. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, U. S. Colo. Riv. Exp. ] As we rowed along the Major sang softly another of his favourites: "Flow gently, sweet Afton! among thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream-- Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. " The almost vertical walls ran from two hundred to one thousand feet inheight, cut by many very narrow side canyons opening into large glens oralcoves. On and on we steadily pulled till noon, making 13-1/2 mileswhen we stopped on the right on a sandstone ledge against a high cliff. Andy had a few scraps left, among them a bit of bacon which Jackenterprisingly used for baiting a hook and soon drew out several smallfish, so that after all we had quite a dinner. The walls became morebroken as we went on apparently with numerous opportunities for entrancefrom the back country, though the sandstone even where not very steepwas so smooth that descent over it would be difficult. We had gone aboutthree miles after dinner when we saw a burned place in the brush on theright where there was quite a large piece of bottom land. We thoughtthis might be some signal for us but we found there only the tracks oftwo men and horses all well shod proving that they were not natives. About three miles farther down we caught a glimpse of a stick with awhite rag dangling from it stuck out from the right bank, and at thesame moment heard a shot. On landing and mounting the bank we foundCaptain Pardyn Dodds and two prospectors, George Riley and JohnBonnemort, encamped beside a large pile of rations. Dodds was one ofthe men with Old Jacob who had tried desperately to reach the mouth ofthe Dirty Devil with our supplies. He thought he had arrived at a pointwhere he could see it and went back to inform Jacob when they receivedan order from the Major to come to this place, El Vado de los Padres, bySeptember 25th, and here he was. Jacob had come with him but had gone onto Fort Defiance, the Navajo Agency, to settle some Indian business, leaving him to guard the rations. Having left Kanab early in Septemberthey had no late news. They had become discouraged by our non-appearanceand concluded that we would never be heard from again. Consequently theyhad planned to cache the rations and leave for the settlement on Sunday. That night Andy was able to summon us to "go fur" the first "square"meal we had eaten for nearly a month. There was among the supplies someplug tobacco which we cut up, all but Steward, Prof. , and Cap. Who didnot smoke, and rolled in cigarettes with thick yellow paper, the onlykind we had, having learned to make them Spanish fashion from theHamblins, and we smoked around the fire talking to Dodds and theprospectors over the general news. They told us they had found smallquantities of gold along the river. A great many papers, magazines, andletters for everybody were in the packs supplying us with reading matterenough for weeks. Though the papers were of ancient dates they were newto us. The whole next day was consumed in preparing maps, notes, specimens, fossils, etc. , to be sent by pack-train to the settlement of Kanab onehundred miles off whither the Major himself had decided to start withthe outfit the next morning and go from there to Salt Lake City about400 miles north. None of us had a chance to write even a line toexpectant relatives far away and we were naturally disappointed tillProf. Persuaded the Major to hold over till Tuesday which he willinglydid when he realised the situation. We wrote late by the light of adiminutive fire, wood being scarce. He then left us on October 10th withJack, Captain Dodds, and the miners who had waited only to learnsomething about the river above as a place for prospecting. The trail upover the barren sandstone was so steep and smooth that two of thepack-animals lost their footing and rolled back to the bottom butreceived no injury except scraping the skin off their knees. Not the least welcome articles among the supplies were a pair of goodheavy shoes and a pair of strong overalls, which the foresight of theMajor had secured for each one of us, our clothing, as beforementioned, having been completely worn out. My watch, which I hadcarried all the way in a little rubber pocket sewed to my shirt near theneck, where it seldom got wet enough to stop it, though occasionally itrefused to go till I punched it up with a large pin kept for thepurpose, which my wicked companions called my "starting bar, " at lasthad stopped permanently, and I sent it out by Jack for repairs. Afterthey had gone we settled down again to our accustomed labours. We wereto run down thirty-five miles farther to the mouth of the Paria, whencethere was another known trail to the settlement, and cache the boats. The pack-train was to come back to us there with additional supplies andhorses and take us out to Kanab, where we were to make headquarters forour winter explorations in the practically unknown Grand Canyon regionas well as in that to the eastward. During this interval we expected todiscover some point between the Paria and Diamond Creek where rationscould be brought in to us while working through the Grand Canyon thenext season. We did not then know that the winter is the safest and besttime for making the passage through that wonderful gorge. [21] Our appetites were now enormous, and as we could eat all we wanted, thesupplies diminished in an astonishing way, but as we were soon toreceive more we did not care. Every man braced up; all but Steward, whofelt quite sick. Jones began to feel trouble brewing in the leg which hehad hurt at the Junction; Andy showed the effects of the scorpion biteby becoming thin and pale, thinner than our previous lack of rationsjustified; Cap. , who had been shot in the Civil War through and throughnear the heart, now felt the effects of the long exposure; and neitherClem nor Beaman considered their health perfect. Altogether, however, wehad come through very well. Our worst work was over for this year, andthe maladies portending seemed not dangerous. Prof. , desiring to getsome notes from up the river, went on the 11th, with Cap. , Beaman, andClem, back six miles in the _Dean_ to the foot of some rapid water theycould not pass. Arriving there about half-past twelve, they spent allafternoon going up numerous gulches, trying to find a way out. As therewas a large area of bottom land, with old camp-fires and much brokenpottery, they were sure there was a path, but it was late before theydiscovered a place where modern natives had piled brush and stones tomake a horse trail, and another where the old Shinumos for fifty feethad cut steps in the smooth rock. The party followed the Shinumo trail, finding the steps in places almost worn out by time, in others stillquite good and large enough to get the toe of a shoe in. By the timethey came to the top it was too late for observations, and they returnedto the river for camp, making the same climb by the steps the next dayand securing the observations. They got back to our Camp 79 late in theafternoon. Meanwhile Steward's illness had increased, and I spent muchof the night trying to relieve his pain. The air was cold and he wasmost uncomfortable, the only shelter being a wickiup of boughs we hadbuilt to protect him from the sun. We had opium pills in our medicinechest, and I had the little flask of brandy referred to. With several ofthe pills and my brandy, which I at last persuaded him to take asmedicine (he despised alcoholic drinks), his suffering was somewhatrelieved, and he was able to lie still on his bed of willows. During thenext day his condition was no better, and Prof. Returning, was muchdistressed by it. By drawing further on the medicine chest, whichcontained numerous remedies, he was able to relieve him a little more. The exposure had brought on a trouble of the back which had originallydeveloped during the campaigns of the Civil War. [Illustration: Tom. A Typical Navajo. Photograph by Wittick. Tom became educated and no longer looked like an Indian. ] Before leaving this point Prof. Wanted some observations from theheights, and he and Cap. Tried to climb the near-by cliffs, but failed. They then took a hammer and chisel, and by cutting "holds" in thesandstone after the manner of the old Shinumos, they got up 850 feet andsecured the bearings Prof. Desired. The following day they went out onthe trail toward Kanab five miles, trying to find another point of exitto the summit, but did not succeed. While they were gone we heard asudden shout, and saw an Indian standing on the rocks not far away. Webeckoned for him to come, and thereupon he fell back to another, andtogether they approached. We saw by their dress, so different from theUte (red turbans, loose unbleached cotton shirts, native woven sashes atthe waist, wide unbleached cotton trousers reaching to a little belowthe knee and there slashed up on the outer side for seven or eightinches, bright woven garters twisted around their red buckskin legginsbelow the knee, and red moccasins with turned up soles and silverbuttons), that they were Navajos. [22] They indicated that they werefather and son, the father announcing himself in a lordly way as "AguaGrande. " He was over six feet tall and apparently sixty or seventy yearsold. The son was a fine young lad of about fifteen. Their bearing wascordial, yet proud and dignified. They had not long been with us whenProf. Came in, and during the next hour seven more Navajos arrived, alldressed very much as the first ones were. They expressed greatfriendliness by embracing us after their custom and delivering longspeeches, of which we understood not a word. One had a short blackmustache which came straight out sidewise and then turned at rightangles down past the corners of his mouth. I never had heard of anIndian with a mustache before. They had no visible firearms, being armedwith strong bows and cougar-skin quivers full of iron-headed arrows. [23]Old Agua Grande became much interested in our sick man, and made signsby placing two spread fingers of one hand inverted upon one finger heldhorizontally of the other hand, and moving them north-westerly toindicate that he ought to ride out to the Mormon settlement, whitherthey were bound, and that they would take him along. As the chief hadexhibited a document, signed by the agent at Fort Defiance, to theeffect that he and his band were peaceable and going on a tradingexpedition to the Mormon settlements, we felt certain they would takegood care of the invalid, but Steward said he preferred to remain withus. We now had no further work for this immediate locality, and concluded torun down a mile or so to separate ourselves from the Navajos, one havingdisclosed a tendency to surreptitiously appropriate small articlesbelonging to us. A bed was made on the middle deck of one of the boatsfor Steward, and when all was ready we carried him down to it. TheNavajos ranged themselves along the bank to see us off, and Clem, withhis customary urbanity, went down the line all smiles, shaking each onecordially by the hand, and requesting him to "Give my love to all thefolks at home, " and "Remember me, please, to Eliza Jane, " and similarexpressions. The Navajos did not understand the words, but beingthemselves great jokers they saw that it was fun, and they all laughed, making remarks which doubtless were of the same kind. Just below was ElVado de los Padres by which these Navajos had now come across. It wasalso sometimes called the Ute Ford. The necessary route was indicated bya line of small piles of stones showing above water. It was not an easycrossing, feasible only at low water, and quite impossible for waggons, even had there been a road to it. A shoal was followed up the middle ofthe river half a mile with deep channels cutting through it, reachedfrom the south over a steep slope of bare sandstone and from the norththrough a very narrow, small canyon, not over ten feet wide. Escalantein 1776, after the failure of his attempt to reach California, had greatdifficulty in finding the place, which for centuries has been known toall the tribes of the region. About three miles below our last camp welanded on the left on a very pretty piece of bottom land, inaccessibleexcept by river, being bounded behind by a high, vertical, unscalablewall. Here we made Camp 80, with plenty of food, water, and wood, andall were comfortable by a fine fire; all but Steward, who, feeling verysick, was lying on the bed we had prepared for him. He had another badnight, but after this his condition seemed gradually to improve. [Illustration: Glen Canyon. Sentinel Rock--about 300 Feet High. Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871. ] Prof. 's favourite quotation now was Charles Fenno Hoffman's poem: "We were not many--we who stood Before the iron sleet that day; Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years if but he could Have been with us at Monterey. " In the morning he went with Jones across the river and climbed out whilethe rest of us did nothing but lie around camp doing what was possibleto make Steward comfortable. It was Sunday as well and wheneverpracticable we rested the whole or part of that day. Monday we startedlate and ran only a short distance before dinner which we ate on theright. Steward still was unable to sit up and he was carried on themiddle deck of the _Nell_ where he had a rope to cling to so that heshould not roll off into the water when the boat lurched. Toward eveningwe camped at the head of a small rapid near a fine little stream comingin from the left which we named Navajo Creek. The river was about fourhundred feet wide with walls on each side of four hundred feet inheight. The next morning Prof. , Cap. And I climbed out for bearingsreaching an altitude a mile or so back from the river of 875 feet. Everywhere we discovered broken pottery, fragments of arrow-heads, andother evidences of former Shinumo occupancy. Even granting only a fewpersons at each possible locality, the canyons of the Colorado and Greenmust have been the former home of a rather large population. In theafternoon we ran the little rapid and kept on for about six miles makingtwenty in all from El Vado, when we camped on a heavy talus on the left. The following morning, October 18th, we had not gone more than a milewhen we came to a singular freak of erosion, a lone sandstone pinnacleon the right, three hundred or four hundred feet high, the river runningon one side and a beautiful creek eight feet wide on the other. We namedthese Sentinel Rock and Sentinel Creek and camped there for Beaman toget some photographs. Prof. And I went up the creek and tried to climbout for observations, but though we made three separate attempts we hadto give it up. Steward grew so much better that he was able to walk alittle, but now Jones began to feel more pain in his injured leg. OnThursday, the 19th, we made nearly seven miles between walls about eighthundred feet high and one quarter of a mile apart, so nearly verticalthat we could not get out. The next day we ran six miles more with walls one thousand feet high, camping at a place where there was a wide bottom with many signs of oldnative camps, probably Navajo. In the morning Prof. , Cap. , and I climbeda steep slope of bright orange sand a little below our camp, a ratherhard task as the sand was loose, causing us to slip backward at everystep. After twelve hundred or fifteen hundred feet of this kind ofclimbing we reached the base of three rocky peaks several hundred feethigher. We had considerable difficulty in surmounting one of these, being forced around to the opposite side, where there was a sheerdescent from our position of some fifteen hundred feet, with sharp blackrocks at the bottom where any one slipping would fall. There were somenarrow transverse crevices in the rock by means of which we got up. Oneman, having been pushed aloft from the solid ledge by the two below, would lie back against the slope, brace himself with one heel in atransverse fissure, and lower the free foot as a handhold for theothers to mount by. The next trouble was a crevice wide enough for usto pass through to the top, but holding exactly midway a large rocklodged in such a manner that we could not crawl under and yet seemingin danger of rolling down if we went over it. It was precarious not onlyfor the man ahead who tried to pass but for those below waiting forresults, but it was more firmly wedged than it appeared to be and eachone in turn climbed over it. Emerging from this crack we were on thesummit 2190 feet above the river and 5360 above the sea, with standingroom no more than six or eight feet square. The view was superb. Thepeaks formed the northern end of a long line of cliffs running back tothe south at the end of Glen Canyon, and we looked out across awonderful region, part of that on the south being the "Painted Desert, "so called by Ives. Mountains solid and solitary rose up here and thereand line upon line of strangely coloured cliffs broke across the widearea, while from our feet stretching off to the south-west like a greatdark dragon extending miles into the blue was the deep gorge of MarbleCanyon, its tributary chasms appearing like mighty sprawling legs. Faraway west were the San Francisco Mountains, and the Kaibab, while behindwe saw Navajo Mountain and others. This peak, or cluster of peaks, of course had never been named, hadnever been climbed before, but they soon named themselves. For amusementI tried to shoot into the river with Cap. 's 44 Remington revolver. As Ipulled the trigger the noise was absolutely staggering. The violentreport was followed by dead silence. While we were remarking theintensity of the crash, from far away on some distant cliffs northwardthe sound waves were hurled back to us with a rattle like that ofmusketry. We tried again with the same result, the interval between thegreat roar and the echo being twenty-four seconds by the watch. We couldcall the place nothing but Echo Peaks, and since then the name has beenapplied also to the line of cliffs breaking to the south. Our descentwas easy and we reached camp without any incident except the loss of mysheath knife. Nobody did anything the next day, for it was Sunday, so when Mondaymorning came we were eager to be off for the mouth of the Paria, whichwe had seen from the top of Echo Peaks. Two or three miles down wereached it; a small river coming through a great canyon on the right. The cliffs of Glen Canyon broke back south-westerly and south-easterlyin a V form with the point at the foot of Glen Canyon, leaving a wideplatform of different rock rising gently from under them and mountingsteadily toward the south. Into the middle of this the river immediatelyslashed a narrow gorge very much as a staircase might be cut through afloor, beginning the next canyon of the series, called Marble, throughwhich we would not descend till the following year. We went into camp onthe left bank of the Paria and the right of the Colorado, Camp 86, inthe tall willows. A rough scow lay there, which the Major had built theyear before when on his way from Kanab to the Moki Towns, for there isno ford. We were to wait here for our pack-train which the Major, on arriving atKanab, was to start back with rations and some extra horses. Ouraltitude was 3170 feet, showing a total descent for the season of 2905feet, 913 feet from Gunnison Crossing. Our work on the water for thepresent was now over; we would pursue it with mule and pack instead ofwith boats. As the 23d of October had arrived we were glad to avoiddaily saturation. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 19: These blisters were later called laccolites by G. K. Gilbert after his careful study of the locality. See his _Geology of theHenry Mountains_, published by the government. ] [Footnote 20: The illustration on page 43 of _The Romance of theColorado_ well shows the character of the Glen Canyon country, and thaton page 63 the nature of the pot-holes. ] [Footnote 21: We learned later that while we were working throughCataract Canyon, Lieutenant George M. Wheeler, U. S. Engineers, wascoming up from Fort Mohave. After great labour he reached the mouth ofDiamond Creek, See _The Romance of the Colorado_, Chapter XII. ] [Footnote 22: For further description of the Navajo costume, see _TheNorth Americans of Yesterday_, by F. S. Dellenbaugh, pp. 148, 150. ] [Footnote 23: Like all the tribes of the region of that time, theNavajos considered the Mormons a different people from the Americans. They had been at war with the Mormons, from whom they stole horses andcattle, and there had been some bloodshed. Old Jacob had induced them tomake peace, and this party now on its way to trade was the first to trythe experiment. Vanquished by our troops, a few years before, theNavajos were very poor and anxious to acquire live stock and firearms, for which they had blankets and other articles of their own make totrade. ] CHAPTER XI More Navajos Arrive with Old Jacob--The Lost Pack-train and a Famished Guide--From Boat to Broncho--On to Kanab--Winter Arrives--Wolf Neighbours too Intimate--Preparing for Geodetic Work--Over the Kaibab to Eight-mile Spring--A Frontier Town--Camp below Kanab--A Mormon Christmas Dance. At the mouth of the Paria we established ourselves for a stay of severaldays. Not only did we have the pack-train to wait for, but there weremaps to finish, boats to cache, and all manner of things to attend tobefore we could leave for the winter. Steward recovered so that he couldslowly walk around, but to balance this Jones developed inflammatoryrheumatism in both knees, but especially in the one which had beeninjured by the fall at the Junction. Though he was perfectly cheerfulabout it, he suffered excruciating pain, and was unable to move from thebed of willows which we made for him. The medicine chest was drawn onagain, and we hoped that the attack would not last long. Andy remainedwan and thin, but he insisted on sticking to his work. So liberally hadwe used our rations that we were nearing the end, and we began to lookhopefully in the direction from which we expected the pack-train toarrive. Four days passed and still there was no sign of it. We had toput ourselves on half-rations once more, and Prof. Declared that if thetrain did not soon arrive either he or I, being the only entirely wellmembers of the party, would have to walk out to Kanab and obtain relief. None of us knew anything about the trail. On the 26th Prof. And Iclimbed the cliffs back of camp to a height of two thousand feet, andhad a remarkable view similar to that from Echo Peaks. On Saturday, October 28th, in the morning we were surprised to hear from the oppositeor south side of the river an Indian yell, and looking across weperceived what appeared to be three natives, with horses, standing onthe edge of the canyon wall, here very low. We prepared one of the boatsto cross and find out what was wanted, when a fourth figure joined thegroup, and in good English came the words, "G-o-o-d m-o-r-n-i-n-g, " longdrawn out. On landing we were met by a slow-moving, very quietindividual, who said he was Jacob Hamblin. His voice was so low, hismanner so simple, his clothing so usual, that I could hardly believethat this was Utah's famous Indian-fighter and manager. With him werethree other white men, Isaac Haight, George Adair, Joe Mangum, and nineNavajos, all on their way to the Mormon settlements. They desired to beput across the river, and we willingly offered the services of ourselvesand our boats. Some of the Navajos had never before seen so large astream, and were free to express their surprise. We took on board Jacoband one or two others, and after landing them made several trips withboth boats to ferry the rest over, including all their saddles andbaggage. The Navajos were rather afraid of the boats, which to themprobably looked small and wobbly, but they all got on board with muchhilarity, except one who preferred to swim. He struck boldly out with asort of dog-paddle stroke. Having no confidence in his swimming ability, we followed closely. The water was cold; the distance greater than theNavajo had imagined. Before he was one third of the way over heconsented to be pulled into our boat and finish the passage that way. The horses were towed over, swimming behind the boats, a rope being heldby a man sitting in the stern. There was a rapid not far below, and wefeared if driven in to swim loose they might be drawn into it. One horserefused to swim or even to try, and made repeated efforts to plunge hishead under, giving us a lot of trouble, but by holding his head close tothe boat we towed him across in spite of his opposition. Without theboat he would surely have gone down the river. When everybody andeverything were safely across the hour was so late that Jacob concludedto camp with us for the night. [24] The Navajos were found to be a very jolly set of fellows, ready to takeor give any amount of chaff, and perfectly honest. They were takingblankets of their manufacture to trade for horses and sheep. Theirspirits ran high, they sang their wild songs for us, and we had theliveliest evening we had seen in many a month. Finally we joined in acircle with them, dancing and singing around the smouldering fire, whilethe chief Konéco, a noble-looking fellow, sitting at one side, with apatriarchal expression, monotonously drummed an accompaniment with awillow root on the bottom of one of the camp-kettles. When any of uswould stumble on a stick they were all convulsed with laughter. Theblankets they had were beautiful, and Jacob possessed one valued at $40, which had taken seventy days to make. After the Navajos had gone to restwe listened to some Mormon songs by Jacob's party. They left us the nextmorning, Sunday, October 29th, Prof. Obtaining from Jacob some redMexican beans to eke out our supplies; also a description of the trail. I traded a cap I happened to have to one of the Navajos for his featherplume, and a pair of shoes to one of the white men for some Mishongnuvimoccasins. Monday we took the _Dean_ across the river, and some distancedown we hauled her by means of ropes up high above the water under alarge rock, where we concealed her well. Then we made five caches nearcamp of goods not needed till next year, covering our traces by firesand other devices. Jones was so much improved that he managed to hobbleabout on a pair of crutches I had made for him out of strong willowsticks, and we felt much encouraged as to his ability to stand ridingwhen the time came to start for Kanab. On Tuesday we built a shelter back of camp for the _Nell_ and housedher there. The next day was the first of November and we thought surelythe pack-train would come, but the sun went down behind the cliffs andno one arrived. Prof. Could not understand what the trouble was, but hewent on with his observations. The next morning, as we were about to eatour bean breakfast beside the fire, we were astonished by the extremelycautious appearance through the willows, without a word of announcement, of a single, ragged, woebegone, silent old man on as skinny andtottering a pony as ever I saw. The old man was apparently muchsurprised to find himself here, and with the exclamation, "My God! Ihave found you!" he dropped to the ground. When at last he spoke he saidhis name was Mangum of Kanab, and that he had been employed to guide ourpack-train, of which Riley, one of the prospectors we had met at ElVado, was leader. "Well, where is the train?" we asked, for if he wereall that remained of it we wanted to know it soon. "Several miles backon the trail, " he said. Not having eaten a mouthful since the morningbefore it was no wonder he was weak and silent. We gave him the bestbreakfast we could command from our meagre stock and then like a spectrehe vanished on his scrawny steed up the Paria Canyon. All the day longwe watched and waited for his triumphal return with the longed-forsupplies at his back, but the sun departed without his approach and thetwilight died into that mystery which leaves the world formless againstthe night. And still we had faith in the stranger's story. Early thenext morning Prof. , Clem, and I started on his track thinking we wouldsoon meet the train. It led us up the valley of the Paria, between thegreat cliffs about three miles, and then we had another surprise, for itswung sharply to the right and climbed a steep sandy slope towards theonly apparent place where the two-thousand-foot cliffs could possibly bescaled with horses. We saw that he had followed a very old Indian trail. When we had mounted to the base of the vertical rocks we travelledzig-zagging back and forth across the face of the precipice tillpresently the trail passed through a notch out upon the plateau. From aneminence we now scanned the whole visible area without discoveringanything that apparently had not been there for several thousand years. Save the coming and going tracks of our strange visitor there wasnothing to show that any living animal had trod this place in centuries. We could see to where Prof. And I previously climbed to this sameplateau, and to-day was like yesterday and yesterday like the yearbefore last. Time and the years were as little grains of drifting sand. Leaving Clem as a sentinel on our observation point Prof. Followed theout track and told me to follow the in till three o'clock. It was nowhigh noon. I walked on and on through an arid, wonderful maze of sand, rocks, and cacti, feeling that the old horseman was no more than aphantom, when in half an hour I almost fell upon our lost pack-trainmeandering slowly and silently through a depression. I fired our signalshots and Prof. Soon joined us. The situation was precarious. Theanimals were nearly dead from thirst, one had been abandoned, and Rileywas in a state of pent-up rage that was dangerous for the spectre guide, who had nearly been the destruction of the whole outfit, for he did notknow the trail and was himself lost. Of course he blamed Riley--it washis only defence. Riley broke loose in a string of fiery oaths, declaring he would shoot "the old fool, " then and there. But receivingno encouragement from Prof. Or me he didn't. There was a third member ofthe party, Joe Hamblin, a son of Jacob, a very sturdy young fellow. Hesaid afterwards that he thought often that Riley would "sure letdaylight through the old man. " Our next care was to successfullymanoeuvre the pack-animals down the difficult trail across the face ofthe cliff, which had not seen a horse for many a year and probably neverhad been traversed by animals with packs on their backs. We had to watchthat they did not crowd each other off, but with all our exertions onefell and rolled down a few feet. He was not injured and we continued thedescent, finally reaching the bottom without so much as a scratch of anyconsequence. There, at the Paria, the horses enjoyed the first fulldrink for several days and we followed it down to camp. Riley hadstarted from Kanab October 23d and had been twelve days making a journeythat required at most only four or five by the regular trail. Mangum hadnot known the way, had led toward El Vado, and his finding the Indiantrail to the mouth of the Paria was an accident. Provisions were now plenty again, and by the light of a big fire weoverhauled the mail, finding letters, newspapers and magazines enough tosatisfy any party. Word was received from the Major to move to a placecalled House Rock Spring, and Prof. Said we would leave Camp 86 onNovember 5th, which gave us a day intervening in which to pack up. Aboutnoon of this packing day we were not surprised when two horsemen, Haightand Riggs, galloped into camp at full speed leading a lightly ladenpack-mule. They had come through in two and one half days, at top speed, by direction of Jacob, who on reaching Kanab with the Navajos learnedthat our pack-train had left long before, and he had seen nothing ofit. On the pack-mule were fifty pounds of flour and several rolls ofbutter; the first time we had seen any of this latter article since thefinal breakfast at Field's on May 22d. They were greatly relieved toknow that the train was found and that all was well. They brought newsof the burning of Chicago about a month before. In the evening IsaacHaight favoured us with some Mormon songs and recited examples of themarvellous curative effects of the Mormon "laying on of hands. " Heavyclouds had settled along the face of the cliffs and the air grew wintry. We felt the chill keenly, as we were not clad for cold weather. In themorning snow began to drop gently out of the leaden sky and continuedall day, preventing any one from starting. Soon the cliffs and EchoPeaks were white and we knew that now autumn was gone. Toward eveningthe sun flared across the rocky landscape, turning everything to gold, and we believed the next day would be fair. We were not disappointed. Monday the 6th of November came sharp and cold. Haight, Riggs, Mangum, and Joe Hamblin left early and we got under way as soon as we could. With two very sick men and a new method of travel it was not easy. Wehad to learn the art of packing on mules and horses from Riley, who wasan expert in this line and who could "sling the diamond hitch" withgreat skill. He was just as handy with a lasso and seldom missed if hewished to catch an animal, but Prof. Did not approve of the lassomethod, for it makes stock wild and unmanageable. His way was the quietone and he was right, for we soon had the entire herd so that there wasno rumpus at starting-time. With a free use of the lasso preparations tostart partake of the activity of a tornado. Steward by this time was able to walk slowly. Andy was well enough totravel on his feet, but Jones could not move at all without crutches. Wedid not have extra horses for all to ride, so Steward and Andy changedoff, while the rest of us had to walk. Jones we lifted as gently aspossible, though it was pain even to be touched in his condition, uponRiley's special horse called Doc, a well-trained, docile animal, whowalked off with him. It was after noon before the start wasaccomplished, and meanwhile I went back on the incoming trail of thelost pack-train to the foot of the steep precipice for Riley's canteen, which had been forgotten there, and when I returned all were gone butSteward, Clem, and Beaman, who had remained behind to round up a youngsteer which had been driven in with the train for us to convert intobeef at a convenient opportunity. As the advance party travelled veryslowly we soon caught them, the steer being gentle as a kitten. Thetrail followed south along the foot of the cliffs which emerged fromParia Canyon, and to which the Major had given the name of Vermilion onaccount of their rich red colour. We wound in and out of deep alcoves, around the heads of impassable lateral canyons running to the Colorado, and past enormous rocks balanced in every conceivable position onextremely slender pedestals. After about eight miles we arrived at adiminutive spring, which gave enough water for Andy to make bread andcoffee with, but none for the stock. There we camped. A few armfuls ofscraggy sage-brush furnished wood for a fire, but it was not enough tomake our invalids comfortable, and the night was cold and raw. We didall we could for them and they did not grumble. In the morning a pair of bronchos--that is, recently broken wildhorses--made the camp lively for a time, but they were subdued and thecaravan again got under way. Our next camp was to be Jacob's Pools, socalled from the fact that Jacob was the first white man to camp there. We had gone only a mile or so when we crossed in a small canyon a littlestream already enjoying two names, Clear and Spring (now called Badger)Creek, and a little farther on another called Soap Creek, still holdingthat name. [25] When first travellers enter a country they naturallybestow names on important objects, and two or three parties of white menwho had passed this way had named these two creeks. After this we had nomore water, and we pushed slowly ahead, looking for the Pools. Snowbegan to fall again in widely scattered, reluctant flakes, but melted ontouching the ground. Late in the afternoon the trail turned the cornerof the cliffs, which here broke to the west, and we saw a wide, desolateopen plain stretching away to the foot of a distant table-land, which weknew to be the Kaibab Plateau or Buckskin Mountain. None of the partyhad been over the trail before, but it was easy to follow, especiallyfor a man of Riley's experience. It was an old Navajo trail, and washere fairly well worn. The sun went down as we plodded on, the lightfaded from the west, and still we saw no Jacob's Pools. The air wasbiting, and with our thin, worn garments we felt it keenly and wishedfor a fire. At last just as the darkness began to thicken a patch ofreeds on the right between some low hills was discovered, where itseemed there might be water, and we could not well go farther. Theground was moist, and by digging a hole we secured red, muddy liquidenough for Andy to make a little bread and a cup apiece of very poorcoffee. The men and animals came straggling in out of the darkness. Wegathered a lot of sage-brush and made a fire, and as soon as Jones camewe lifted him off and put him as near the warmth as possible, for he waschilled through. There was no water for the stock, but the grass was wetand they did not suffer. Everything was damp and uncomfortable, and thefire was too small to dry anything out, so all turned in to the limitedblankets and passed a cold, half-sleepless, uncomfortable night. Morning was a relief, though the thermometer stood at 11 F. There waswater enough in the holes for breakfast, and as soon as this meal wasover the pack-train was on the move towards Jacob's Pools, which wefound not two miles farther on. There were two of them, each seven oreight feet long, supplied by fine clear water oozing out of a hill-side. The lower one we turned over to the animals, reserving the upper forourselves. We approached the plateau all day, and late in the afternoonwe were within three or four miles of it, when the right-hand cliffsturned sharply to the north in a line parallel with the plateau, forminga long narrow valley. Cedars and piñons now grew about us, so that wewere assured of a good fire. About sunset we passed two large boulderswhich had fallen together, forming a rude shelter, under which Riggs orsome one else had slept, and then had jocosely printed above withcharcoal the words "Rock House Hotel. " Afterward this had served asidentification, and Jacob and the others had spoken of "House Rock"Spring and House Rock Valley. We called it the same, and finally it wenton the maps and is now permanent. A few yards beyond the House Rock thetrail led into a gulch, at the head of which was a good spring. Plentyof cedars and piñons grew about, and we soon had a fire that compensatedfor the meagre ones of the preceding nights. The sick men became warmand dry, and we all felt much better. The whole outfit halted two days, and on the second the poor little steer, gazing sadly at us, was shotand cut up. In an hour the quarters were swinging from a tree and someof the beef was in the pan. Necessity is a sauce that makes every gristpalatable. We were hungry, and nothing could have tasted better thanthat fresh beefsteak. The entrails and refuse were left on the ground inthe neighbouring gulley where we had killed the steer, and next morningthe place was about cleaned up by the lurking wolves. Prof. Decided to go on across the Kaibab to Kanab with the two very sickmen, and leave Cap. , Clem, Andy, and me here at House Rock Spring untilthe plan for the winter's campaign had been better formulated. Stewardconcluded that his condition was too precarious to risk furtherexposure, and said he would now leave the expedition permanently, whichwe learned with deep regret, but it was plainly imperative. Jonesthought that a week or two of warmth and rest, accompanied by a changeof diet, would make him whole again and enable him to stay till the endof our special task. On Saturday, November 11th, the party started, withthe invalids riding the gentlest and easiest horses, though Stewardfound it less painful at times to walk. I accompanied them to the summitof the Kaibab to bring back one of the horses we called Thunderbolt, onwhich Jones was to be carried to the top and there change to Doc. AfterI left them I halted many times to look out into the wonderful land tothe west and north. When I got back to the spring, our Camp 3 of theland operations, we immediately set up a stout 6 by 8 tent that was inthe outfit brought from Kanab, and it made a very snug sleeping-placefor the four of us. Around the fire we rolled big stones for seats, andsoon had the gulch in a homelike condition. There was an abundance ofdead, fat piñon, which burned like a candle, and we could easily extendour reading into the evenings. From all around us there arose the frequent bay and bark of the wolves. They were of different kinds, numerous and rather bold. At night theycame in and cleared up what was left of the entrails of the steer, alsosecuring a fine, large piece of beef which Cap. Had hung in a tree, butnot high enough to escape their efforts. We took turns bringing the fourhorses left with us to water, and in that way kept ourselves informedabout them. During these trips, especially in the late afternoon, thewolves were apt to trot along near by, and on one occasion Clem wasobliged to drive one out of the trail with stones, not having his rifle. One morning, as I was riding along not far from camp, a huge whitishfellow followed behind like a dog about twenty yards back, licking hischaps. At first I thought he might be the dog of some Indian campednear, but remembering that there were none in the valley, and also thatan Indian dog, or any strange dog, would have run from me, I saw that hewas a hungry wolf unused to man. I had no rifle with me, but I took awalk over the same ground next morning with my Winchester, hoping to seemy acquaintance again, but he discreetly kept out of sight. We hadlittle now to occupy us except to examine the locality, chop wood forour fire, and read over and over the newspapers and magazines. Thenights were very cold, the spring always freezing over, but the dayswere delightful. The beef had to be jerked to preserve it. We cut it upinto thin long strips, which we strung through the ends on long withes, these in turn being hung on a framework that left the strips swingingwithin two or three feet of a slow fire. One hour's neglect of thistempting array would have seen it vanish to the four winds, so we kept aconstant watch day and night, taking turns through the dark hours. Every article which had grease or leather about it had to be carefullyput away to prevent its disappearance. Riley had lost his spurs on theway out from this cause, the leather on them making sweet morsels forthe watchers. Cap. Concluded to profit by this appetite, and in an adjoining gulch hebuilt a trap between two rocks, in which he set his Remingtonsix-shooter, so that a wolf picking up a scrap of beef would pull thetrigger by a string and receive the ball in his head. That night duringmy watch over the beef I roasted a piece on a stick for a lunch, and asthe savory odour drifted off on the crisp winter air howl after howl ofravenous desire rang out from many directions, followed by the bang ofthe revolver in the trap. Cap. Went over, but found no game, thoughlater he often came back with a fine large specimen, bearing a perfectcoat of fur, which Cap. Always removed by the firelight at once. Aboutevery night except Sunday, when Cap. Refused to set the trap--for henever did any work on that day that was not absolutely necessary--therewas a fatal shot, and he accumulated a lot of excellent large skins, which he tacked on trees to preserve them. He thought he had put them upsecurely high, but one morning every skin had disappeared. The wolfrelatives had carried them away to the last shred. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From Havasupai Point, South Rim, Showing Inner Gorge. From a sketch in colour by F. S. Dellenbaugh, 1907. ] The Kaibab was too far away for us to go there to hunt deer, and therewere none around the spring, though one night at supper-time, thewestern sky being a broad sweep of deep orange, we saw a large wildanimal of some sort on the crest of the hill silhouetted against thecolour. I started for it with my rifle, but of course it did not wait;no animal ever does if he can help it, unless he is carnivorous andfamished. The weather remained generally fair, though one day we had awild gale that nearly relieved us of the tent in the midst of thickflurries of snow. We often climbed among the cliffs, and everywhere wefound picture-writings, poles laid up, stepping-stones, fragments ofpottery, arrowheads, and other evidences of former occupation. The polesand stones may have been placed by the Pai Utes as well as by the oldShinumos, who once were numerous over all this country. Cap. Was by nomeans well. An extreme nervousness connected with the old gunshot wounddeveloped, and he said he felt sure he could not continue the work inthe field during the winter, much less go through the Grand Canyon withus the next year. Clem also felt under the weather, and besides wasgrowing homesick. He confided to me one day that he also had concludednot to remain with us. As there was little the matter with him Iundertook to argue him out of his determination not to go through theGrand Canyon, pointing out the disappointment he would feel when we hadaccomplished the passage and he realised that he might as well have comealong. This produced some impression, but I was uncertain as to itslasting result. By November 17th we began with confidence to look for some one to comeover the mountains from Kanab, and just after sunset we heard Riley'slong shrill "ee--ii--oooooooo, " which he could deliver upon the air insuch a fashion that it carried for miles. Presently Prof. And he rodeinto our camp with fresh supplies and a great bundle of mail thatincluded papers giving the details of the burning of Chicago. Prof. WithCap. Then reconnoitred the neighbourhood, and on the 21st he returned toKanab, leaving us as before, except that Riley remained two days longer. The Major had not yet arrived at Kanab from Salt Lake and our winterwork could not begin till he came. The days rolled by with occasionalrain and snow and we began to grow impatient with our inaction, especially when November passed away. The second day of December wasfading when we distinguished in the distance the familiar Riley yell, and in a little while he came into view with welcome news. We were tomove at once to a spring eight miles from Kanab. He also brought someapples, native raisins and a large canteen full of fresh wine from"Dixie" as the country along the Virgin was called. These luxuriestogether with a number of letters from home made that night one of themost cheerful we had known for a long time. Monday morning, December 4thwe left House Rock Spring behind with our pack-train, followed the trailacross the open valley, climbed two thousand feet to the top of theKaibab, and were soon traversing the forest on its broad summit. Rileyhaving been over the trail now several times we went ahead steadily, andabout sunset arrived at the farther side of a narrow longitudinaldepression of the top which Cap. Immediately put down in his notes asSummit Valley, a name that holds to-day. There we threw off our packsand made camp for the night. Though there was no water the ground wascovered by a thin layer of snow, that made the long bunch grasspalatable to the horses and for ourselves we had sufficient water in twosmall kegs and several canteens. A bright fire blazed cheerfully, thedense cedars broke the wind, and everybody felt that it was a fine camp. The others spent the evening playing euchre by firelight, but Ipreferred to read till bedtime. The next morning, after crossing some rough gulches, we came to thewestern edge of the great plateau, and emerging from the forest of pineand cedar we saw again the magnificent, kaleidoscopic, cliff countrylying to the north. First about twenty miles away was a line of lowchocolate-coloured cliffs, then a few miles back of this the splendidline of the Vermilion Cliffs, the same which began at the mouth of GlenCanyon and which we had skirted to House Rock Spring. From there theline continued northward till it passed around the north end of theKaibab, when it struck southwesterly far to our left, where it turnedback to the north again, forming one of the longest and finest cliffranges anywhere to be seen. Above them and some miles still fartherback, rising higher, was a line of greyish cliffs following the trend ofthe Vermilion, and still above these was the broken meandering face ofthe Pink Cliffs, frosted with snow, whose crest marks the southeasternlimit of Fremont's "Great Basin, " the end of the High Plateaus, and topsthe country at an altitude of some 11, 000 feet above sea-level. A moreextraordinary, bewildering landscape, both as to form and colour, couldhardly be found in all the world. Winding our way down to the barrenvalley, in itself more a high plateau than a valley, we travelled therest of the day in the direction of the great cliffs. The sun was justgone when we reached the first low line, and passing through a gapturned into a side gulch thickly studded with cedars, where we sawbefore us two white-covered waggons, two or three camp-fires blazing, and friends. We heard a hearty voice cry, "Tirtaan Aigles dis wai!" andwe sprang from our horses to grasp Jack's welcoming hand and greet allthe others, some of whom were new acquaintances. The fragrance of coffeeand frying bacon filled the sharp air, while from the summits of thesurrounding cliffs the hungry chorus of yelping wolves sent up theirwail of disappointment. In an alcove a large tent had been put up, which the Major's family wasoccupying, for Mrs. Powell and her baby daughter had come from Salt Lakewith him, arriving a few days before. The daughter was but three monthsold and was happy in a big clothes-basket for a cradle. Mrs. Thompson, Prof. 's wife, and sister of the Major, had also come from Salt Lake andanother large tent sheltered them, while still another of equal size, not yet erected, was designed for the men. It was a speciallyinteresting camp to us who had come over from House Rock for it wasnovel to see so many people around. The Major himself was absent atKanab. Before the camp was asleep the hour was late, and so soundly didevery one rest that the sneaking wolves without the least molestationcarried off two large sacks of the jerked beef from near our heads, where we had put it against a huge rock thinking they would not come soclose; but as they had pulled a ham the night before from under the headof Captain Dodds where he had placed it for safety, we ought to havebeen more sensible. Two or three nights later, as I was sleeping in aspecial bed one of the men then absent had made by a big rock some yardsfrom the main camp, I was awakened by a wolf crunching bones by the firenot eight feet from my head. I wanted to shoot the impertinent wretch, but his form was indistinct and my rifle lying by my side had to betrained his way. This took some time, as I had to move cautiously, andin the midst of my effort my elbow slipped. Like a shadow he flittedinto the deeper gloom and I went to sleep again. I did not want toshoot without certainty, though some nights later I did shoot withRiley's huge double-barrelled shotgun loaded with buckshot straight intoour mess kit, not killing the wolf that was there, but putting holes innumerous tin plates through which bean soup delighted to percolate, sothat I never heard the last of this midnight effort of mine to diminishthe wolf family. The day following our arrival the Major came from Kanab and the plansfor our winter's campaign were put in operation. A base line for ourgeographic work was necessary and this was to run south from Kanab, soProf. On December 7th, with Mrs. Thompson, Cap. , Clem, Andy, Jones (whohad recovered his health), and one of the new men named MacEntee, leftus with loaded waggons to establish another camp nearer to the scene ofthis work. Another member of the party was Fuzz, Mrs. Thompson's dog, anintelligent Dandie Dinmont. As I was much interested to see Kanab, ofwhich so much had been said, and as it was now nearly seven months sinceI had seen an occupied house, I decided to take a Sunday ride in thatdirection. On the 17th, about noon, I put a saddle on a white mule whichJack had named Nigger and was soon on my way. Emerging from theChocolate Cliffs the road led along the foot of the Vermilion Cliffs, crossing long ridges covered with cedars and piñons with a vast view tothe Kaibab on the south and east, and soon joining a road that led froma canyon to eastward where there was a very small settlement calledJohnson's, and from two or three houses which had been built where theEl Vado trail crossed the Paria River. Nigger went along very well and Iwas in Kanab by three o'clock. The village, which had been started onlya year or two, was laid out in the characteristic Mormon style with widestreets and regular lots fenced by wattling willows between stakes. Irrigating ditches ran down each side of every street and from them thewater, derived from a creek that came down a canyon back of the town, could be led into any of the lots, each of which was about one quarterof an acre; that is, there were four lots to a block. Fruit trees, shadetrees, and vines had been planted and were already beginning to promisenear results, while corn, potatoes, etc. , gave fine crops. The originalplace of settlement was a square formed by one-story log houses on threesides and a stockade on the fourth. This was called the fort and was aplace of refuge, though the danger from Navajo attack seemed to be overand that from any assault by the Pai Utes certainly was past. One cornerof the fort was made by the walls of the schoolhouse, which was at thesame time meeting-house and ball-room. Altogether there were about 100families in the village. The houses that had been built outside the fortwere quite substantially constructed, some of adobe or sun-dried brick. The entire settlement had a thrifty air, as is the case with theMormons. Not a grog-shop, or gambling saloon, or dance-hall was to beseen; quite in contrast with the usual disgraceful accompaniments of theordinary frontier towns. A perfectly orderly government existed, headedby a bishop appointed by the church authorities in Salt Lake, the thenincumbent of this office being an excellent man, Bishop Stewart. I rodeto the fort, where I found Clem and Beaman domiciled with theirphotographic outfit, with a swarm of children peeping through everychink and crevice of the logs to get a view of the "Gentiles, " a kind ofanimal they had seldom seen. Every one was cordial. Beaman even offeredme a drink made with sugar-water and photographic alcohol, but it didnot appeal to my taste. It was after sunset when I started Niggertowards Eight Mile Spring and I enjoyed the ride in the edge of nightwith not a living thing, besides Nigger (and Nigger was a mule), todisturb my reveries. I had as yet seen none of the natives of the locality. They were nowvery friendly and considered harmless, thanks to Jacob's wisemanagement. The only Indians the settlers dreaded were some renegades, aband of Utes and Navajos, collected by a bold and skillful chief namedPatnish, whose "country" was south of the Colorado around NavajoMountain. He was reputed to be highly dangerous, and the Kanab peoplewere constantly prepared against his unwelcome visits. He had severalhandsome stalwart sons, who dressed in white and who generallyaccompanied him. Though Patnish was so much feared, I do not remember tohave heard that he committed any depredations after this time. There hadbeen much trouble with the Navajos, but Jacob, growing tired of theconstant warfare, had resolved to go to them and see if he could notchange the state of affairs. When he had guided the Major to the MokiTowns and Fort Defiance the year before (1870), about six thousandNavajos were assembled at the Agency. The chiefs were invited to meet incouncil on the 2d of November, and all the principal chiefs but one andall subchiefs but two were there. The Major led the way by introducingJacob and speaking in highly complimentary terms of the Mormons; andJacob then gave a long talk in his low-voiced way, illustrating thegreat evils of such warfare as had existed, and closed by saying: "What shall I tell my people the 'Mormons' when I return home? That we may expect to live in peace, live as friends, and trade with one another? Or shall we look for you to come prowling around our weak settlements, like wolves in the night? I hope we may live in peace in time to come. I have now grey hairs on my head, and from my boyhood I have been on the frontiers doing all I could to preserve peace between white men and Indians. I despise this killing, this shedding of blood. I hope you will stop this and come and visit and trade with our people. We would like to hear what you have got to say before we go home. " Barbenceta, the principal chief, slowly approached as Jacob ended, andputting his arms around him said: "My friend and brother, I will do allthat I can to bring about what you have advised. We will not give allour answer now. Many of the Navajos are here. We will talk to themto-night and will see you on your way home. " Several days later Jacobmet him and the chiefs who had been absent; he said they would allreally like to see peace with the Mormons carried out, and continued: "We have some bad men among us, but if some do wrong, the wise ones must not act foolishly, like children, but let it be settled according to the spirit of your talk at Fort Defiance. Here is Hastele. I wish you would take a good look at him, so you will not be mistaken in the man. He never lies or steals. He is a truthful man; we wish all difficult matters settled before him. He lives on the frontier nearest to the river; you can find him by inquiry. We hope we may be able to eat at one table, warm by one fire, smoke one pipe, and sleep under one blanket. " [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From South Rim near Bright Angel Creek. ] Jacob proceeded towards home, taking a Moki, named Tuba, and his wifeback with him, so that they might see the Mormon country. Arriving atthe crossing of the Colorado Tuba was sad. He said his people had oncelived on the other side, and their fathers had told them they neveragain would go west of the river to live. "I am now going on a visit tosee my friends. I have worshipped the Father of us all in the way youbelieve to be right; now I wish you would do as the Hopees think isright before we cross. " Jacob assented, and Tuba, he said, "then took his medicine bag from under his shirt and offered me a little of its contents. I offered my left hand to take it; he requested me to take it with my right. He then knelt with his face to the east, and asked the Great Father of us all to preserve us in crossing the river. He said that he and his wife had left many friends at home, and if they never lived to return their friends would weep much. He prayed for pity upon his friends the Mormons, that none of them might drown in crossing; and that all the animals we had with us might be spared, for we needed them all, and to preserve unto us all our food and clothing, that we need not suffer hunger nor cold on our journey. He then arose to his feet. We scattered the ingredients from the medicine bag into the air, on to the land, and into the water of the river. " When they were all safely over Tuba gave thanks that his prayer had beenanswered. [26] The last white men to be killed by the Navajos in the Kanab region wereDr. Whitmore and his herder at Pipe Springs, twenty miles west, fiveyears before in the winter of 1865-66. The raiders were pursued by astrong party, and some of them, turning down the Kanab Canyon, perhapsthinking the river could be crossed there, were surprised and fired onat dawn. Some escaped, though wounded. Jacob kept a close watch on allthe passes, and especially at El Vado. Several raiders were interceptedand shot. In 1869 a raiding band successfully drove off twelve hundredhead of horses and cattle from northern settlements, and the winter of1869-70 was one of the worst, requiring Jacob's presence in the fieldalmost constantly. He was accompanied by friendly Pai Utes, who hatedthe Navajos. One Navajo was shot in a band who had stolen cattle, butthe others were allowed to leave on giving up the stock. The shot didnot kill the Navajo, and they followed to see what became of him. He wascarried along by his friends to where another raiding party wasencamped. The Pai Utes then killed two of this party, scalping one, butrefraining from taking the scalp of the other because he had sandy hairand looked too much like a white man. Later three more Navajos werekilled in a fight, but the rest escaped with ten horses. Jacob grewheartily sick of this kind of work, and made the resolve to appeal tothe Navajos, with the result stated. He also visited the Red Lake Utesto the north, and all the Indians along the Sevier. Beginning with theband of Navajos under Agua Grande, which we had met at El Vado, theycame north in numerous parties with perfect confidence that the Mormonswould receive them peacefully. But they continued to despise the PaiUtes, considering them beneath notice. In September of the year 1870 the Major, by Brigham Young's advice, hadengaged Jacob to go with him to Mt. Trumbull in the Uinkaret regionadjoining the Shewits country. Jacob, wishing to see these Indianshimself, was very willing to go. They made a camp by a spring, andfinding some natives near, Jacob asked them to bring in some of theparty who had taken part in the killing of the Howlands and Dunn theyear before. Twelve or fifteen finally came, and they had a talk. "I commenced [said Jacob] by explaining to the Indians Professor Powell's business. I endeavoured to get them to understand that he did not visit their country for any purpose that would work evil to them, that he was not hunting gold or silver or other metals; that he would be along the river next season with a party of men, and if they found any of them away from the river in the hills, they must be their friends and show them places where there was water if necessary. " They replied that friends of theirs from across the river had declaredthe men were miners and advised killing them, for if they found mines itwould bring great evil among them. The men were followed and killedwhile asleep. They declared that had they been correctly informed aboutthe men they would not have killed them. Kapurats ("No-arm, " meaning theMajor), they said, could travel and sleep in their country unmolestedand they would show him and his men the watering-places. [27] On December 19th we moved our camp from Eight Mile Spring to a placebelow the gap in the Chocolate Cliffs south of Kanab and not far belowthe Utah-Arizona boundary; the 37th parallel. Bonnemort and I remainedbehind to gather up the last articles and it was dark when we reachedthe new ground. Our large tent was pitched in the creek bottom with theothers not far off, making quite a settlement. The weather was rainy andcold, but a conical sheet-iron stove heated the tent well and there wehad dry comfortable evenings, some of the men singing, some writingletters or plotting notes, others reading and still others perhapsplaying a game. Bonnemort was something of a singer and was speciallyfond of _Beautiful Isle of the Sea_, but Jack still maintained hiscomplete supremacy as a tenor. His repertory always increased and he wasever ready to entertain us. One of his selections I remember was theballad: "I wandered by the brookside, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still, There was no burr of grasshopper No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. " Mrs. Thompson had a sweet voice and knew a lot of songs, which werefrequently heard issuing from her tent, and this, with the presence ofMrs. Powell and the baby, added to the locality a pleasant homelike air. Both Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Powell had been familiar with camp life, Mrs. Powell having spent a winter, 1868-69, with the Major in MiddlePark, Colorado, near the camp of Chief Douglas, the father of our friendDouglas Boy. Andy cooked all the meals on a fire out of doors, and they were nolonger served in our "go fur it boys" canyon style, but a large canvas, showing by its colour the effects of exposure, was elegantly spread onthe ground and around its edges the tin plates, cups, etc. , werearranged, with the beanpot and other provender in the middle. Thismethod continued henceforth. The company would sit around on the ground, each in whatever position was comfortable. Liberal portions of bread andsorghum molasses formed the dessert, and after a while so indispensabledid the sorghum grow that we dubbed it the "staff of life. " It was easyto get, quantities being produced in "Dixie. " Kanab besides beingfavoured with two mails a week had a telegraph line connecting with thesettlements of the Virgin region and with Salt Lake, and we now feltthat once more we had a grip on the world. On the 22d of December the Major, accompanied by Captain Dodds, Riley, and one of the Kanab men, John Stewart, a son of the bishop, started forthe Kaibab to find a way to get rations to the Colorado next year nearthe mouth of the Little Colorado. The weather now was rather stormy butProf. Continued his observations as well as he could, and parties weresent out in a number of directions to place flags and monuments for thegeodetic work. The base line was to be measured south from near Kanabfor about ten miles. Christmas day came with rain and small prospect ofspecial enjoyment, and we all kept the shelter of the tent after huntingup the horses in mud ankle-deep. But our dinner was a royal feast, forMrs. Thompson herself made a huge plum-pudding and Prof. Supplied butterand milk from Kanab, making this feature of the holiday an immensesuccess. In the evening a number of us rode up to the settlement towitness a dance that had been announced to take place in theschoolhouse, tabernacle, or town hall--the stone building in the cornerof the fort which answered all these functions. The room was about 15 by30 feet and was lighted by three candles, a kerosene lamp, and a blazingfire of pitch pine. Two violins were in lively operation, one beingplayed by Lyman Hamblin, a son of Old Jacob, and there was a refreshingair of decorous gaiety about the whole assemblage. Dancing is a regularamusement among the Mormons and is encouraged by the authorities as aharmless and beneficial recreation. At that time the dances were alwaysopened with prayer. Two sets could occupy the floor at one time and toeven things up, and prevent any one being left out, each man on enteringwas given a number, the numbers being called in rotation. None of ourparty joined as we were such strangers, but we were made welcome inevery respect. It was ten o'clock before we left, and the way being dimand muddy, midnight was on before we threw off saddles at our camp. The next morning work was begun on the base line, but for some days theweather was so bad that little was accomplished. The year 1871 ended inthis way and we hoped the new one would be more propitious. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 24: Five years later Jacob came near being drowned in crossinghere. Lorenzo W. Roundy was lost, as well as two waggons loaded withsupplies. The scow they had tried to use tilted, throwing everythinginto the fierce torrent. ] [Footnote 25: It was in the rapid in Marble Canyon near the mouth of thecanyon of this creek that Frank M. Brown was drowned in July, 1889. ] [Footnote 26: _Jacob Hamblin_, a Narrative, etc. Faith-promotingSeries--Juvenile Instructor Office, Salt Lake City--1881. ] [Footnote 27: In 1864 the danger from the Pai Utes, who had not beenwell treated, increased till Jacob had to take the matter in hand andmade a visit to the place where they were gathering for attack. He wasasked how many men he wanted to go with him, and he answered, "One, andno arms; not even a knife in sight. "] CHAPTER XII Reconnoitring and Triangulating--A Pai Ute New Year's Dance--The Major Goes to Salt Lake--Snowy Days on the Kaibab--At Pipe Spring--Gold Hunters to the Colorado--Visits to the Uinkaret Country--Craters and Lava--Finding the Hurricane Ledge--An Interview with a Cougar--Back to Kanab. New-year's day, 1872, passed with nothing more eventful than the returnof John Stewart in advance of the Major with the news that they hadsucceeded in reaching the Colorado at the foot of Kanab Canyon. They hadgiven up the Kaibab direction because of snow which interfered withtheir advance. He also said that Riley had found gold at the mouth ofthe Kanab. The telegraph operator was so deeply impressed with thisstatement that it was telegraphed as an item of news to Salt Lake. Workon the base line went on daily by our topographical staff, but presentlyit was turned over to a special gang under Captain Dodds, so that therest of us might be freed to carry on the triangulation. On Monday the15th, Prof. , Jones, Mac, and I started with some pack animals on a tendays' reconnaissance trip over the Kaibab, first going to Kanab for somesupplies and taking dinner with Jacob at the house of his wife Louisa. According to the Mormon custom, though it was not universal, Jacob hadseveral wives, I do not know how many. I met two, and he was besidesthat "sealed" to one or two Pai Ute women. Sister Louisa was the one Icame to know best and she was a good woman. We had an excellent dinnerwith rich cream for the coffee which was an unusual treat. In all Mormonsettlements the domestic animals were incorporated at once and theyreceived special care; butter, milk, and cheese were consequentlyabundant; but in a "Gentile" frontier town all milk, if procurable atall, was drawn from a sealed tin. The same was true of vegetables. Theempty tin was the chief decoration of such advance settlements, and withthe entire absence of any attempt at arrangement, at order, or to startfruit or shade trees, or do any other sensible thing, the "Gentile"frontier town was a ghastly hodge-podge of shacks in the midst of a seaof refuse. As pioneers the Mormons were superior to any class I haveever come in contact with, their idea being home-making and not skimmingthe cream off the country with a six-shooter and a whiskey bottle. Jacob's home was simple but it was comfortable. He was a poor man for hedid his work for the people with very slight compensation. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From Part Way down South Side above Bright Angel Creek. ] From Jacob's we proceeded to our old camp ground at Eight-Mile Springand there spent the night. Prof. Had forgotten his sextant and rode backto our main camp for it. We continued in the morning without him to aplace farther east called Navajo Well, a deep spring in a sort ofnatural hole, somewhat aided by native hands, in the midst of somesloping, barren rocks, the last spot where one would look for water. Alarge flat stone covered the top, the water being dipped out at one sidewhere there was a depression leading down to it. A careless man, or onenot familiar with the country, might ride within a few yards of thisspring without noticing its existence. Prof. Came along towards nightand the next day we went on eastward to the top of the Kaibab Plateauand there put up a geodetic monument. Here we made a dry camp havingwater for ourselves in a keg and some canteens, while the animals gotalong very well as there was a little snow on the ground. Proceedingfrom this place eastward we came to the edge of the plateau oppositethe largest of a series of four or five peculiar red sandstone peaks. The Mormons had explored a waggon road across at this place and thegrades were easy. We followed the road and reached House Rock Valleyabout ten miles north of House Rock Spring where we went to get waterand camp. We had started late and by the time we got down into thevalley darkness had fallen but a bright moon compensated for the absenceof daylight, enabling us to see plainly our landmarks. We jogged alongtoward the spring and I sang _Oh the Lone Starry Hours, Give Me Love_, when I was suddenly interrupted by old Thunderbolt's pack loosening. Thunderbolt was a horse that waited for such an event with remarkabledocility and when it arrived he made the best of the opportunity to geteven with us for drawing the lash-rope so tight. Before I could dismountand lay hands on him the pack slipped back over his rump which was thesignal he watched for. Joyously flinging his heels in the moonlit air, jumping high off the ground the next instant, and then darting off intothe misty night with a clatter and a whirl he spread the contents ofthat pack to all points of the compass. This revenge adequatelyaccomplished we were permitted to catch him. A long search was necessarybefore we had gathered up all the things and replaced the pack on thenow meek and patient Thunderbolt, and half-past eight by the watcharrived as we got to water and supper. We put up another "station" back of House Rock Spring and spent a dayreconnoitring. On Sunday, January 21st, we went to Red Cliff and made acamp under some cedars, as we wished to put a station on the highestpeak. The camp was a dry one, but we had the usual supply of water inthe keg and canteens, and as the temperature was very low we did not getthirsty. There was an abundance of wood for the camp, but Mac and Iconcluded we wanted more warmth and light, so we set fire to two largecedars that stood alone, and they made a superb illumination, burningall night. In the morning we got to the top of the cliff, and built amonument, with a high pole and flag, to which to "sight" from othergeodetic points, while Prof. Took observations for time and latitude. When our work was finished we went back to House Rock Spring, arrivingjust before sunset. In the morning Jones and I went across and climbedthe Kaibab, intending to put up a monument there, but we could find noproper site and returned to camp. Prof. And Mac had been off in anotherdirection, but they got in just before supper-time. We had notfinished this meal when, night having come on, we heard through thedarkness sounds of some one approaching, and thirteen Navajos one afterthe other came into the light of our fire, with their greeting of "Buenoheh!" and camped just below us. Some were mounted, some were on foot. The chief was Ashtishkal, whom we had met before at the Crossing of theFathers (El Vado). They were all friendly, and did not intrude upon us. They were on their way north to trade with the Mormons, having comeacross at the Paria. The night was very cold, and a heavy, dry snowbegan to fall, so that in the morning when we arose we could see but ashort distance. The Navajos about sunrise stood silently in a circletill at a signal they all sat down and began singing, continuing forseveral minutes a low musical refrain, and then all rose to their feetagain. They left us early, with friendly demonstrations, and went ontheir way towards Kanab, while we moved to another spring in a gulchfarther up the valley, where we made a tent out of a pair of blankets tokeep off the snow. During the stormy night our animals started to leaveus, travelling before the wind, but we suspected their intention and gotout and headed them back, much to their disgust, no doubt. Thursday, January 25th, came bright and clear, but still extremely cold. Prof. With Mac started across the Kaibab by the trail, while Jones and I wentfarther north by the waggon road referred to, camping near the stationwe had made on the way out. The next morning we did some work there, andthen went on to the Navajo Well, reaching it at sunset, where we wateredour stock and continued by moonlight through a piercing wind toEight-Mile Spring, which enabled us to reach our main camp in time fordinner on Saturday the 27th. Prof. Got back the evening before at 7. 30, having made another station on the Kaibab on the way over and travelledtwenty-five miles. About a mile from Kanab the Kaibab band of Pai Utes were encamped, andwe had a good opportunity to visit them and study their ways. [28] TheMajor was specially interested and made voluminous notes. They came tothe village and our camp a great deal. While they were dirty, they werenot more dishonest than white men, so far as I could learn. Theirwickiups, about seven feet high, were merely a lot of cedar boughs, setaround a three-quarter circle, forming a conical shelter, the openingtowards the south. In front they had their fire, with a mealing-stone ortwo, and round about were their conical and other baskets, used forcollecting grass seeds, piñon nuts, and similar vegetable food, which inaddition to rabbits formed their principal subsistence. At certain timesthey all went to the Kaibab deer-hunting. Their guns, where they hadany, were of the old muzzle-loading type, with outside hammers to firethe caps. Many still used the bow-and-arrow, and some knew how to makestone arrow-heads. We learned the process, which is not difficult. Theirclothing was, to some extent, deerskin, but mainly old clothes obtainedfrom the whites. They made a very warm robe out of rabbit skins, twistedinto a long rope and then sewed side to side into the desired size andshape. But when we traded for one of these as a curiosity we placed itbeside a large ant hill for some days before bringing it into camp. Theyobtained fire by the use of matches when they could get them, butotherwise they used the single stick or "palm" drill. We went to thecamp one moonlight night, January 6th, to see a sort of New-Year'sdance. They had stripped a cedar tree of all branches but a small tuftat the top, and around this the whole band formed a large circle, dancing and singing. The dancing was the usual hippity-hop or "lope"sideways, each holding hands with his or her neighbours. In the centrestood a man, seeming to be the custodian of the songs and a poethimself. He would first recite the piece, and then all would sing it, circling round at the same time. We accepted their cordial invitation tojoin in the ceremony, and had a lot of fun out of our efforts, whichgreatly amused them too, our mistakes raising shouts of laughter. Thepoet seemed to originate some of the songs, but they had others thatwere handed down. One of these, which I learned later, was: "Montee-ree-ai-ma, mo-quontee-kai-ma Umpa-shu-shu-ra-ga-va Umpa-shu-shu-ra-ga-va Umpa-ga-va, shu-ra-ga-va Montee-ree-ai-ma. " This, being translated, signifies that a long talk is enough to bore ahole in a cliff; at least, that was the interpretation we obtained. Another popular one was: "Ca, shakum, poo kai Ca, shakum poo kai Ca, shakum tee kai Ca, shakum tee kai, " these lines being repeated like the others over and over and over again. They were highly philosophical, for they explain that you must kill yourrabbit (shakum) before you eat him. I do not remember that they sangthese particular songs on that occasion, but they will serve asexamples. On February 1st the Major left camp for Salt Lake with Mrs. Powell andthe baby. Jack went along to accompany them as far as Tokerville on theVirgin River. Before leaving, the Major settled up with Beaman, who wasnow to separate from the party. The Major intended to go to Washingtonto ask Congress for another appropriation to continue the work ofexploration and map-making when we had finished that already planned. Onthe 6th Clem and Bonnemort arrived from an expedition to makephotographs down the Kanab Canyon, where the Major had been with Rileyand Dodds. They had met with bad luck, and did not get a singlenegative. The silver bath got out of order, and the horse bearing thecamera fell off a cliff and landed on top of the camera, which had beentied on the outside of the pack, with a result that need not bedescribed. Bonnemort's time was now up; he wanted to go back toprospecting, and we reluctantly said good-bye to him. On the 16th ofFebruary, finding our central camp no longer practicable, we abandonedit and operated in small parties from various nearby points, finallyreturning again in three or four days to near the site of the old camp. MacEntee then wanted to go to prospecting also, and he departed. He wasan interesting, companionable young man, educated at the University ofMichigan, seeking a fortune, and he was desirous of striking it rich. Whether he ever did or not I have not learned. While camped below Kanab, Clem and I in walking one day saw a placewhere the creek which flowed on a level with the surroundings suddenlyplunged into a deep mud canyon. This canyon had been cut back from farbelow by the undermining action of the falling water, and it was plainto see that it would continue its retrogression till it eventuallyreached the mouth of the great canyon several miles above, but I did notdream that it could accomplish this work as rapidly as it actually didyears after. During a great flood it washed a canyon not only to Kanabbut for miles up the gorge, sweeping away at one master stroke hundredsof acres of arable land and leaving a mud chasm forty feet deep. Had thefall we examined been arranged then so that the water might glide down, the fearful washout would not have occurred. There are thousands ofplaces in the West to-day that require treatment to conserve arableland, and in time the task may be undertaken by the Government. Cap's health being such that he deemed it inadvisable to continue workin the field, he had severed his connection with the expedition, afterfinishing the preliminary map of Green River, and was temporarilysettled in Kanab, where he had been for some time. On Wednesday, February 21st, Prof. , Mrs. Thompson, and I took supper with him in oneof the log houses at the fort, and on the 22d several of us accepted hisinvitation to dinner, a sort of farewell, for on the following day westarted with our whole outfit for the Kaibab. We were extremely sorry tolose Cap, with his generous spirit and cheery ways, but when one hasbeen punctured by a minie-ball he has to heed warnings. All day long wetravelled through sandy hills gradually rising toward the plateau, thefoot-hills of which we reached late in the afternoon. We had followed awaggon road with our pack-train up to this point, but here we struck offon a trail that was said to be a shorter way to the canyon we wereaiming for, and a little before sunset we came to the brink of a steepslope, almost a cliff, where a picturesque, a romantic view openedbefore us. Below stretched away to the south a narrow, deep, and sharplydefined valley or canyon one-eighth mile wide, the bottom of whichseemed perfectly flat. A light snow which had fallen the night beforewhitened the sharp slopes, but from the valley bottom it had meltedaway, leaving a clear line of demarkation on either side and producingan extremely beautiful effect under the evening glow. Tall pine treesaccented the scene, which was one of the most inviting I had everbeheld. One of our helpers from Kanab had been over the trail, and ledus down to a small but excellent spring, within a quarter of a mile ofwhich we camped, passing a most comfortable night. Before we had finished slinging the last pack in the morning, a heavygrey sky began to sift down thickly falling snowflakes gently as if notwishing to give alarm. But when we were fairly under way this mildnessvanished, and the storm smote our caravan with fierce and blindinggusts, amidst which progress was difficult. After four miles up thevalley through beautiful pine trees of great height, we came to adeserted log cabin only half roofed over, and there we stopped to makeour temporary headquarters. The Stewarts of Kanab had started a saw-millat this place, but as yet the work had not gone very far. The snowceased by the time we had thrown off the packs, and we made ourselves ascomfortable as circumstances permitted. Prof. Had a tent put up for Mrs. Thompson, while some took possession of the half-roofed house, for bykeeping on the side where the board cover was they were slightlysheltered. With two or three of the others I pitched a small tent. Therewas plenty of fat pine, and rousing fires made the valley seemhabitable. A fine little brook swept full grown fifteen inches indiameter from under a cliff two hundred feet above the valley bottom, and there was no lack of good water. Our trouble was with the horses andmules, for we had no grain for them, and if the snow got very deep theywould not be able to paw down to the bunch grass. The snow soon beganagain, and all night it fell with aggravating facility. Sunday morningopened as leaden and dark as a February day could be, and there was nocessation of the showers of whiteness that were rapidly building up onthe ground a formidable barrier to our operations. As I was wearingrather low brogans, having discarded top-boots as too close-fitting anduncomfortable around camp, I now made for myself a pair of leggins outof pieces of a common but heavy seamless sack. When these were buttonedin place they answered perfectly to protect my legs from the snow. Wehoped Monday would begin the week with a clear sky, but we weredisappointed. We had to sally out to hunt horses, hoping at the sametime to come across a deer, but that hope was not realised. As I got farfrom camp in the midst of the tall pines and the unbroken snow sheet, Isuddenly became aware of a whispering sound, which I could not at firstaccount for, as I did not believe in fairies. Standing perfectly still, I perceived that it was produced by the friction of the snowflakes uponthe pine needles. It was a weird, ghost-like language which I had neverlistened to before. Prof. Went up one thousand feet on the mountain and climbed a tree 125feet high with a determination to see something in spite of the snow. Hecaught a glimpse of the south wall of the Grand Canyon near Mt. Trumbull, miles to the west. On Tuesday he started George Adair, one ofour Mormon assistants, back to Kanab for more rations, and directedJones and Captain Dodds to get ready to start the next day for thesouth-east corner of the plateau, while Andy and I were to go to thesouth-west corner. Wednesday, February 28th, came clear, with the snowlying twelve inches on the level, but some of the horses were missing, and the day was spent in hunting this wayward stock, so it was not tillThursday afternoon that we got started. Our paths lying for a distancein the same direction, we four travelled together along a divide on theright or west of camp. It was slow work in the deep drifts, and we hadnot made many miles when night came on. We went into camp where we were. The horses bothered us by trying to go back searching for grass, andnobody could blame them. Finally we tied the worst offender to a tree ina bare place where he might pick up a few mouthfuls of food, and wemanaged to sleep the rest of the night. The only sound I heard when Iwoke up at one time was the satirical voice of an owl in the fardistance. It seemed to be saying very deliberately "poo-poo, poo-poo, "and that did not sound respectful. The next morning was March 1st, andit brought a fine sky, which would have put us quickly on the way, orrather in motion toward our respective goals, as there was no road ortrail, but one of our animals which bore the mysterious name of Yawger, and which was the pack-horse of Andy and me, could not be found. Jonesand Dodds went on, as they would probably soon have to separate from usanyhow, while we took Yawger's track, and at last found him browsinghappily in a bare spot about a mile from our stopping place. It was twoo'clock by the time we started on, floundering through the drifts in thetrail of Jones and Dodds. Some drifts were so high it was all we coulddo to wallow through them even after the others had in a measure brokenthe way. After two hours of hard work in this line we came to the edgeof a wide gully, where the advance party had halted. The slope wastowards the south and the ground was somewhat bare, with good bunchgrass, where the other horses were feeding, while Jones and Dodds werejust descending from a tall pine tree. They declared nothing but snowcould be seen in all directions on the mountain and they were goingback. Besides it was impossible, they told me, to cross the gulch ahead. I did not want to turn back till I was compelled to, and I appealed toAndy as to whether or not he wanted to give up, not wishing to drag himalong unwillingly. With his characteristic nonchalance he said, "Goahead if you want to. " Dodds had one of his own horses with him, and hesaid he would bet me that horse I could not cross the gulch. I made atrial, wading ahead of my horse, the pack animal following and Andydriving from behind. When I got into the middle it was all I could doto move, but I continued my efforts till suddenly the bottom seemed torise, and then in a few yards the going grew easier and we emergedtriumphantly on the other side, where we waved an adieu to the others. By keeping close to the boles of the large pine trees, where the windhad swept circular places, leaving the snow shallow, we were soon out ofsight of our late companions. After two or three miles of tiring work the day began to fade, but wereached a beautiful south slope where there was little snow, with a richcrop of bunch grass just starting green under the vernal influence thatwas a feast for the famished horses, the snow relieving their thirst. While Andy the ever-faithful got supper I reconnoitred and made up mymind that I could reach the locality I was trying for, by following aridge I saw ahead where the snow seemed moderate. We were up and offearly. The snow was deep but we got on quite rapidly and finally reachedthe ridge, crossing two big gulches to get to it. At eleven o'clock wewere at the end of its summit and I could see a wide area to the westand north. The point appeared to be one of several similar projectionsthough the one we were on was the most prominent. I selected a spot fora monument where we dug a hole in the rocks and dirt, and then cutting atall slim pine and trimming it clean we hitched Yawger to it and madehim drag it to the hole, where by a combination of science and strengthwe got it upright. While Andy, who had great strength, lifted and pushedafter we had together got it half way, I propped it with a strong polewith a Y on the end, and in a few moments we saw the flag wavingtriumphantly from its tip at least thirty feet above our heads. Aroundits base we piled the rocks, which were exceptionally heavy, waist high, first cutting a notch in the pine and placing therein a can containing arecord, and our "Point F" was finished. The rest of the day I spent intriangulating to various other stations, and we went to bed under aclear sky and a milder atmosphere. In the morning I completed mytriangulating work and by that time the snow had settled and melted sothat the back track was much easier than the outward march, enabling usto get to headquarters at the spring before dark. I had been a littleafraid that a heavy snow would come on top of the large drifts whichwould have held us prisoners for a day or two. On Wednesday, March 6th, the whole party packed up and left the valleyby its narrow canyon outlet, a tributary of the Kanab Canyon. It beganeight hundred feet deep and continually increased. We called it ShinumoCanyon because we found everywhere indications of the former presenceof that tribe. Snow fell at intervals and we were alternately frozen andmelted till we reached an altitude where the warmth was continuous andthe snow became rain. Grass fresh and green and shrubs with the feelingof early spring surrounded us at the junction with Kanab Canyon wherethe walls were twelve hundred feet high. A mile below we camped by alone cedar tree where there were "pockets" of rain-water in the rocks. The next day our course was laid up Kanab Canyon through thick willowsthat pulled the packs loose. One horse fell upside down in a gully, buthe was not hurt and we pried him out and went on, camping near a largepool of intensely alkaline water. On the 8th going up a branch on theleft called Pipe Spring Wash we came out on the surface, very much asone might reach a second floor by a staircase. This is a feature of thecountry and as one goes northward he arrives on successive platforms, inthis manner passing through the several cliff ranges by means oftransverse gorges that usually begin in small "box" canyons and rapidlydeepen till they reach the full height of the cliff walls. At twoo'clock we came to Pipe Spring. A vacant stone house of one very largeroom and a great fireplace was put at our disposal by Mr. Winsor theproprietor, and it was occupied by the men while Prof. Had a tent put upfor Mrs. Thompson. We found a party of miners here who had heard of thegold discovery at the mouth of the Kanab on the Colorado and wereheading that way to reap the first-fruits. They were soon followed byhundreds more, making a steady stream down the narrow Kanab and outagain for some time, for on reaching the river the limited opportunityto do any mining was at once apparent and they immediately took the backtrack swearing vengeance on the originator of the story. For protection against raiders Mr. Winsor was building a solid doublehouse of blocks of sandstone, making walls three feet thick. The twobuildings were placed about twenty feet apart, thus forming an interiorcourt the length of the houses, protected at the ends by high walls andheavy gates. No windows opened on the exterior, but there were plenty ofloopholes commanding every approach. A fine large spring was conductedsubterraneously into the corner of one of the buildings and out again, insuring plenty of water in case of a siege. Brigham Young was partowner of this establishment, and it was one of the most effective placesof defence on a small scale, that I have ever seen. It was never neededso far as I have heard, and even at the time I marvelled that it shouldbe so elaborately prepared--far beyond anything else in the wholecountry. The cut opposite shows this fort as it was in 1903. Clem heretold Prof. He did not care to stay with us any longer. Ill success withhis photographs had discouraged him, but Prof. Persuaded him to remainfor a time. Until March 21st we operated around Pipe Spring triangulating andrecording the topography, and other data, when we packed our animalsagain and laid our course across the open country towards a range ofblue mountains seen in the south-west. One of these had been named afterSenator Trumbull by the Major in the autumn of 1870. They were the homeof the Uinkarets and we called the whole group by that name, discardingNorth Side Mountains, the name Ives had given when he sighted them in1858 from far to the south. Adjoining the Uinkaret region on the westwas the Shewits territory where the Howlands and Dunn were killed. Travelling across the dry plains we came to a well defined trail aboutsunset and followed it hoping that it would lead to water. We were notdisappointed for it took us to a pool of rain-water in a little gulleyat the foot of some low hills. A band of wild horses roamed the plainand as we had been told about a pool called the Wild Band Pocket, we hadno doubt this was the place. There was no wood anywhere, but a diligentsearch produced enough small brush to cook by, though Andy had a hardtime of it. Clem's horse ran away from him and lost his gun, so heremained behind at Pipe Spring to hunt for the weapon. [Illustration: Winsor Castle, the Defensive House at Pipe Springs. Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903. ] [Illustration: Little Zion Valley or the Mookoontoweap, Upper VirginRiver. Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903. ] The next day we travelled on over hilly country, following a moccasintrail, with here and there cedar groves as we approached nearer to themountains. On the edge of night traces of water were found in a gulchnear the foot of Trumbull, and while Jack and a new member of our force, Will Johnson of Kanab, dug for more, Prof. , Jones, and I scoured thevicinity in search of a spring or pocket, but though we found many oldwickiups there was no water. The Uinkarets had evidently camped here inwet weather. When we returned we were told that the little trace ofwater in the gulch had disappeared completely after the digging, a saddevelopment which was accepted by all but one old white horse whichstood on the edge of the hole for an hour or more patiently waiting. Ourkegs and canteens provided enough to make bread which we ate withsorghum, and as early as possible in the morning we pushed on withoutbreakfast, three men scouting ahead to discover the pool where the Majorin the autumn of 1870 had camped. Prof. Finally found it, a large poolof about a hundred barrels of clear, clean water, in a lava gulch, surrounded by cedar and piñon trees. Andy then gave us breakfast anddinner at the same time, eleven o'clock. Another new member of our partywas Beaman's successor, Fennemore, from Salt Lake, who had joined us atPipe Spring on March 19th, and he was prepared to photograph the region. We reconnoitred the neighbourhood during the afternoon, and the nextmorning Jones and I rode in one direction around Mount Trumbull, whileProf. And Captain Dodds rode the other way, to ascertain the lay of theland, and especially to find a ranch which some St. George men hadstarted in this locality. Jones and I met Whitmore, the proprietor ofthe ranch, and a friend of his, who informed us the ranch was six milesfarther on. We concluded not to go to it, but when Prof. And CaptainDodds got in after dark they told us they had gone the whole way. Thefollowing day, Monday March 25th, all the party except Andy and a newmember, Alf Young of Kanab, climbed to the summit of Mount Trumbull, finding the ascent very gradual and easy and taking the horses to thetop, which was 2440 feet above the pool and 8650 above sea level, commanding a magnificent view in every direction, as far to thesouth-east as Mount San Francisco. Jones, Jack, Fennemore, and Iremained there all night while the rest returned to camp. Jones and Iwanted to do some topographical work and get sights to some of ourother stations, and Fennemore, assisted by Jack, wanted pictures. Descending the opposite side the next day we went to a spring in an oakgrove which Prof. Had seen, where the others were already encamped. Onthe 27th, Prof. And I climbed a high cinder peak, of which there weremany, to get a view, and then went to Whitmore's Ranch, where we had atalk with him to get points on the region. He told us he had followed atrail to the Colorado, about twelve miles, to what he called the UteCrossing. If I remember correctly he had taken a horse down at thatpoint. The next day Johnson and I put a signal flag on one of the highmountains, afterwards named Logan, forming Signal Station Number 7. Thiswas a volcanic district and there were many old craters. Near the OakSpring camp was an extensive sheet of lava, seeming to have cooled but ayear or two before. Its surface was all fractured, but there were notrees on its lower extremity and where it had flowed around a hill itsrecent plasticity was exceedingly distinct. It had come from a crater, about five hundred feet high, two miles north. This had once been a conebut it was now disrupted, the lava having burst through to the north andto the south, leaving two sections standing, the stream to the southbeing one quarter mile wide and a mile and a half long, that on thenorth one mile wide and about the same in length. The depth of thesestreams was not far from thirty feet, and in spite of the exceedinglyrugged surface the southern stream was marked by deeply worn trailsrunning to and from a small spring situated in the middle of it. Besidethis spring one of the men from the ranch had found a human skeleton, covered with fragments of lava, with the decayed remains of a wickerwater-jug between the ribs, marking some unrecorded tragedy. Weestimated that less than three hundred years had passed since the lastoutburst from the crater. As there were pine trees a hundred years oldon the lava where it was more disintegrated near the point of outpour, the age of the flow could not have been less than that. Friday the 29th being cloudy and stormy nothing in the line of geodeticwork was done and we could only rest in camp. Dodds and Jones who hadgone to explore a way to the Grand Canyon came in reporting success. Saturday morning Jones and Fennemore started for Kanab to bring out morerations and meet us either at Fort Pierce or at Berry's Spring near St. George, while Prof. With Dodds and Johnson went to try to follow thetrail Whitmore had told about to the river, but after four miles theygave it up and climbed by a side trail to the plateau again. They made adry camp and the next day went on till they found water enough for thehorses in some pools on the rocks, and here, leaving the others tocontinue the reconnaissance, Prof. Came back to our camp, arriving in asnow-storm. It had been snowing with us at intervals all day. The nextday was April first, and with it came still heavier snow. We planned tomove down to the edge of the Grand Canyon, and Jack and Andy started asJack wished to make some photographs there, but the snow continuing weconcluded to wait till another day. When that came the snow was quitedeep on the ground and was still falling hard, which it continued to domost of the time, preventing us from moving. Fennemore had brought withhim a copy of _The Count of Monte Cristo_, which I had never read, andin its pages I soon became oblivious to the surroundings. The snow kepton the next day also and all the men out returned to the main camp, Dodds and Johnson having reached the river bank. When another morningdawned and showed no cessation of the aggravating storm, with the snowfifteen inches on the level, Prof. Said he would pack up Friday the 5thand get down to lower country around St. George. The day came clear andsunny and the snow began to melt. We headed for the Pine ValleyMountains back of St. George and made about twenty miles with no snowafter the first six, the altitude dropping to where the temperature wasmilder. Prof. Had inquired at the ranch about trails, but there were somany cattle trails that we did not get on the right one. We made a drycamp and early the following morning went on, not being able to see anylandmarks because of the clouds. Half an hour after starting a thicksnow-storm set in but we kept going, till in about a mile and a half theworld seemed suddenly to end. Above, below, and around us was a greatblank whiteness. Dismounting and cautiously advancing on foot wediscovered that we were on the brink of a very high cliff. As we did notknow which way to turn we threw off the packs and stopped where we were. Spreading out blankets we scraped the snow from them into the kettles tomelt for water. Then by holding a blanket up over Andy by the fourcorners he was able, with some chips he had previously chopped out ofthe side of a dead pine, to start a fire, by which he proceeded to cookdinner. When the snow fell less heavily we could peer down and then saw that thecliff was continuous in both directions. By half-past two, with our kegsand canteens filled with the snow water, we were again on the wayfollowing along to find a place to go down, but we saw none that seemedpracticable, and at last, having made altogether five miles, we haltedfor the night in a grove of cedars, where we had a good fire and werecomfortable though our rations were now growing scarce. Snow atintervals continued all day up to bedtime. The next day was Sunday. Wetravelled twenty miles along the line of cliffs and camped near a canyonin which we found pools of good water. We saw an antelope during the daybut could not get it. Andy baked up the last of our flour for supper andput on a pot of beans and one of dried peaches to cook for breakfast. The beans were edible in the morning and we disposed of them and thepeaches and went on our way. After a day of many ups and downs wearrived about two o'clock at a ranch called Gould's or Workman's, wherewe bought five dollars worth of corn-meal and milk. We were now on whatthe inhabitants of the region called Hurricane Hill, and from this weapplied the name Hurricane Ledge to the long line of sharp cliffs we hadfollowed, which begin at the Virgin River and extend, almost unbrokenand eight hundred to a thousand feet high, south to the Grand Canyon, forming the western boundary of the Uinkaret Plateau. From Gould's wehad a waggon road and following it we were led to the brink of theHurricane Ledge, where a road had been constructed to the bottom. Beforedescending we took a final look at the enchanting view opening away tothe north and north-west. At our feet was the Virgin Valley with thegreen fields of Tokerville, while beyond rose magnificent cliffsculminating to the north-west in the giant buttes and precipices of theMookoontoweap, or, as the Mormons call it, Little Zion Valley. Toppingthe whole sweep of magnificent kaleidoscopic topography were the PineValley Mountains and the lofty cliffs of the Colob and Markarguntplateaus. It has ever since been my opinion that few outlooks in allthe world are superior for colour and form to that stretching north fromthe northern part of the Hurricane Ledge. [29] Descending to the valley we arrived just at dusk at Berry's Spring, where our waggon under the direction of Jones had come with supplies. The spring was an excellent one and the rivulet flowing away from it wasbordered with large wild-rose bushes. Though the waggon and supplieswere there Jones was not, for we had expected to come in from fartherwest past Fort Pierce, and he had gone on to that place to tell us wherehe had decided to camp. Clem had found his gun and come out with them, the others of the party being Fennemore and George Adair. Jones cameback the next day and prepared to start with Andy and Johnson forseveral days' work in the Pine Valley Mountains, while Jack, CaptainDodds, Fennemore, and I were to return to the Uinkaret region tocomplete certain work there. Some goods to be distributed to the nativesfrom the Indian Bureau arrived at St. George and Prof. Went there withGeorge Adair to have a talk with the Indians to be found, and distributegoods. We had seen no Indians at all in the Uinkaret region. Hediscovered the Shewits who came in to be afraid of us, thinking wewanted to kill them, but they were willing to accept anything they couldget in the line of presents. Hardly any would acknowledge themselves tobe either Uinkarets or Shewits. On April 12th, according to the plan, Jack, Dodds, Fennemore, and Istarted back to the Uinkaret Mountains, following the trail we had triedto strike coming out. It led past a place called Fort Pierce, a smallstone building the settlers had formerly used as an advance post againstthe Shewits and Uinkarets. There we spent the night, and the next dayafter some trouble we got on the right trail, and on Monday, the 15th ofApril, we again reached what we had called Oak Spring, near MountTrumbull, and the southern flow of lava already described. The followingday Jack and Fennemore went down to the brink of the Grand Canyon, atthe foot of a sort of valley the Uinkarets called Toroweap, while withDodds I climbed the peak later named after Senator Logan, and attemptedsome triangulation, but the air was so murky I could not get my sightsand had to return for them the next morning. The day after that weclimbed Mount Trumbull, and I triangulated from there. One of my sightsfrom Logan was to a conical butte near which we had camped as we cameout, and near which we had found a large ant-hill covered with small, perfect quartz crystals that sparkled in the sun like diamonds. When Isighted to this butte, for want of a better name, I recorded ittemporarily as Diamond Butte, remembering the crystals, and the namebecame fixed, which shows how unintentionally names are sometimesbestowed. We examined the lava flows and the crater again, and I made asketch in pencil from another point of view from one I had made duringour former sojourn. Then we joined Jack and Fennemore, who had beentaking negatives at the canyon edge. On the 20th Dodds and I climbeddown the cliffs about three thousand feet to the water at a rapid calledLava Falls. Across the river we could see a very large spring, but ofcourse we could not get over to it. Returning to Oak Spring, we spentthere another night, and in the morning, while the others started forheadquarters, I rode around to the ranch to inquire about a spring I hadheard something about existing on the St. George trail; but the solitaryman I found there, who came out of the woods in response to my shout, awalking arsenal, did not know anything concerning it. After drinking aquart or two of milk, which he kindly offered me, I rode on to join mycompanions by continuing around the mountain, "running in" the trail asI went with a prismatic compass. Presently I saw a cougar sittingupright behind a big log, calmly staring at me, so I dismounted and senta Winchester bullet in his direction. My mule was highly nervous aboutfirearms, and having to restrain her antics by putting my arm throughthe bridle rein, her snorting skittishness both at the rifle and thecougar disturbed my aim and my shot went a trifle under. The bulletseemed to clip the log, but if it hit the cougar the effect was not whatI expected, for with a rush like a sky-rocket the animal disappeared inthe top of the pine tree overhead, and I could see nothing more of itthough I rode about looking for it. Not wishing to dally here, I spurredon to overtake my party, but in trying a short cut I passed beyond them, as they had by that time halted in some cedars for lunch. The man atthe ranch had told me that Whitmore was due to arrive that day, andhaving missed a part of the trail by the short cut, I could not judge bythe tracks as to where my party were, and not caring to waste time, Irode on and on till I had gone so far I did not want to turn back. Evening came, but there was a good moon, and I did not stop till eighto'clock. The night was cold; the plain was barren and bleak. I had nocoat, but with the saddle blanket and a handful of dead brush, which Iburned by installments, I managed to warm myself enough to sleep byshort intervals. I was on my feet with the dawn, but my mule was nowhereto be seen, though I had hoppled her well with my bridle reins. Itracked the mule about five miles to a muddy place where there had beenwater, caught her, and rode back to my saddle, when I continued myjourney, running in the trail as I went. I became pretty thirsty andhungry, but the only thing for me to do was to continue to our maincamp. Had I gone back I might have missed our men again, for there hadbeen some talk about a short-cut trail, and I feared they might try it. At two o'clock I reached Black Rock Canyon, where there was awater-pocket full of warm and dirty water, but both the mule and I tooka drink and I rode on, passing Fort Pierce at sunset. Off on my right Iperceived ten or twelve Shewits Indians on foot travelling rapidly alongin Indian file, and as the darkness fell and I had to go through somewooded gulches I confess I was a little uncomfortable and kept my riflein readiness; but I was not molested and reached camp about ten o'clock, where I ate a large piece of bread with molasses, after a good drink ofwater, and went to bed. The others arrived the following afternoon. Ihad left notes for them by the trail in cleft-sticks, so they knew thatI was ahead. This was the longest trip I ever made without water orfood. We prepared to start out again in different directions; one party was togo to the Pine Valley Mountains, another to Pipe Spring and the mouth ofthe Paria to look after our property there, a third up the Virgin Valleyfor photographs, and a fourth to St. George and the Virgin range ofmountains south-west of that town. Prof. Headed this last party, and hetook me as his topographical assistant. April 27th we rode into St. George, a town I was much interested to see. I found a very pretty, neat, well-ordered little city of about fifteen hundred population, witha good schoolhouse, a stone tabernacle with a spire, and a court house, the water running in ditches along the streets for irrigating purposesas well as for drinking. About a mile below the town we camped, and wecould hear the band playing a serenade to one of the officials who wasto start the next day on a long journey. After several days of feelingour way about in the rugged and dry region below St. George, we finallydiscovered a good water-pocket, from which Prof. And I made a long, hardride and climb, and about sunset camped at the base of what is nowcalled Mount Bangs, the highest peak of the Virgin Mountains, for whichwe were aiming. The next day we climbed an additional eleven hundredfeet to its summit, and completed our work in time by swift riding toget to our main camp at the water-pocket by half-past six. It was an easy trip back to St. George, following an old trail, and thenwe made our way to Kanab again, where we put all our notes in shape andfitted out for the journey to the mouth of the Dirty Devil across theunknown country. [Illustration: In the Unknown Country. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 28: For the linguistic classification of stocks and tribes ofthe United States, see Appendix, _The North Americans of Yesterday_, byF. S. Dellenbaugh. ] [Footnote 29: For a description of Little Zion Valley, see "A New Valleyof Wonders, " by F. S. Dellenbaugh, _Scribner's Magazine_, January, 1904. ] CHAPTER XIII Off for the unknown Country--A lonely Grave--Climbing a Hog-back to a green grassy Valley--Surprising a Ute Camp--Towich-a-tick-a-boo--Following a Blind Trail--The Unknown Mountains Become Known--Down a deep Canyon--To the Paria with the _Cañonita_--John D. Lee and Lonely Dell. Andy and Captain Dodds, who had gone to the mouth of the Paria toascertain the condition of our boats, returned May 15th, reporting theboats all right, but the caches we had left torn up by wolves andprospectors. The latter had stolen oars and other things, and gone downon a raft to be wrecked at the first rapid in Marble Canyon, where theyjust escaped with their lives. A settler had established himself there ashort time before, the notorious John D. Lee, who was reputed to haveled the massacre of the unfortunate Missourians at Mountain Meadows in1857, and who had eluded capture all these years. He had been "cut off, "nominally at least, from the Mormon Church, and had lived in the mostout-of-the-way places, constantly on his guard. Our men took all ourropes and remaining materials from the caches to his cabin, where theywould be safe till our arrival. We prepared for the trip eastward acrossthe unknown country to the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, and by the22d of May I had completed the preliminary map of the region to westwardwhich we had just reconnoitred. Mrs. Thompson was to stay in Kanab, forProf. Decided that it would not be advisable for her to accompany him onthis journey, although she was the most cheerful and resolute explorerof the whole company. A large tent was erected for her in the corner ofJacob's garden, and she was to take her meals with Sister Louisa, whosehouse stood close by. With Fuzz, a most intelligent dog, for a companionin her tent and the genial Sister Louisa for a near neighbour she wassatisfactorily settled. Fuzz had the peculiarity of sympathising withthe Navajos in their contempt for the Pai Utes. The latter roused hisire on the instant, but when a Navajo came up, with his confident step, Fuzz would lie still, with merely a roll of the eye to signify that hewas on guard. Saturday, May 25th, our caravan of riders, pack animals, and a waggonmoved slowly toward Eight-Mile Spring, the first stop in prospect. Irode a brisk little horse which had received the lofty name of Aaron. When we reached Eight-Mile Spring about noon there was barely enoughwater for our animals and for cooking dinner, which compelled our goingelsewhere to put on the finishing touches to our outfit before cuttingloose from the settlements, and Prof. Directed the caravan to continueto Johnson, farther east and up one of the canyons of the VermilionCliffs. He returned to Kanab to make some final arrangements there, while we kept on to Johnson, passing the little settlement of two orthree houses, and making a camp two miles above, where the canyon bottomwas wide and level. Here we went over everything to be sure that all wasin good order and nothing left behind. The animals were reshod wherenecessary, which operation kept Andy and Dodds busy all of Sunday, the26th. By thus making a start and proceeding a few miles all defects andneglects become apparent before it is too late to remedy them. On MondayJack went back to Kanab with the waggon, returning toward night withGeorge Adair. Fennemore had started with them, but he had turned backafter something forgotten, and they did not know whether or not he hadcome on. In the morning George went off to look for him, and met himdown at the settlement. He had followed on the day before, but insteadof turning up the Johnson road, according to instructions, he had goneahead on the road towards the Paria settlement. Finally concluding thathe was wrong he had tried to correct his mistake by moonlight, but aftera while gave it up, tied his mule, unsaddled, to a cedar, and claimedthe protection of another for himself. During the night the mule chewedthe bridle in two and departed for Kanab, leaving Fennemore, whendaylight came, to walk some eight miles under a hot sun without water orbreakfast to Johnson. He was considerably used up by this episode, andput in the remainder of the day in recuperating. The evenings werewonderfully beautiful, and looking from a height the scene wasexceptionally picturesque, with the red rocks, the warm sky, the campequipage, and the air so still that the smoke of the camp-fires roseslender and unbroken till lost in the zenith. Early Wednesday morning Prof. Rode up on his powerful buckskin-colouredhorse, and with Johnson and me went over to our Point B some miles awayfor some bearings, while Fennemore rode in search of his abandonedsaddle. By night there was nothing to interfere with our making thefinal start, which we did May 30th, proceeding up the canyon withoutMormon, one of our strongest horses, which by an accident had beeninjured so badly that he had to be left behind at Johnson. He was afractious, unruly beast, but with so great vitality that we were sorrynot to have his services. He died a week or two later. Towards night wepassed another very small settlement called Clarkston, and camped nearit, the last houses we would see for some time. Several Pai Utes hungaround, and Prof. Engaged one called Tom to accompany us as interpreterand, so far as he might know the country, as guide. The next day, after sixteen miles north-easterly up canyons, we enteredabout three o'clock an exceedingly beautiful little valley, with a finespring and a small lake or pond at the lower end. George Adair instantlydeclared that he meant to come back here to live, and after dinner whenwe reconnoitred the place he staked out his claim. All the next morning, June 1st, our way led over rolling meadows covered with fine grass, butabout noon this ended and we entered the broken country of the upperParia, with gullies and gulches barren and dry the rest of the day, except two, in which we crossed small branches of the Paria. In one ofthe dry gulches we passed a grave, marked by a sandstone slab with E. A. Cut on it, which the wolves had dug out, leaving the human bonesscattered all around. We could not stop to reinter them. They were theremains of Elijah Averett, a young Mormon, who was killed while pursuingPai Utes in 1866. Just before sunset we arrived at the banks of theParia, where we made camp, with plenty of wood, water, and grass. Captain Dodds during the afternoon recognised a place he had been inwhen hunting a way the autumn before, and we followed his old trail fora time. Leaving the Paria the following day where it branches, wefollowed the east fork to its head, twelve miles, climbing rapidlythrough a narrow valley. We could plainly see on the left a high, flat, cliff-bounded summit, which was called Table Mountain, and early in theafternoon we reached a series of "hog-backs, " and up one of which theold Indian trail we were now following took its precarious way. Thehog-backs were narrow ridges of half-disintegrated clay-shale, withsides like the roof of a house, the trail following the sharpsummit-line. Before we had fairly begun this very steep, slippery, andnarrow climb, the thunder boomed and the heavens threw down upon usfierce torrents of rain, soaking everything and chilling us through andthrough, while making the trail like wet soap. Part way up, at one ofthe worst places, a pack came loose, and, slipping back, hung on therump of the horse. There was no room for bucking it off, and there wasno trouble so far as the beast of burden was concerned, for he realisedfully his own danger. Two of us managed to climb along past the otheranimals to where he meekly stood waiting on the narrow ridge, with adescent on each side of eight hundred or nine hundred feet, and setthings in order once more, when the cavalcade continued the ascent, thetotal amount of which was some twelve hundred feet. Arriving at the top we found ourselves almost immediately on the edge ofa delightful little valley, mossy and green with a fresh June dress, down which we proceeded two or three miles to a spring where Dodds andJacob had made a cache of some flour the year before. The flour haddisappeared. We made a camp and dried out our clothes, blankets, etc. , by means of large fires. Though it was summer the air was decidedlychilly, for we were at an altitude of nearly 6000 feet. Our interpreterthat was to be did not enjoy the situation and I think he dreadedmeeting with the stranger Indians we might encounter. He declared he was"heap sick, " and begged to be allowed to return, so Prof. Gave himseveral days' rations and we saw him no more. There was a pretty creekin this valley flowing eastward, which Dodds said was the head of theDirty Devil, the same stream he had followed down the year before in theattempt to find a way to bring us rations. The weather was very bad butwe kept on down Potato Valley as it had been named, crossing three orfour swift tributaries. About four o'clock we stopped beside a ragingtorrent and went into camp to reconnoitre. There were signs of some onehaving been here about a month before, and as the animals were shod wejudged it was some prospector. The next day was so wet and Prof. Wasfeeling so sick that we kept our camp, having made tents out of paulinsand pack-covers, which gave me a chance to plot up the trail from Kanabto this point, one hundred and three miles. Instead of crossing thetorrent the following day, June 5th, we went over the chief streambefore the union and travelled down the right-hand side till we arrivedwithin half a mile of the place where the river canyoned and received atributary from the left. It cut into the rocks very abruptly and beinghigh we could not enter the canyon as Dodds had done. While the partycamped here, Prof. And Dodds rode away to the south on a dim trail tofind out what move to make; how far we might be able to go down theDirty Devil the next day. When they got back they reported finding acanyon twelve miles farther on, with many water-pockets, and concludedto go there. We arrived about noon Thursday, June 6th, making camp. Prof. And Dodds then climbed to where they could get a wide view, andDodds pointed out the locality he had before reached when he thoughthimself so near the mouth of the Dirty Devil. No sooner had he done sothan Prof. Perceived at once that we were not on the river we thought wewere on, for by this explanation he saw that the stream we were tryingto descend flowed into the Colorado far to the south-west of the UnknownMountains, whereas he knew positively that the Dirty Devil came in onthe north-east. Then the question was, "What river is this?" for we hadnot noted a tributary of any size between the Dirty Devil and the SanJuan. It was a new river whose identity had not been fathomed. Thisdiscovery put a different complexion on everything. The problem was morecomplicated than Dodds had imagined when he was trying to reach themouth the year before. Prof. Declared it was impossible to proceed farther in this directiontowards our goal. The canyon of the river was narrow, and with thestream swimming high it was out of the question as a path for us now, and even had we been able to go down far enough to get out on the otherside, the region intervening between it and the distant mountains was aheterogeneous conglomeration of unknown mesas and canyons that appearedimpassable. He concluded the only thing to do was to go north to thesummit of the Wasatch cliffs and keep along the high land north-east toan angle where these slopes vanished to the north. From that point wemight be able to cross to the Dirty Devil or Unknown Mountains. Once atthese mountains we felt certain of finding a way to our formercamp-ground at the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. We retraced our pathto the foot of Potato Valley, and there Jones, Clem, and George Adairwere sent out to Kanab for additional rations, it being plain that wewere in for a longer effort than had been contemplated. They were to behere again in twelve days to meet Prof. With his party, on the returnfrom starting down the _Cañonita_ with a crew selected from the sevenremaining men. This seven, which included Prof. , were now to strike up abranch creek and reach the upper slopes of what he later called theAquarius Plateau, and along its verdant slopes continue our effort toreach the Unknown Mountains. The two parties separated on Saturday, June8th, our contingent travelling about eighteen miles nearly due north, till just at sunset we entered a high valley in which flowed twosplendid creeks. There we camped with an abundance of everything neededto make a comfortable rest for man and beast. In such travel as this thebeast is almost the first consideration, for without him movement isslow and difficult and distance limited. We had gone up in altitude agreat deal, 1800 or 2000 feet, and the next day, which was Sunday, wecontinued this upward course, seeing signs of deer and elk with anoccasional sight of a fat "pine hen" winging its heavy flight from treeto tree. The pines were very tall and thick, interspersed with fir andbalsam as well as with the usual accompaniment of high altitude in theWest, the aspen. Our aneroids indicated 10, 000 feet above sea-level, andwe could look down upon the vast canyoned desert to the south as on amap. Descending into a deep canyon where a clear torrent was foamingdown at the rate of five hundred feet to the mile, we went up a branchand finally passing over a sudden crest discovered before us a verybeautiful lake of an extent of some two hundred acres. It was now late, and though we had come only ten miles we went into camp for the night. There were several smaller lagoons nearby and we named the group theAspen Lakes. Around them in the dense groves huge snowbanks stilllingered from the heart of winter. A prettier mountain region than thiscould not be imagined, while the magnificent outlook to the south andeast across the broken country was a bewildering sight, especially asthe night enveloped it, deepening the mystery of its entangled gorgesand cliffs. From every point we could see the Navajo Mountain and atleast we knew what there was at the foot of its majestic northern slope. I climbed far above camp and crossing over a promontory looked down uponthe nebulous region to the eastward that we were to fathom, and itseemed to me one of the most interesting sights I had ever beheld. Thenight was so cold that ice formed in our kettles, for our altitude infeet above sea was in the ten thousand still. [Illustration: Navajo Mountain from near Kaiparowits Peak. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. ] All the next morning, Monday, June 10th, we rode through a delightfulregion of rolling meadows, beautiful groves of pines and aspens, andcool, clear creeks. Near noon we descended into a fertile valley wherewe crossed two superb torrential streams and camped at the second undera giant pine. Fennemore felt very sick, which prevented further progressthis day, and we put in the afternoon exploring as far as we could theneighbourhood. More lakes were found and as they were in a cup-likedepression we called them the "Hidden Lakes. " Jack made some finenegatives of several of these pretty bodies of water, two of which Ihave added to the illustrations of this volume. Not far from our camptwo more splendid creeks came together to form one, which Dodds said hethought was that named by them Big Boulder, where it joined the mainstream down below. The next morning, Tuesday, we began our day's work bysoon crossing Cataract and Cascade creeks before they united to form theBig Boulder, rushing down with an impetuosity that was forbidding. Thetwo forming creeks were much alike, but we could see back in thedistance a beautiful cascade of fully 1000 feet in which the secondstream originated, and we distinguished it by that name. All day wetravelled over a rancher's paradise, meeting no Indians and seeing norecent signs of any except in some filmy smoke mounting mysteriouslyfrom canyons in the tangled sandstone labyrinth below. Who were they, how many, and what might be their temper? were questions that came to usas we reflected on the presence there of unknown human beings, andfurthermore would we meet them, and if so when? As on the preceding daywe crossed many fine brooks which in the dry season probably would notmake so vigorous a showing. Late in the afternoon, having travelledfifteen miles, we reached the point where the end of the Wasatch orAquarius Plateau, the high slope of which we were using as a bridge fromPotato Valley to the Unknown Mountains, broke back to the north, cuttingus off once more from our objective, for a wide stretch, twenty-fivemiles in an airline, of ragged desert apparently impassable stillintervened. We camped there at a convenient little spring. In themorning I was sent with Johnson for my companion in one direction downthe mountain to look for some old trail, while Prof. With Dodds went inanother. Scarcely had I gone half a mile when I found tolerably freshIndian sign, and a mile or two farther on we struck a recently travelledtrail. The horses that had gone over it were unshod and there weremoccasin tracks indicating Indians without a doubt, but what kind ofcourse the track did not reveal. The trail led towards the Dirty DevilMountains, and we followed it three or four miles to ascertain withcertainty its general course. There was a possibility of our stumblingupon the Indians in camp at some bend, and as this was not desirable foronly two of us we turned back as soon as we felt sure of the direction. Prof. Had seen no trail at all, and he said we would take the one I hadfound and follow it. That night was disagreeable and rainy withnumberless mosquitoes, but worst of all one of our new men always snoredtill the ground shook, and owing to the rain we could not get away fromhim, for we had to remain in the improvised tent to keep dry. The morning light never was more welcome and we were all up early. Theday was fair. We were soon off and made our way down from the grassyheights to the trail, tracing its wearisome twists and turns, sometimesthinking it was not going our way at all when the next turn would beexactly right. In general its course was about east. The land wasdesolate and dry, and exactly as the region appeared from above, acomplete labyrinth of variously coloured cliffs and canyons. Besidesbeing very crooked on account of the nature of the topography, the trailat times was indistinct because of the barren rocks, smooth as a floor, with nothing to take an imprint. In these places we were obliged to makethe best guess we could. We came to a place where a valley lay about1800 feet below us, with the descent to it over bare, smooth, whitesandstone almost as steep as a horse could stand on. We travelled a mileand a half over this and then found ourselves in a better looking regionwhere, after a few miles, we discovered a beautiful creek flowingrapidly. There was plenty of good grass and we made our camp beneathsome cottonwood trees, having accomplished twenty miles the way we came. Smoke of an Indian fire was rolling up about three miles below us, butwe paid little attention to it. Every man delayed putting down hisblankets till the champion snorer had selected the site of his bed, andthen we all got as far away as the locality would permit. Having sleptlittle the night before, we hardly stirred till morning, and ingratitude we called the stream Pleasant Creek without an attempt atoriginality. It was Friday, May 14th, and our long cavalcade proceeded in the usualsingle file down along the creek in the direction of the Indian smoke. Scarcely had we gone three miles when suddenly we heard a yell and thebark of a dog. Then we discovered two squaws on the other side who hadbeen gathering seeds, and who were now giving the alarm, for we wereclose upon an Indian camp set on the edge of a low hill on the oppositeside of the creek. Our outfit presented rather a formidable appearance, especially as we were an unexpected apparition, and we could see themall running to hide, though I thought for a moment we might have abattle. Without a halt, Prof. Led the way across the creek to the footof the hill, and as we reached the place one poor old man left as asacrifice came tottering down, so overcome by fear that he could barelyarticulate, "Hah-ro-ro-roo, towich-a-tick-a-boo, " meaning very friendlyhe was, and extending his trembling hand. Doubtless he expected to beshot on the instant. With a laugh we each shook his hand in turn saying"towich-a-tick-a-boo, old man, " and rode up the hill into the camp, where we found all the wickiups with everything lying about just as theyhad been using it at the moment of receiving the alarm. We dismountedand inducing the terrified old man to sit down in one of the wickiups, Prof. Sat with him and we rolled cigarettes, giving him one, and whenall were smoking, except Prof. Who never used tobacco, we urged him inEnglish and Pai Ute and by signs to call the others back. I walked a fewyards out on the hill and just then, with a rush and a clatter oflanguage I could not understand, except "Impoo immy pshakai?" (What doyou want?) the two squaws who had been up the creek arrived. Theforemost one, frothing at the mouth with excitement and effort, dashedat me with an uplifted butcher knife as if she would enjoy sending itinto me, but I laughed at her and she halted immediately in front of me. She broke into a maniacal laugh then and shouted something to the hiddenrefugees. We persuaded the old man also to call them, and he stepped outfrom the cedars which grew on the point and spoke a loud sentence. Atlast they began to appear silently and one by one. There were eight ofthe men, all well dressed in buckskin, and a number of women andchildren. When they became confident that we really meant to be friendlythey relaxed their vigilance. With the hope of securing a guide and alsoto study them a little we went into camp in the creek bottom under thehill where they came to visit us. Their language and appearance showedthem to be Utes. When Prof. Got back to Kanab he heard that a party of Red Lake Utes hadkilled a white boy near the Sevier settlements, and he concluded thisband must have been the one. They probably thought we were pursuing theminto their secret lair to punish them. Their great anxiety to trade forpowder indicated their lack of that article and partly explained theprecipitousness of their retreat. They had numbers of well dressedbuckskins and a very small amount of powder would buy one, but as we hadonly metallic cartridges we could do little in the line of exchange. Tosatisfy one of them that we had no loose powder I removed the springfrom the magazine of my Winchester and poured the sixteen cartridgesout. He had never seen such a gun before and was greatly astonished, though he hardly understood how it worked. Prof. Tried his best topersuade one to go with us as a guide, for the labyrinth ahead was apuzzle, but whether through fear or disinclination to leave friends notone would go. The chief gave us a minute description of the trail to theUnknown or Dirty Devil Mountains as well as he could by signs and words, some of which we could not understand, and long afterwards we learnedthat his information was exactly correct, though at the time throughmisunderstanding we were not able to follow it. They also told us therewas a trail to the big river beyond the mountains. There was a little canyon in the creek nearby and the water rushed downover a bed of bare rock at an angle of about twenty degrees. We weresurprised to discover hundreds of fish six to nine inches long wrigglingup the stream along one edge where the water was very shallow. Theyformed a line from top to bottom. Unable to secure the guide, we left at six o'clock in the morning, Saturday, June 15th, with all our relations cordial, the Utes going awaybefore we did, and struck out on the trail which led south-eastward fromthis camp. Travelling twelve miles, we passed through a narrow canyoninto a larger one, believing that we were following the chief'sdirection. Recent heavy rains had washed out the trail, and not knowingits course it was impossible to keep even its general direction. Goingup a left-hand branch of the canyon--that is, to the north--we found noexit, so we came down and followed a trail up the right-hand branch tillit disappeared, then going back once more to the entrance we again wentup the left-hand branch till we came to a vertical wall one thousandfeet high, which turned us around. The right-hand one was enteredanother time, and towards its head where the cliffs could not be climbedwe made camp, with an abundance of water which was so strongly alkalinewe could not use it and had to keep the stock from it also. Our kegswere full and we did not suffer except by limitation. In the morning wecontinued up the same canyon till it ended in vertical cliffs, beneathwhich there was a large pool of pure cool water, with ferns clingingabove it to the rocks and rank vegetation all around. This was animmense relief, and we found it hard to turn our backs on so attractivea spot and go down the gorge once more to a point not far below our lastcamp. Here the walls were about a thousand feet and very precipitous, though somewhat broken. Prof. , Jack, Dodds, and I climbed out on thenorth and hunted for water in different directions on the top. I kept onand on down a dry wash, persisting against the objection of Dodds, whothought it useless, and was at last rewarded by discovering a pocketamong the rocks containing several barrels of water, with another thatwas larger a short distance below in a crevice on a rock-shelf at thebrink of a canyon. We returned to camp with this news, where Prof. And Jack soon joined us. They had found no pockets, but had seen the divide between the waters ofthe Colorado and the Dirty Devil, which we could follow to the mountainsif we could scale the cliffs. Prof. Had selected a point where hethought we could mount. With a liberal use of axe, shovel, and pick wesucceeded in gaining the summit in an hour and a half. With all thecliff-climbing we had done with horses this seemed to me our paramountachievement. The day was ending by this time, and I led the way withsome trepidation towards the pocket I had found, for in my haste to getback I had not carefully noted the topography. The cedars and piñons alllooked alike in the twilight shades, and as I went on and on the menbehind began to lose faith and made joking remarks about my mentalstatus. I felt certain I was right, yet the distance seemed so muchgreater in the dusk than when I had traversed it on foot that I was alittle disturbed. By the time we at last got to the pocket darkness wasupon us, though nobody cared for anything but water, and there it wasfresh and pure. The animals and ourselves (Andy filling the kettlesfirst) consumed the entire amount, but it gave each a full drink, and weheld the second pool in reserve. [Illustration: Tantalus Creek. Tributary of Frémont River. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. ] [Illustration: D. Preliminary map of a portion of the northern part ofthe unknown country indicated by the blank space on Map A at page 95, showing the course of part of Glen Canyon, the mouth of the Frémont(Dirty Devil) River, the Henry (Unknown) Mountains, and the trail of thefirst known party of white men to cross this area. The Escalante River, which was mistaken for the Dirty Devil, enters the Colorado just abovethe first letter "o" of Colorado at the bottom of the map. The DirtyDevil enters from the north at the upper right-hand side. ] When morning came we engineered a way for the animals down to the shelfwhere the other pocket was, twenty or thirty feet below, by pullingrocks away in places and piling them up in others. The shelf was perhapsfifty or sixty feet wide, with a sheer plunge of one thousand feet atthe outer end into the first canyon we had followed. The animals couldnot get to the water, but we dipped it out for them in the camp kettles. The way up from the shelf was so very steep that at one point two of ushad to put our shoulders to the haunches of some of the horses to"boost" them, while other men pulled on a strong halter from above, andin this way we soon had them all watered and ready for pack and saddle. Keeping along the divide we had comparatively easy going, with theUnknown Mountains ever looming nearer, till their blue mystery vanishedand we could discern ordinary rocks and trees composing their slopes. About noon we arrived at the edge of an intervening valley, with thewind blowing so fierce a gale that we could barely see. Crossing thisdepression we reached a small creek at the foot of the second mountainfrom the north (now Mt. Pennell), and climbed its slope seventeenhundred feet to a beautiful spring, where we camped, with plenty of finegrass for the famished horses. We had at last traversed the unknown tothe unknown, and felt well satisfied with our success. If it had everbeen done before by white men there was no knowledge of it. The temperature was so low that water froze in the camp kettles, andnext morning, June 18th, the thermometer stood at 28° F. , with the waterof the little brook running from the spring at 37° F. After breakfastProf. , Jack, and Dodds climbed the mountain on which we were camped, running their aneroid out, while with Johnson I went down the slopenorth, crossed the pass, and climbed the first mountain (now Mt. Ellen, after Mrs. Thompson). A severe snow-storm set in, and when we hadfinally attained a point where our aneroid indicated 11, 200 feet abovesea-level, we were obliged to turn back because of the lateness of thehour and having no coats, no food, or water. When we reached camp on theother mountain night had come. Andy had been trying to cook some beans, but the high altitude prevented the water from getting hot enough andthe operation was incomplete. [30] I foolishly ate some of the beans, being very hungry, with the result that I was sick for the first time onthe expedition, suffering a horrible stomach-ache. Though not disabled Iwas extremely uncomfortable. In the morning we started to go aroundnorth through the pass to the east side of the mountain, and I ran inthe trail as usual, mounting and dismounting many times, till I wasextremely glad after eight miles when we came to the head of a littlecreek and stopped to enable Prof. To climb the third peak (Mt. Hillers)for observations. While he was gone I was content to lie still in theshade of a bush, and finally lost my pain in sleep. Prof. Got back solate that we camped where we were, much to my satisfaction. The viewfrom our camp was extensive and magnificent, the whole Dirty Devilregion lying open, like a book, below us. We were striking for the creek up which Prof. And Cap. Had come the yearbefore from the river, for we knew that from its mouth we could easilyget to where our _Cañonita_ was cached. The next day, June 20th, wecontinued down Trachyte Creek, as Prof. Called it, till four o'clock, passing many old camps and grazing grounds, when we halted for Prof. Toclimb to a height. The outlook there showed him that this was not thestream whose canyon below we wanted to descend to the river, so thefollowing morning he took Dodds and reconnoitred, the latter after awhile returning with orders for us to come on eastward to anothercanyon. We left Trachyte Creek and reached Prof. At two o'clock. He hadprospected a trail, or rather a way, to descend into the canyon over thesmooth bare sandstone across which we wound back and forth for a mile, constantly going down into the strange, weird depths till at last wereached the creek bed, where a short distance below we went into camp ina beautiful green cottonwood grove, with enormous pockets of good waterclose by. By seven o'clock in the morning of the 22d we were going ondown the deep, narrow canyon, and arrived at the Colorado at half-pastten. The river was at least fifteen feet higher than last year, andrushed by with a majestic power that was impressive. Our first unusualincident was when Prof. 's horse, in trying to drink from a soft bank, dropped down into the swift current and gave us half an hour's difficultwork to get him out. When we had eaten dinner we all went up to themouth of the Dirty Devil, where we had stored the _Cañonita_, andrejoiced to find her lying just as we left her, except that the waterhad risen to that level and washed away one of the oars. We caulked theboat temporarily, launched her once more on the sweeping tide, and intwo minutes were at our camp, where we hauled her out for the repairsnecessary to make her sound for the run to the Paria. Sunday was the next day, June 23d, and while the others rested I plottedin the trail by which we had crossed to this place so that Prof. Couldtake it out with him, as he decided that Jack, Johnson, Fennemore, and Iwere to take the boat down, while he, Andy, and Dodds would go backoverland to meet Jones and George Adair at the foot of Potato Valley. Atfive o'clock they left us, going up the same canyon we had come down andwhich we called Lost Creek Canyon, now Crescent Creek. The next day werecaulked and painted the boat, and I put the name _Cañonita_ in redletters on the stern and a red star on each side of the bow. ByWednesday the 26th she was all ready and we put her in the water and randown four miles to the large Shinumo house. Jack rowed the stern oars, Johnson the bow, I steered, while Fennemore sat on the middle deck. Thehigh water completely obliterated the aggravating shoals which hadbothered us the year before, and we had no work at all except to steeror to land, the current carrying us along at a good pace. We stoppedoccasionally for pictures and notes and got about everything that Jackand Fennemore wanted in the line of photographs. The Fourth of July wecelebrated by firing fourteen rounds, and I made a lemon cake and apeach-pie for dinner. On Sunday the 8th we passed the mouth of thestream that had been mistaken for the Dirty Devil, and which Prof. Hadnamed Escalante River. It was narrow and shallow and would not be takenat its mouth for so important a tributary. The next day we passed theSan Juan which was running a very large stream, and camped at the MusicTemple, where I cut Jack's name and mine under those of the Howlands andDunn. The rapid below was dashing but easy and we ran it withoutstopping to examine. On Friday the 12th we came to El Vado and dug up acache we had made there the year before. Our rations for some time werenothing but bread and coffee, and we were glad to see the Echo Peaks andthen run in at the mouth of the Paria on Saturday, July 13th, with theexpectation of finding men and supplies. The _Dean_ was lying high anddry on the bank and we wondered who had taken her from herhiding-place. Firing our signal shots and receiving no answer, Jack andI went up the Paria, crossing it on a log, and saw a cabin and a farm onthe west side. This we knew must be Lee's. He was ploughing in a field, and when he first sighted us he seemed a little startled, doubtlessthinking we might be officers to arrest him. One of his wives, Rachel, went into the cabin not far off and peered out at us. She was a fineshot as I afterwards learned. Lee received us pleasantly and invited usto take our meals at his house till our party came. As we had nothingbut bread and coffee and not much of these we accepted. The freshvegetables out of the garden, which his other wife, Mrs. LeeXVIII. , served nicely cooked, seemed the most delicious foodthat could be prepared. Mrs. Lee XVIII. Was a stout, comelyyoung woman of about twenty-five, with two small children, and seemed tobe entirely happy in the situation. The other wife, whose number I didnot learn, left before dark for a house they had at Jacob's Pool and Inever saw her again. [Illustration: Example of Lakes on the Aquarius Plateau. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. ] Lee had worked hard since his arrival early in the year and now had hisfarm in fairly good order with crops growing, well irrigated by thewater he took out of the Paria. He called the place Lonely Dell, and itwas not a misnomer. Johnson made arrangements to go to Kanab the nextday, as he concluded that his health would not permit him to go throughthe Grand Canyon with us, so this was our last night with him. Lee gaveme his own version of the Mountain Meadows Massacre claiming that hereally had nothing to do with it and had tried to stop it, and when hecould not do so he went to his house and cried. The Pai Utes ever aftercalled him Naguts or Crybaby. [31] In the morning, Sunday, July 14th, Johnson departed with Lee and weexpected someone to arrive to bring us news of the Major and Prof. , butthe sun went down once more without any message. We felt sure that Prof. Got out of the Dirty Devil country without accident, but we wanted somedefinite information of it and we also desired to know when we wouldresume the canyon voyage. On Monday having nothing else to do we tooksome hoes and worked in Lee's garden till near noon, when we heard yellswhich proved to come from Andy and Clem with a waggon needing some helpover bad places. We soon had the waggon in a good spot under somewillows and there speedily ransacked it for mail, spending the rest ofthe day reading letters and newspapers. Andy told us that Prof. Hadreached Kanab with no trouble of any kind. Mrs. Lee XVIII. , orSister Emma, as she would in Utah properly be called, invited us todinner and supper, and the next day we worked in the garden again, repaired the irrigating ditch, and helped about the place in a generalway, glad enough to have some occupation even though the sun was burninghot and the thermometer stood at 110° in the shade. Almost every day wedid some work in the garden and we also repaired the irrigating dam. Our camp was across the Paria down by the Colorado, and when Brother Leecame back the following Sunday he called to give us a lengthydissertation on the faith of the Latter-Day Saints (Mormons), whileAndy, always up to mischief, in his quiet way, delighted to get behindhim and cock a rifle. At the sound of the ominous click Lee would wheellike a flash to see what was up. We had no intention of capturing him, of course, but it amused Andy to act in a way that kept Lee on the _quivive_. We got the _Nell_ out of her shed and found her in very badcondition, while the _Dean_ was about as we had left her. Andy and Jackwent to work on the _Dean_ and in a few days had her in excellent trim. On July 24th, which is the day the Mormons celebrate for the settlementof Salt Lake Valley, Lee invited us to dinner and supper, which gave usa very pleasant time. So far as our intercourse with Lee was concernedwe had no cause for complaint. He was genial, courteous, and generous. A copy of DeForrest's _Overland_ was in camp and I whiled away somehours reading it, but time began to hang heavily upon us and we dailylonged for the appearance of the rest of the party so that we might pushout on the great red flood that moved irresistibly down into the maw ofMarble Canyon, and end the uncertainty that lay before us. August thefirst came and still no message. Fennemore now felt so sick that Jacktook him to Lee's with rations in order that he might have vegetableswith his meals with the hope that he would recover, but he grew worse, and on August 4th he decided that he would return to his home in SaltLake. We concluded that one of us must go to Kanab to inform Prof. Ofthe state of affairs, and Clem in his big-hearted way offered to dothis, but we knew that his sense of locality was defective and that hemight get lost. Consequently we played on him an innocent trick which Imay now tell as he long ago went "across the range. " I planned with Andythat we three were to draw cuts for the honour of the ride and that Andywas to let me draw the fatal one. Clem was greatly disappointed. Jackwent on a chase after Nig and ran him down about sunset, for Nig was themost diplomatic mule that ever lived. Having no saddle I borrowed onefrom Lee who let me have it dubiously as he feared we might be layingsome trap. I gave him my word that while I had his saddle no man of ourswould molest him, and furthermore that they would befriend him. I rodeaway while he remarked that in the rocks he could defy an army, withregret still in his eyes, though he accepted my pledge. I got out a fewmiles before dark and slept by the roadside, with the distant murmur ofrapids speaking to me of the turmoil we were soon to pass through. Bynoon of the next day I was at Jacob's Pool, by half-past three at HouseRock Spring, and at night in Summit Valley where I camped. The day wasso hot that I could hardly bear my hand on my rifle barrel as it layacross my saddle. My lunch of jerked beef and bread I ate as I rodealong thus losing no time. The trail across the Kaibab was not often travelled, and it was dim andhard to follow, a faint horse track showing here and there, so I lost itseveral times but quickly picked it up again, and finally came out ofthe forest where I could see all the now familiar country to the westand north. About two o'clock I arrived at Kanab and rode to Jacob'shouse where Sister Louisa told me that the Major, Prof. , Mrs. Thompson, Professor De Motte, and George Adair had left that very morning for thesouth end of the Kaibab on the way to the Paria, and that Jones andLyman Hamblin the day before had started for the Paria with a waggonload of supplies drawn by a team of four broncho mules. Nig being verytired I thought I would rest till morning, when he rewarded myconsideration by eluding me till ten o'clock. This gave me so late astart that it was dark and rainy when I descended the east side of theKaibab, and I had to drag Nig down the 2000 feet in the gloom overboulders, bushes, ledges, or anything else that came, for I could seeonly a few feet and could not keep the trail. I reached House RockSpring at last and camped there. In the morning I discovered Jones andLyman down in the valley and joined them for breakfast, after which Ihelped them start. This was no easy matter, for the four mules they hadin harness, with one exception, were as wild as mountain sheep, havingonly recently been broken. Jones had been badly kicked three times, hishands were burned by the ropes, and there was a lively time whenever theexcited animals were put to the waggon. The road was new, only a waggontrack in reality, and the mules became more and more docile throughexhaustion as the day went on. At night they were far safer to handlethan in the morning. July 9th about dark we arrived at Lonely Dell, Lee stealing suspiciouslyin behind where I was walking, to ask me who the men were and what theywanted. We had a joyful time, especially as Steward had sent out a largebox of fine candy which we found in the mail and opened at once. Fourdays later the Major and his party came from the Kaibab and we hadvenison for supper. The Major said we would go on down the Colorado assoon as possible though the water was still very high. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon Near mouth of Shinumo Creek The river is in flood and the water is "colorado. " Sketch made in colouron the spot by F. S. Dellenbaugh. July 26, 1907. ] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 30: We had not yet learned to put a tight cover on the beanpot, and then by means of a big stone on the cover and a hot fire createan artificial atmosphere within it, thus raising the temperature. ] [Footnote 31: Lee was executed for the crime five years later, 1877. Others implicated were not punished, the execution of Lee "closing theincident. "] CHAPTER XIV A Company of Seven. --The _Nellie Powell_ Abandoned. --Into Marble Canyon. --Vasey's Paradise. --A Furious Descent to the Little Colorado. --A Mighty Fall in the Dismal Granite Gorge. --Caught in a Trap. --Upside Down. --A Deep Plunge and a Predicament. --At the Mouth of the Kanab. We now missed Steward, Cap, and Beaman more than ever, for we had beenunable to get anyone to take their places. The fact was our prospectivevoyage through Marble and Grand canyons was considered almost a forlornhope and nobody cared to take the risk. The plan had been to give me thesteering of the _Cañonita_, but now with three boats and only seven toman them it was plain that one must be abandoned. An examination of themall showed that the _Nellie Powell_ was in the poorest condition and shewas chosen for the sacrifice. She was put back in her shelter beingafterwards used by Lee for a desultory ferry business, that developed. About ten days before our arrival, the _Dean_ had been discovered by anewspaper man named J. H. Beadle, and used to cross to the north sidewhere he left her. This was how she happened to be there when we came. Beadle had denounced Lee and the Mormons in print and tried to concealhis identity by assuming the name of Hanson, a plan frustrated by hishaving some clothes, marked with his own name, laundered by SisterEmma. Lee was only amused by the incident. The _Dean_ was to be mannedby the same crew as before; Jones to steer, Jack at the after oars, I atthe forward pair, and the Major in his usual place on the middle deck. The _Cañonita_ was to have Prof. As steersman, Andy at the stroke oars, and Clem in the bow, Clem having gotten all over his inclination toleave and being determined now to see the end of the voyage before hedeparted. The same day that the Major and his party arrived, Jack and I, withJones steering, tried the _Dean_ by taking Mrs. Thompson, ProfessorDeMotte, and Lyman Hamblin up the river so that they might see what acanyon was like from a boat. Mrs. Thompson was so enthusiastic that shedeclared she wanted to accompany us. Prof. Took her as passenger on the_Cañonita_ about half-past four on Wednesday, August 14th, when we hadcompleted the sacking and packing of provisions, and with both boats randown through a small rapid or two about a mile and a half, where wecamped at the mouth of a little canyon down which the waggon-road came. Mrs. Thompson enjoyed the exhilaration of descending the swift rushingwater and still thought it attractive. I went to Lee's and brought downthe Major's arm-chair for our boat, and saw Fennemore who was very sick. We made our final preparations at this point, and I spent most ofThursday morning helping the Major get his papers in order so that if wedid not appear again his affairs could be readily settled. This requiredconsiderable writing, which I did, for the Major wrote slowly with hisleft hand, the only one he had. We dined with Lee, having the firstwatermelon of the season for dessert. Lee was most cordial and we couldnot have asked better treatment than he gave us the whole time we wereat Lonely Dell. In the afternoon our land outfit left for Kanab and wesaid a last good-bye to the men, who looked as if they never expected tosee us again. Only the "Tirtaan Aigles" remained, and there were butseven of these now. The next day we put the finishing touches on theboats, and while we were doing this our late fellow voyageur Beaman, anda companion named Carleton, passed on their way to the Moki Towns whereBeaman wanted to make photographs. All being ready the next day, Saturday, August 17th, we pushed out on the mighty Colorado about nineo'clock and by noon ran into Marble Canyon, nearly five miles, passingone small rapid and another of considerable size on a river about onehundred feet wide and extremely swift, with straight walls rapidlyincreasing from the fifty feet or so at the Paria. Marble Canyon whilediffering in name is but the upper continuation of the Grand Canyon, there being no line of demarkation other than a change in geologicalstructure and the entrance of the canyon of the Little Colorado. Thecombined length of the two divisions is 283 miles and the declivity isvery great. The altitude of the mouth of the Paria is 3170 feet, whilethe Grand Wash at the end of the Grand Canyon is 840 feet, leaving adescent of 2330 feet still before us. At our dinner camp, which was on a talus on the left, the walls wereabout 500 feet and quite precipitous, but I was able to climb out on theright to get a view of the surroundings. After dinner we went on in ourusual order, our boat the _Dean_ in advance and the _Cañonita_following. The photographing now devolved entirely on Jack and Clem;Andy as usual ran the culinary branch of the expedition, Jones and Prof. Meandered the river. We had not gone far after dinner before we wereclose upon a bad-looking rapid, a drop of about eighteen feet in adistance of 225, which we concluded to defeat by means of a portage onthe right-hand bank. As we knew exactly what to do no time was wastedand we were soon below, sweeping on with a stiff current which broughtus, in about ten miles from our morning start and five from the noonhalt, to a far worse rapid than the last, a fall of twenty-five feet infour or five hundred, with very straight walls six hundred feet high onboth sides. The Major concluded to leave the passage of it till the nextday, and we went into camp at the head. This was the rapid wheredisaster fell on the miners, ten in number, who in the spring had stolena lot of our things at the Paria and started down prospecting on a raft. They saved their lives but not another thing, and after a great deal ofhard work they succeeded by means of driftwood ladders in climbing tothe top of the walls and made their way to the settlement. This is nowcalled Soap Creek Rapid, being at the mouth of the canyon by which thelittle stream of that name reaches the river, --a little stream which attimes is a mighty torrent. In a small rapid following or in the finalportion of this, I believe, is the place where Frank M. Brown, leader ofthe Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway Survey, was drowned in1889. We began work on Sunday, August 18th, by making the portage and had notrouble of any kind, Jack and Clem making some photographs before wefinally said good-bye to the place. Continuing on our way we found theriver very narrow, not over seventy-five feet in many places and rangingfrom that to two hundred, with frequent whirlpools strong enough toswing our boats entirely around. Before dinner-time we had put fivelarge rapids behind, and then we halted under a ledge on the left ashort distance above a very ugly and difficult prospect. There was anexceedingly heavy descent and a soft sandstone being at the river marginit was worn away, giving little chance for a footing by which to make aportage. The Major and Prof. Decided that we could run it safely, andafter dinner we shot into it, both boats going through in fine style. Just below was another smaller one that was vanquished easily, and wewent swiftly on down the swirling, booming current. Rain fell atintervals to continue our saturation, and with four more rapids, all ofwhich we ran, one having quite a heavy fall, there was little chance forus to dry out. At one point we passed an enormous rock which had droppedfrom the cliffs overhead and almost blocked the whole river. Then wearrived at a huge rapid whose angry tones cried so distinctly, "Norunning through here, " that we did not hesitate but began a let downforthwith, and when that was accomplished we camped at the foot of itfor the night, having come eleven and three-eighths miles during theday. The rapid was extremely noisy and the roaring reverberated back andforth from cliff to cliff as it ascended to the top, 1800 feet, toescape into the larger air. The walls had two or three terraces and werenot over three quarters of a mile apart at the summit, the cliffportions being nearly or quite perpendicular. The rocks, of all sizes, which were legion at each rapid, were frequently dovetailed into eachother by the action of the current and so neatly joined in a serratedline that they were practically one. [Illustration: Thompson Marble Canyon. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. ] The rapidity with which the water went down and the walls went up as wecut into the plateau gave a vivid impression of descending into the verybowels of the earth, and this impression seemed daily to intensify. OnMonday, August 19th, the same conditions prevailed, the walls being ofmarble mostly vertical from the water's edge for about seven hundredfeet, and then rising by four terraces to two thousand feet, all stainedred by the disintegration of iron-stained rocks overhead though themarble is a grey colour. We only made four and one-quarter miles andestablished Camp 90 on the left, just below a big rapid and in sight ofanother, with a record for the whole day of four rapids run, threepassed by let-downs, and one overcome by a portage. The next day we didnot accomplish a much greater distance, only about nine miles, but wewere highly successful in our encounters with the enemy, running no lessthan twelve big rapids and making a portage at another to round out thedozen on the baker's proverbial basis. The average width of the canyonat the top was about one and a quarter miles, while the breadth of thewater itself plunging along the bottom was not more than 125 feet, andthe total height of wall was 2500 feet. We had marble at the rivermargin most of the day, a greyish crystalline rock flutedmultitudinously in places by the action of high water and sometimespolished like glass. While this was a grey rock the entire effect of thecanyon, for the reason stated above, was red. On the right bank we madeour camp on some sand at the mouth of a gulch, and immediately put onour dry clothes from the boats. Not far below on the same side was whatappeared to be a vast ruined tower. Around the indentations whichanswered for crumbling windows bunches of mosses and ferns were draped, while from the side, about one hundred feet up from the river, clearsprings broke forth to dash down amidst verdure in silvery skeins. Thewhole affair formed a striking and unusual picture, the only green thatso far had been visible in the canyon landscape, for the walls frombrink to river were absolutely barren of trees or any apparentvegetation. On the former trip the Major had named the place after abotanist friend of his, Vasey's (Vaysey) Paradise, and this was nowrecorded in our notes. All day long we had seen in the magnificent wallsbesides caverns and galleries resemblances to every form ofarchitectural design, turrets, forts, balconies, castles, and a thousandstrange and fantastic suggestions from the dark tower against whichChilde Roland with his slug-horn blew defiance, to the airy structuresevolved by the wonderful lamp of Aladdin. Starting down again on Wednesday morning we ran past the Paradise andheard a little bird singing there amidst the spray and mosses, adelicate note seeming out of place amidst such gigantic desolation. Onlythe boom of great cannon or the tone of some enormous organ pipe wouldbe correct with the surroundings. The walls at the water's edge werevertical for long distances up to eight hundred feet, and being now inall about three thousand feet and not a great ways apart, the outlookahead was something almost overpowering in its deep suggestion ofmysterious and untold realms to come. On the first voyage it would havebeen easy to persuade oneself that the river was soon to becomesubterranean, but the Major having solved the enigma, we could look withindifference on the threatening prospect. Yet the walls neverthelessseemed to have a determination to close together overhead as we lookeddown the descending waters before us, with cliff mounting on cliff andthe distance from one to the other appearing so very small. Deep andsombre were the shadows at the bends, and the imagination needed no spurto picture there rapids, falls, cataracts, of giant proportions. We madenearly eleven miles and ran ten very big rapids, meeting with noaccident, though one was particularly violent and filled us half full ofwater in the fierce breakers. The stage of water was exactly right forthis stretch; a lower stage would certainly have given us far moretrouble. Our stop for the night, Camp 92, was made on a wide sandbank onthe left, with some mesquite growing nearby, our first acquaintance withthis tree on the river. We now were getting on so well and were socomfortable that we felt quite happy and Jack as usual entertained uswith several songs. The next day, Thursday the 22d, Jack and Clem tooksome photographs in the morning and I hunted fossils for the Major inthe limestone shales which had run up under the marble. By nine o'clockwe were packed up again in our usual good form, everything in the rubbersacks, hatches firmly battened down, life-preservers ready, and we setforth for another day's battle. There were numerous large rapids and theimpetuous river, turbid and grim, rushed down with a continuity thatkept us alert every instant. Though we descended with terrific velocity, nothing gave us any particular trouble before dinner, which we ate inthe shade of a mesquite on the right at the mouth of a couple of giantgulches. Here we discovered a large patch of cacti loaded with the redprickly pears or cactus apples, as we called them. They wereripe, --seeming to me to be half way between a fig and a tomato, --andvery welcome for dessert, as we had eaten no fresh fruit since awatermelon brought along as far as the first noon camp. All thevegetation was different from that of the upper canyons and of a kindindicating a hotter climate; cacti, yucca, etc. In the afternoon thewalls became greater, the river ran swifter, the descent seemed almostwithout a break, for rapid followed rapid in such quick succession thatit was next to impossible to separate them one from another. At times wecould barely maintain control of the boats so powerful and uninterruptedwas the turbulent sweep of the great narrow flood. At one place as wewere being hurled along at a tremendous speed we suddenly perceivedimmediately ahead of us and in such a position that we could not avoiddashing into it, a fearful commotion of the waters, indicating manylarge rocks near the surface. The Major stood on the middle deck, hislife-preserver in place, and holding by his left hand to the arm of thewell secured chair to prevent being thrown off by the lurching of theboat, peered into the approaching maelstrom. It looked to him like theend for us and he exclaimed calmly, "By God, boys, we're gone!" Withterrific impetus we sped into the seething, boiling turmoil, expectingto feel a crash and to have the _Dean_ crumble beneath us, but insteadof that unfortunate result she shot through smoothly without a scratch, the rocks being deeper than appeared by the disturbance on the surface. We had no time to think over this agreeable delivery, for on came therapids or rather other rough portions of the unending declivityrequiring instant and continuous attention, the Major rapidly giving theorders, Left, right, hard on the right, steady, hard on the left, _hardon the left_, h-a-r-d on the left, pull away strong, etc. , Jones aiding our oars by his long steering sweep. Rowing for progresswas unnecessary; the oars were required only for steering or for pullingas fast as we could to avoid some bad place. At the same time the walls constantly gained height as the torrent cutdown its bed till both together, with the rapidity of our movement, fairly made one dizzy. In turning a bend we saw back through a gulch thesummit of the Kaibab's huge cliffs, the total height above our headsbeing over five thousand feet; a sublime vista. The immediate walls ofMarble Canyon were here about 3500 feet, not all vertical but rising inbuttresses, terraces, and perpendicular faces, while immediately at theriver they were now generally flanked by talus or broken ledges givingample footing, as seen in the illustration opposite page 219. Words arenot adequate to describe this particular day in Marble Canyon; it mustbe experienced to be appreciated and I will not strive further to conveymy impressions. As the sun sank to the western edge of the outer worldwe were rushing down a long straight stretch of canyon, and the colossalprecipices looming on all sides, as well as dead ahead across ourpathway, positively appeared about to overwhelm the entire river bytheir ponderous magnificence, burnished at their summits by the dyingsun. On, down the headlong flood our faithful boats carried us to thegloom that seemed to be the termination of all except subterraneanprogress, but at the very bottom of this course there was a bend to thewest, and we found ourselves at the mouth of a deep side canyon comingin from the east, with a small stream flowing into the big river. Thiswas the mouth of the Little Colorado and the end at last of MarbleCanyon, one of the straightest, deepest, narrowest, and most majesticchasms of the whole long series. It also had more wall rising verticallyfrom the water's edge than any other canyon we had encountered. Our distance for the day was eighteen miles with eighteen rapids, onenearly three miles long and all following each other so closely theywere well-nigh continuous. We ran seventeen and made one let-down. Itwas a glorious day and a fitting preparation for our entrance into thenext stupendous canyon which the Major styled the "Sockdologer of theWorld, " the now famous Grand Canyon. [32] Our altitude was 2690 feet, giving a descent in the sixty-five and one-half miles of Marble Canyonof 480 feet, leaving 1850 feet still to be overcome before we couldreach the mouth of the Grand Wash and the end of the Grand Canyon. Icounted sixty-three rapids in Marble Canyon, Prof. Sixty-nine. We madefour portages and let down by line six times. [Illustration: Canyon of the Little Colorado. Photograph by C. Barthelmess. ] Our Camp 93 was on the left bank of the Little Colorado, and there weremained for Friday, August 23d, to reconnoitre the neighbourhood, andto give Prof. An opportunity to get the latitude and longitude. TheLittle Colorado was a red stream about sixty feet wide and four or fivedeep, salty and impossible to drink. The Great Colorado was also muddyand not altogether palatable, for one's hand dipped in and allowed todry became encrusted with sediment; but the water otherwise was pure. The river had been rapidly rising for several days and was still comingup so that we were likely to have in the Grand Canyon more water than werequired. I climbed up the wall on the north side of the Little Coloradothinking I might be able to reach the summit, but when about half-way upI met vast and vertical heights that were impossible and returned tocamp. The next morning, Saturday, August 24th, we packed up and enteredthe Grand Canyon proper on an easy river, making about five miles inhalf an hour and putting behind six rapids all small, camping at thehead of one that was more threatening. Here a little creek came in fromthe right, or west, near camp. The canyon was wider than above, and wecould see the summits around that were six thousand feet above theriver, but some miles back. In the morning I made a geological sketch, and in the afternoon I climbed a high peak and put in some of thetopography. The next morning we crossed the river to examine a largeigneous butte where we found a small vein of copper ore, and afterdinner Prof. And I climbed a couple of peaks and did some triangulating. Monday the 26th found us still at Camp 94 to further investigate thesurroundings, and the Major, Prof. , Jones, and I climbed up on the northabout 2600 feet in order to get a better idea of the several valleyswhich here seemed to compose the bottom of the great chasm, and did notreach camp till after dark. Everything now developed on a still largerand grander scale; we saw before us an enormous gorge, very wide at thetop, which could engulf an ordinary mountain range and lose it withinits vast depths and ramifications. Multitudinous lofty mesas, buttes, and pinnacles began to appear, each a mighty mountain in itself, butmore or less overwhelmed by the greater grandeur of the Cyclopeanenvironment. Tuesday, August 27th, after Prof. Had put a new tube in the secondbarometer which had somehow been broken, we pushed off once more to seewhat the day would develop. The rapid just below camp we ran througheasily and then made swift progress for seven miles, running nine morerapids, two rather bad ones. The _Cañonita_ grounded once on a shoal butgot off without damage. Where we stopped for dinner we caught sight oftwo mountain sheep drinking, and Andy and I got our guns out of thecabins as quickly as possible and started after them, but they flew awaylike birds of the air. Near this point there was a small abandoned hutof mesquite logs. We went into camp farther down on the left forinvestigations, the Major and I going up the river and finding a smallsalty creek which we followed for a time on an old trail, the Majorstudying the geology and collecting specimens of the rocks, which wecarried back to camp, arriving after dark. The geology and topographyhere were complicated and particularly interesting, and we ought to havebeen able to spend more days, but the food question, as well as time, was a determining factor in our movements, and with only two boats ourrations would carry us with necessary stops only to the mouth of theKanab Canyon where our pack-train would meet us on September 4th. Therewas no other place above Diamond Creek known at that time, exceptperhaps the spot near Mount Trumbull, where supplies could be broughtin. On Wednesday we ran two or three miles and stopped for ourphotographers to get some views opposite a rust-coloured sandstone. Wealso had dinner at this place and then continued the descent. Afterrunning four rapids successfully, making a let-down at another, and aportage over the upper end of a sixth we were ready, having made in allsix miles, to go into camp part way down the last, one of the heaviestfalls we had so far encountered. It was perhaps half a mile long, with adeclivity of at least forty feet, studded by numerous enormous boulders. A heavy rain began during our work of getting below, and our clothesbeing already wet the air became very chilly. We had to carry thecargoes only a short distance, with no climbing, and there was ampleroom so the portage was not difficult in that respect. But though wecould manoeuvre the empty boats down along the shore amidst the bigrocks, they were exceedingly heavy for our small band, and in slidingthem down between the huge masses, with the water pouring around andoften into them, we sometimes had as much as we could do to manage them, each man being obliged to strain his muscle to the limit. Jack from thiscause hurt his back so badly that he could not lift at all, and overcomeby the sudden weakness and pain he came near sinking into the swiftriver at the stern of the _Dean_ where he happened at the moment to beworking. I heard his cry and clambered over to seize him as quickly as Icould, helping him to shore, where we did all that was possible for hiscomfort. As we were going no farther that day he was able to rest, andin the morning felt much better, though his back was still weak. Andytook his place in our boat to run the lower end of the rapid, which waseasily done. We landed below on the same side, enabling Andy to go backto help bring down the _Cañonita_, while Jack walked along the rocks towhere we were. Here we remained for a couple of hours while I climbed upfor the Major and measured the "Red Beds, " and Jack rested again, improving very fast. When we were ready to go on his trouble had almostdisappeared. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From just below the Little Colorado. Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872. ] A dark granite formation had run up at the foot of the last fall and itrose rapidly higher, hemming the water in with steep, forbidding cliffsclose together. The river became much narrower and swirled with anoily-looking current around the buttresses of granite that thrustthemselves from one side or the other into it. The declivity was notgreat and the torrent was otherwise placid. After three miles of thisominous docility, just as the dinner hour was near and the threateningblack granite had risen to one thousand feet above the water, we heard adeep, sullen roar ahead and from the boats the whole river seemed tovanish instantly from earth. At once we ran in on the right to a smallarea of great broken rocks that protruded above the water at the foot ofthe wall, and stepping out on these we could look down on one of themost fearful places I ever saw or ever hope to see under likecircumstances, --a place that might have been the Gate to Hell thatSteward had mentioned. We were near the beginning of a tremendous fall. The narrow river dropped suddenly and smoothly away, and then, beaten tofoam, plunged and boomed for a third of a mile through a descent of fromeighty to one hundred feet, the enormous waves leaping twenty or thirtyfeet into the air and sending spray twice as high. [33] On each side werethe steep, ragged granitic walls, with the tumultuous waters lashing andpounding against them in a way that precluded all idea of portage orlet-down. It needed no second glance to tell us that there was only oneway of getting below. If the rocks did not stop us we could "cross toKilliloo, " and when a driving rain had ceased Andy gathered the fewsticks of driftwood available for a fire, by which he prepared somedinner in advance of the experiment. Jack and Clem took three negatives, and when the dinner was disposed of we stowed all loose articles snuglyaway in the cabins, except a camp-kettle in each standing-room to bailwith, and then battening down the hatches with extra care, and makingeverything shipshape, we pulled the _Dean_ up-stream, leaving the_Cañonita_ and her crew to watch our success or failure and profit byit. The Major had on his life-preserver and so had Jones, but Jack and Iput ours behind our seats, where we could catch them up quickly, forthey were so large we thought they impeded the handling of the oars. Jack's back had fortunately now recovered, so that he was able to rowalmost his usual stroke. We pulled up-stream about a quarter of a mileclose to the right-hand wall, in order that we might get well into themiddle of the river before making the great plunge, and then we turnedour bow out and secured the desired position as speedily as possible, heading down upon the roaring enemy--roaring as if it would surelyswallow us at one gulp. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. Running the Sockdologer. From a sketch afterwards by F. S. Dellenbaugh. ] My back being towards the fall I could not see it, for I could not turnround while waiting every instant for orders. Nearer and nearer camethe angry tumult; the Major shouted "Back water!" there was a suddendropping away of all support; then the mighty waves smote us. The boatrose to them well, but we were flying at twenty-five miles an hour andat every leap the breakers rolled over us. "Bail!" shouted theMajor, --"Bail for your lives!" and we dropped the oars to bail, thoughbailing was almost useless. The oars could not get away, for they hadrawhide rings nailed around near the handle to prevent them fromslipping through the rowlocks. The boat rolled and pitched like a shipin a tornado, and as she flew along Jack and I, who faced backwards, could look up under the canopies of foam pouring over gigantic blackboulders, first on one side, then on the other. Why we did not land ontop of one of these and turn over I don't know, unless it might be thatthe very fury of the current causes a recoil. However that may be, westruck nothing but the waves, the boats riding finely and certainlyleaping at times almost half their length out of water, to burythemselves quite as far at the next lunge. If you will take a watch andcount by it ninety seconds, you will probably have about the time wewere in this chaos, though it seemed much longer to me. Then we werethrough, and immediately took advantage of an eddy on one side to lie toand bail out, for the boat was full of water. Setting her to rights asquickly as we could, we got ready to make a dash for the crew of the_Cañonita_ in case she fared worse than we did. We looked anxiously forher to appear, and presently, at the top of what seemed to us now to bea straight wall of foam, her small white bulk hung for an instant andthen vanished from our sight in the mad flood. Soon appearing at thebottom uninjured, she ran in to where we were waiting. The _Cañonita_, being lighter than our boat, did not ship as much water as in some otherplaces, and altogether we agreed that notwithstanding its great descentand furious aspect the passage was not more difficult than we had madein several previous rapids. Continuing on down the narrow and gloomy granite gorge, we encounteredabout a mile farther down a singular rapid, which turned the _Cañonita_completely around. About four o'clock we found ourselves before anothertremendous fall, and a very ugly one. Landing on the left, we discoveredthat to be the wrong side, and crossed over to a little cove wherethere was a patch of gravel, surrounded by vertical walls, the crossingbeing easily made because the water seemed to slacken before the plunge. We did not intend to run the place if it could be avoided, and the southside gave no opportunity whatever for a portage, while the north sideoffered no very easy course. Prof. Declared this to be one of the worstrapids we had seen, and we were now about two hundred feet above thehead of it, with the vertical cliffs between. Immediately at thebeginning of the drop on the same side that we were on was a pile ofboulders, and our plan was to engineer the boats by lines from where wehad landed down to these rocks, from which we believed we could workaround over the rocks into an alcove there was there, and thence go downtill we reached the lower part of the descent, through which we couldnavigate. Consequently several of the men entered one boat, and welowered her from the stern of the second as far as her line would reach, and then lowered the second till the first lodged in the rocks at thedesired point at the head of the fall. Then, pulling up the second boat, we who had remained got on board, and by clinging to the projections ofthe wall, the current close in being quite slow, we succeeded inarriving alongside the first boat. The next thing was to get around intothe alcove. The sky above was heavy and rain began to come downsteadily, making the dark granite blacker and intensifying the gloomycharacter of the locality. By hard work we finally got our boats acrossthe rocks and down about two hundred feet farther into a cove, wherethey rested easily. Up to this time we had made in all, during the day, seven and one-quarter miles. As night was now dropping fast we had tomake camp on a pile of broken granite, where a close search yielded anarmful or two of small pieces of driftwood, all wet. Under a rockseveral dry sticks were discovered, and by their aid a fire soon blazedup by which the indomitable Andy proceeded to get supper. There was nouse changing wet clothes for dry ones from the rubber bags as long asthe rain fell, and it increased till water was dashing off the walls instreams. The thunder roared and crashed as if it were knocking thecliffs about to rearrange them all, and a deluge swept down in whichAndy's struggling little fire died with hardly a sputter. The only thingremaining for us to do was to all stand with our backs against the footof the wall, which was still warm from the day, and wait for somethingelse to happen. The bread-pan seen through the dim and dismal light wasa tempestuous lake, with an island of dough in it, while Andy theundaunted stood grimly gazing at it, the rain dribbling from his hat andshoulders till he resembled the fabled ferryman of the River Styx. Thesituation was so ludicrous that every one laughed, and the Weather Godfinding that we were not downcast slackened the downpour immediately. Then we put some oars against the wall and stretched a paulin to protectour noble chef, who finally got the wet firewood once more ignited, andsucceeded in getting the bread almost baked and the coffee nearly hotand some dried peaches almost stewed. The rain ceasing, we hurriedlydonned dry clothes and applied ourselves to the destruction of theseviands, which tasted better than might be imagined. Each man then tookhis blankets, and, selecting rocks that in his judgment were thesoftest, he went to sleep. There was another alcove about three hundred yards below our camp, andin the morning, Friday, August 30th, we proceeded to work our way downto this, several men clambering along a ledge about 150 feet above thewater with the line, while I remained each time in the boat below withan oar to keep the bow in against the wall, so that she could not takethe current on the wrong side--that is, on the side next to thewall--and cut out into the river. In this way we got both boats down tothe alcove, whence we intended to pull out into the current and run thelower portion of the rapid. It was only noon when we reached the place, but then we discovered that both boats had been so pounded that theybadly needed repairs--in fact, it was imperative to halt there for thispurpose, --and we hauled them out on a patch of broken rocks, thirty orforty feet square, filling the curve of the alcove and bounded byvertical rocks and the river. While at work on them we happened tonotice that the river was rapidly rising, and, setting a mark, the ratewas found to be three feet an hour. The rocks on which we were standingand where all the cargo was lying were being submerged. We looked aroundfor some way to get up the cliff, as it was now too late to think ofleaving. About fifteen feet above the top of the rocks on which we wereworking there was a shelf five or six feet wide, to which some of themen climbed, and we passed up every article to them. When the repairswere done darkness was filling the great gorge. By means of lines fromabove and much hard lifting we succeeded in raising the boats up theside of the cliff, till they were four or five feet above the highestrocks of the patch on which we stood. This insured their safety for thetime being, and if the river mounted to them we intended to haul themstill higher. The next thing was to find a place to sleep. By walkingout on a ledge from the shelf where our goods were we could turn ajutting point above the rushing river by clinging closely to the rocks, and walk back on a shelf on the other side to a considerable area offinely broken rocks, thirty feet above the torrent, where there was roomenough for a camp. Rain fell at intervals, and the situation wasdecidedly unpromising. While Andy and the others were getting the cookoutfit and rations around the point, I climbed the cliffs hunting forwood. I found small pieces of driftwood lodged behind mesquite bushesfully one hundred feet above the prevailing stage of water. I collectedquite an armful of half-dead mesquite, which has the advantage of beingso compact that it makes a fire hot as coal, and little is needed tocook by. Supper was not long in being despatched, and then, every manfeeling about worn out, we put on dry clothes, the rain having ceased, and went to sleep on the rocks. Before doing so we climbed back toexamine the boats, and found the river was not coming up farther, thoughit had almost completely covered the rocks. Saturday, the 21st of August, 1872, was about the gloomiest morning Iever saw. Rain was falling, the clouds hung low over our heads like alid to the box-like chasm in the black, funereal granite enclosing us, while the roar of the big rapid seemed to be intensified. We felt likerats in a trap. Eating breakfast as quickly as possible, we goteverything together again on the shelf and lowered the boats. Though theriver was not rising, it beat and surged into the cove in a way thatmade the boats jump and bounce the moment they touched the water. Toprevent their being broken by pounding, one man at each steadied themwhile the others passed down the sacks and instrument boxes. Then it wasseen that either a new leak had sprung in the _Dean_ amidships or a holehad not been caulked, for a stream as wide as two fingers was spurtinginto the middle cabin. To repair her now meant hauling both boats backagainst the side of the cliff and spending another day in this trap, with the chance of the river rising much higher before night so that wemight not be able to get away at all--at least not for days. For aninstant the Major thought of pulling the boats out again, but as hisquick judgment reviewed the conditions he exclaimed, "By God, we'llstart! Load up!" It was the rarest thing for him to use an oath, and Iremember only one other occasion when he did so--in Marble Canyon whenhe thought we were going to smash. We threw the things in as fast as wecould, jammed a bag of flour against the leak in the _Dean_, batteneddown the hatches, threw our rifles into the bottom of the standing roomswhere the water and sand washed unheeded over them, and jumped to ouroars. The crew of the _Cañonita_ held our stern till the bow swung outinto the river, and then at the signal Jack and I laid to with all ourstrength--to shoot clear of an enormous rock about fifty feet belowagainst which the fierce current was dashing. The _Dean_ was so nearlywater-logged that she was sluggish in responding to the oars, but weswept past the rock safely and rolled along down the river in the tailof the rapid with barely an inch of gunwale to spare, --in fact I thoughtthe boat might sink. As soon as we saw a narrow talus on the right weran in and landed. When the _Cañonita_ was ready to start one of Clem's oars could not befound, and Prof. Had to delay to cut down one of the extras for him. Then they got their boat up as far as they could, and while Prof. AndAndy kept her from pounding to pieces, Clem got in, bailed out, and tookhis oars. Prof. Then climbed in at the stern, but the current was sostrong that it pulled Andy off his feet and he was just able to get on, the boat drifting down stern first toward the big rock. Prof. Concludedto let the stern strike and then try to throw the boat around into theriver. By this time Andy had got hold of his oars, and the eddy seemedto carry them up-stream some twenty-five feet, so perverse andcapricious is the Colorado. They swung the bow to starboard into themain current, and with a couple of strong oar-strokes the dreaded rockwas cleared, and down the _Cañonita_ came to us over the long waves likea hunted deer. We unloaded the _Dean_ and pulled her out for repairs, but it was after four o'clock when we were able to go on again with afairly tight boat. Then for eight miles the river was a continuous rapidbroken by eight heavy falls, but luckily there were no rocks in any ofthem at this stage of water, and we were able to dash through one afteranother at top speed, stopping only once for examination. Two of theserapids were portages on the former trip, proving the ease and advantageof high water in some places; but the disadvantages are much greater. Through a very narrow canyon on the right we caught a glimpse of apretty creek, but we were going so fast the view was brief andimperfect. At 5:15 o'clock we ran up to a wide sandbank on which grew asolitary willow tree and there Camp 99 was made. For a space the innercanyon was much wider than above and the mouth of Bright Angel Creek wasjust below us; a locality now well known because a trail from the HotelTovar on the south rim comes down at this point. The name was applied bythe Major on his first trip to offset the name Dirty Devil appliedfarther up. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From Top of Granite, South Side near Bright Angel Creek. ] The next day was Sunday, September 1st, and after the Major had climbedthe south wall for observations we started once more on a powerfulcurrent. For the first three miles there was a continuous rapid with noopportunity to land. We dashed through waves that tossed us badly andfilled the boats half full and then half full again before we had achance to bail. In fifteen minutes we made the three miles and a halfmile more, to arrive at a heavy rapid, which we ran and in two milesreached another with fearful waves, which we also ran. In one Jones wasoverbalanced by his oar hitting the top of a big wave behind the boatand he was knocked out. He clung by his knees and hands, his back in thewater, and the boat careened till I thought she would go over. We couldnot move to help him without upsetting and were compelled to leave himto his own resources. In some way he succeeded in scrambling back. Thewaves were tremendous and sometimes seemed to come from all directionsat once. There were whirlpools, too, that turned us round in spite ofevery effort to prevent it. The river was about one hundred and fiftyfeet wide. After an extremely strenuous morning we halted on the rightfor dinner, continuing as soon as we had disposed of it. Presently wearrived at a sharp fall of about twenty feet, where we made a portage, and waited at the foot for the photographers to take some negatives andalso for repairing the _Cañonita_. Finally it was decided to camp onthe spot. It was Camp 100. Our record for the day was a trifle overseven miles with nine rapids run and one portage. Almost the first thing in the morning of September 2d was a portage, after which we had fair water for two or three miles, and then reached avery heavy fall, where we landed on the left and had dinner beforemaking another portage. This accomplished, we proceeded on a river stillrising and ran a great many bad rapids, some of them having tremendousfalls. In one the fierce current set against the cliff so strongly thatwe were carried within an oar's length of it, notwithstanding our severeeffort to avoid so close an acquaintance with the rough wall. Evenbetween rapids the velocity of the water was extremely high and we flewalong at terrific speed, while in the huge waves of the rapids the boatsleaped and plunged with startling violence. Toward night a sudden haltwas made on the left to examine a bad-looking place half a mile below. The Major and Prof. Tried to climb where they could get a good view ofit, but they failed. The Major said we would run it in the morning, though Prof. Was dubious about the feasibility of doing so successfullyand said he thought it about the worst place we had yet seen. We campedon a rocky talus where we were. A small sandbank was found nearby forour beds, and we made another discovery, a small pool of clear, purewater, a rare treat after the muddy Colorado which we had been drinkingfor so long. Twenty rapids were placed to our credit for this one day ina trifle over fifteen miles, and we felt that we were vanquishing theGrand Canyon with considerable success. Our life now was so strenuous every hour of the day that our songs wereforgotten, and when night came every man was so used up that as soon assupper was over rest and sleep were the only things that interested us. Though our beds were as hard and rough as anything could be, we sleptwith the intensity of the rocks themselves, and it never seemed morethan a few minutes before we were aroused by the Major's rising signal"Oh-ho, boys!" and rose to our feet to pack the blankets in the rubberbags, sometimes with a passing thought as to whether we would ever takethem out again. For my part, never before nor since have I been sotired. One night when the Major called us to look out for the boats Idid not hear him and no one waked me so I slept on, learning about itonly the next morning. Our food supply was composed partly of jerkedbeef, and as this could not be put in rubber because of the grease itbecame more or less damp and there developed in it a peculiar kind ofworm, the largest about an inch long, with multitudinous legs. Therewere a great many of them and they gave the beef a queer taste. In orderto clear the sacks as far as possible of these undesirable denizens Iseveral times emptied them on wide smooth rocks, and while the wormswere scrambling around I scraped up the beef without many of them, butcould not get rid of all. Andy's method of cooking this beef was to makea gravy with bacon fat and scorched flour and then for a few momentsstew the beef in the gravy. Ordinarily this made a very palatable dishbut the peculiar flavour of the beef now detracted from it, though wewere so hungry that we could eat anything without a query, and ourdiminishing supply of rations forbade the abandonment of the valuablebeef. When we arose on the morning of September 3d the dubious rapid wastossing its huge waves exactly as on the night before and humanityseemed to be out of the reckoning. By eight o'clock we were ready forit, and with everything in good trim we pushed off. The current wasstrong from the start, and a small rapid just below camp gave additionalspeed, so that we were soon bearing down on the big one with wildvelocity. The river dropped away abruptly, to rise again in a successionof fearful billows whose crests leaped and danced high in air as ifrejoicing at the prospect of annihilating us. Just then the Majorchanged his mind as to running the place, for now standing on the boat'sdeck he could see it better than before from the region of our camp. Heordered us to pull hard on our left, intending to land at a spot thatwas propitious on the left or south bank, but no sooner had he giventhis command than he perceived that no landing above the fall waspossible. He gave another order which put us straight in the middleagain and down we flew upon the descent. The Major as usual had put onhis life-preserver and I think Jones had on his, but Jack and I, as wasour custom, placed ours inflated immediately behind our seats, notwishing to be hampered by them. The plunge was exceedingly sharp anddeep, and then we found ourselves tossing like a chip in a frightfulchaos of breakers which almost buried us, though the boats rose to themas well as any craft possibly could. I bailed with a camp kettle rapidlyand Jack did the same, but the boat remained full to the gunwales as wewere swept on. We had passed the worst of it when, just as the _Dean_mounted a giant wave at an angle perhaps of forty or fifty degrees, thecrest broke in a deluge against the port bow with a loud slap. In aninstant we were upside-down going over to starboard. I threw up my handinstinctively to grasp something, and luckily caught hold of a spare oarwhich was carried slung on the side, and by this means I pulled myselfabove water. My hat was pasted down over my eyes. Freeing myself fromthis I looked about. Bottom up the boat was clear of the rapid andsweeping on down with the swift, boiling current toward a dark bend. The_Cañonita_ was nowhere to be seen. No living thing was visible. Thenarrow black gorge rose in sombre majesty to the everlasting sky. Whatwas a mere human life or two in the span of eternity? I was aboutpreparing to climb up on the bottom of the boat when I perceived Jonesclinging to the ring in the stern, and in another second the Major andJack shot up alongside as if from a gun. The whole party had been kepttogether in a kind of whirlpool, and the Major and Jack had been pulleddown head first till, as is the nature of these suctions on theColorado, it suddenly changed to an upward force and threw them out intothe air. There was no time to lose, for we did not wish to go far in thiscondition; another rapid might be in waiting around the corner. Jack andI carefully got up on the bottom, leaving the Major at the bow and Jonesat the stern, and leaning over we took hold of the starboard gunwaleunder water, and throwing ourselves back quickly together we brought the_Dean_ up on her keel, though she came near rolling clear over the otherway. She was even full of water, but the cabins supported her. Jackhelped me in and then I balanced his effort so as not to capsize again. The bailing kettles were gone, but as our hats had strangely enoughremained on our heads through it all we bailed with them as fast aspossible for a few seconds till we lowered the water sufficiently tomake it safe to get the others on board. The Major came aft along thegunwale and I helped him in, then Jack helped Jones. The oars, fortunately, had not come out of the locks, thanks to our excellentarrangement, and grasping them, without trying to haul in the bow linetrailing a hundred feet in the water, we pulled hard for a slight eddyon the left where we perceived a footing on the rocks, and as soon as wewere near enough I caught up the rope, made the leap, and threw thebight over a projection, where I held the boat while Jack and Jonesbailed rapidly and set things in order so that we could go to theassistance of the _Cañonita_. The Major's Jurgenssen chronometer hadstopped at 8:26:30 from the wetting. The _Cañonita_, being more lightly laden than the _Dean_, and also notmeeting the peculiar coincidence of mounting a wave at the instant itbroke, came down with no more damage than the loss of three oars and thebreaking of a rowlock. Probably if the Major had sat down on the deckinstead of in the chair we might also have weathered the storm. [34]About a mile and a half below we made a landing at a favourable spot onthe right, where the cargoes were spread out to dry and the boats wereoverhauled, while the Major and I climbed up the wall to where hedesired to make a geological investigation. We joked him a good dealabout his zeal in going to examine the geology at the bottom of theriver, but as a matter of fact he came near departing by that road toanother world. We were now in an exceedingly difficult part of the granite gorge, for, at the prevailing stage of water, landings were either highly precariousor not possible at all, so we could not examine places before running, and could not always make a portage where we deemed it necessary. Therewere also all manner of whirlpools and bad places. Starting on aboutthree o'clock we descended several rapids in about six miles, when wesaw one ahead that looked particularly forbidding. The granite came downalmost vertically to the water, projecting in huge buttresses thatformed a succession of little bays, especially on the left, where wemanoeuvred in and out, keeping close against the rocks, the currentthere being slack. The plan was for me to be ready, on turning the lastpoint, to jump out on some rocks we had noticed from above not far fromthe beginning of the rapid. As we crept around the wall I stood up withthe bight of the line in one hand, while Jack pulled in till we began todrift down stern foremost alongshore. At the proper moment I made myleap exactly calculated. Unluckily at the instant the capriciousColorado threw a "boil" up between the bow and the flat rock I wasaiming at, turning the bow out several feet, and instead of landingwhere I intended I disappeared in deep water. I clung to the line andthe acceleration of the boat's descent quickly pulled me back to thesurface. She was gliding rapidly past more rocks and the Major jumpedfor them with the purpose of catching the rope, but they were soisolated and covered with rushing water that he had all he could do totake care of himself. Jones then tried the same thing, but with the sameresult. Jack stuck to his post. I went hand over hand to the bow as fastas I could, and reaching the gunwale I was on board in a second. One ofmy oars had somehow come loose, but Jack had caught it and now handed itto me. We took our places and surveyed the chances. Apparently we werein for running the rapid stern foremost and we prepared for it, but inthe middle of the stream there was a rock of most gigantic proportionssloping up the river in such a way that the surges alternately rolledupon it and then slid back. Partly up the slope we were drawn by thispower, and on the down rush the boat turned and headed diagonally justright for reaching the left bank. We saw our opportunity and, pullingwith every muscle, lodged the _Dean_ behind a huge boulder at the verybeginning of the main rapid, where I made the line fast in the twinkleof an eye. Meanwhile the Major had hastily scrambled up to where hecould see down the canyon, and he heard Jack's hearty shout of "Allright!" Lowering the _Dean_ a couple of rods farther to a sandbank atthe mouth of a gulch we went into camp feeling that we had done enoughriver work for one day, and the _Cañonita's_ crew without accidentlowered down to the same place before Andy had supper ready. My hat hadcome off in my deep plunge and beyond this I did not have one. Near bywas a small clear spring that gave us another treat of palatable water, the Colorado now being muddier than ever, as it was still on the rise, coming up three feet more while we were here. The entire day's run waseight and one-eighth miles. The Major and Prof. Succeeded in gettingdown three miles on foot to reconnoitre. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. Character of River in Rapids. Photograph by F. S. Dellenbaugh, 1907. ] Continuing in the morning, September 4th, we lowered the boats past theremainder of the rapid and then shoved out into the terrific currentonce more. Water could hardly run faster than it now did, except in afall or rapid. The canyon was narrow and for five miles we encounteredthe worst whirlpools we had anywhere seen. The descent was swift andcontinuous, but the river was broken only by the whirlpools and "boils"as we called them, the surface suddenly seeming to boil up and run over. These upshoots, as a rule, seemed to follow whirlpools. In the latterthe water for a diameter of twenty or twenty-five feet would revolvearound a centre with great rapidity, the surface inclining to thevortex, the top of which was perhaps eighteen or twenty inches lowerthan the general level. The vortex itself was perfectly formed, like alarge funnel, and about six or eight inches in diameter, where it beganto be a hole in the water, tapering thence down in four or five feet toa mere point. The same effect is often seen when the water is flowingout of a round wash-basin through a pipe at the bottom. These were themost perfect whirlpools I have ever seen, those above having beenlacking in so distinct a vortex. There were many and we could often seethem ahead, but try as we would to cleave through without a completerevolution or two of the boat we could not do it. The boats sank downinto the hollow, enabling one to look over the side into the spinningopening, but the boats, being almost as long as the whirlpool's usualdiameter, could not be pulled in and we were not alarmed. We found itrather interesting to see if we could get through without turning, butwe never did. Any ordinary short object or one that could be tipped onend would surely go out of sight. So furious ran the river along thisstretch that we found it impossible to stop, the boats being like bitsof paper in a mill-race, swinging from one side to the other, andwhirling round and round as we were swept along between the narrow wallstill we ran the granite under about five miles from our last camp. Finally, after a run all told of fourteen miles with twenty-threerapids, we made Camp 103 with walls of friendly sandstone about us. Hereagain we discovered a small clear spring for drinking and cookingpurposes. There was no rain this day and at night we put on our dryclothes with confidence and had a warm comfortable camp with a goodsound sleep. Thursday morning found us early on the river, which to our surpriseturned suddenly in a north-north-east direction. When we had gone aboutnine miles and had run the granite up and down again, it began to turnto the west. At one point the river was not more than fifty feet wide;the current was everywhere exceedingly strong and there were manyrapids, of which we ran twelve, and made a portage at another, and alet-down at still another. We camped at the end of the nine miles on asmall sandbank, with the total height of walls about four thousand feet, breaking back in terraces after about eight hundred feet. Clem and Jackmade a number of photographs wherever practicable, and altogether theyhad succeeded in securing a representative collection. During the morning of Friday, September 6th, we ran two rapids in twomiles, which brought us to one which we thought required a let-down andwe made it. As it was easy, Jack and Clem busied themselvesphotographing while we were doing it, and we also had dinner here. Abouttwo o'clock we went on and in less than three miles ran four rapids, thefourth being an exceedingly heavy fall, at the foot of which we wentinto camp on the right bank. A little distance above on the same side ofthe river was a fine clear cold creek larger than the Paria in quantityof water. We called it Tapeats Creek, because a Pai Ute of that name, who had pointed it out to the Major from the Kaibab, claimed it. Duringthe day the work had been far less strenuous, there were few whirlpools, the river was falling, and it was in every way much easier than above inthe granite. A morning was spent at Tapeats Creek for examinations, andwe found there some ancient house ruins not far up the side canyon. Idiscovered a fine large metate or Indian mill, deeply hollowed out, andfoolishly attempted to take it to camp. On arriving there it was soheavy I had to drop it and it broke in two, much to the Major's disgust, who told me I ought to have let it alone, a fact which I realised thenalso. Our rations were now running very low again, for we had taken moredays for this passage than were planned, and as soon as we launchedforth after dinner we began to look longingly for the mouth of KanabCanyon and the pack-train. The river was much easier in every respect, and after our experience of the previous days it seemed mere play. Thegranite ran up for a mile or two, but then we entered sedimentary strataand came to a pretty little cascade falling through a crevice on theright from a valley hidden behind a low wall. We at once recognised itas one which Beaman had photographed when he and Riley had made theirway up along the rocks from the mouth of the Kanab during the winter. Weremembered that they had called it ten miles to the Kanab from thisplace, and after we had climbed up to examine what they had namedSurprise Valley we went on expecting to reach the Kanab before night. Running several small and one fairly large rapid, we saw, after twelvemiles from the last camp, a seeming crack on the right, and a fewseconds later heard a wild yelling. In a little while we landed andlowered to the head of a rapid, and running to the right up thebackwater into the mouth of the Kanab Canyon, we found George Adair, Nathan Adams, and Joe Hamblin, our three faithful packers, waiting therefor us with the rations. They had grown very anxious, for we wereseveral days overdue, and they feared we had been destroyed, --a fearthat was emphasised by one of Andy's discarded shirts washing ashore attheir feet. We pulled the boats a short distance up the Kanab on thebackwater and made a comfortable camp, 106, on its right bank, where wewere soon lost in letters and papers the pack-train had brought down. Our altitude was now 1800 feet above sea-level, showing a descent fromthe Little Colorado, in about 70 miles, of 890 feet, with 131 rapidsrun, besides six let-downs and seven portages. The total descent fromthe Paria was 1370 feet. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 32: There is but one Grand Canyon--the one here referred to. Persons unfamiliar with Western geography frequently confound the Canyonof the Arkansas with that of the Colorado because the former is in thestate of Colorado. The Grand Canyon is in Arizona but on the_Colorado_ River. ] [Footnote 33: Professor Thompson in his diary calls the descent 130 feetin three-quarters of a mile. ] [Footnote 34: For the benefit of any one who contemplates descending theColorado I would state that unsinkable boats are the only kind to useand the centre of gravity should be kept low. Cork life-jackets areindispensable. ] CHAPTER XV A New Departure--Farewell to the Boats--Out to the World through Kanab Canyon--A Midnight Ride--At the Innupin Picavu--Prof. Reconnoitres the Shewits Country--Winter Quarters in Kanab--Making the Preliminary Map--Another New Year--Across a high Divide in a Snow-storm--Down the Sevier in Winter--The Last Summons. The day following our arrival at the mouth of the Kanab Canyon wasSunday, September 8th, and with the exception of some observations takenby Prof. , and the writing of notes, the whole camp was in a state ofrest. After our trying work in the granite we enjoyed immensely thelying around warm and dry with plenty to eat. Monday morning everybodyexpected to begin preparations for the descent to the Grand Wash. Wewere surprised just as we were about to rise from our places around thecanvas on which breakfast had been spread, when the Major, who wassitting in his chair thinking, suddenly exclaimed, "Well, boys, ourvoyage is done!" In a way these words were a disappointment, for we allwanted to complete the task and we were entirely ready to go on, notwithstanding that our recent experience with high water in thegranite indicated great hazard ahead, where there was more granite; buton the whole the disappointment was agreeable. We knew the secondgranite gorge toward the lower end of the chasm to be nearly as bad asthe first one. There was besides one exceedingly difficult passagethere, which Prof. Called Catastrophe Rapid, where the Howlands and Dunnhad left the first party, which on the prevailing stage of water theMajor believed would be foolhardy to attempt. Prof. In his diary says, "It is nonsense to think of trying the lower bend with this water. " Heand the Major had talked the matter over Saturday night and thought ofstopping about forty miles down at Mount Trumbull, where we knew wecould climb out; then they thought of sending only one boat that far, but by Sunday night they decided to end all river work here. Prof. Saidhe could map the course from the notes of the first party and that hewould rather explore the adjacent country by land. [35] There were somebreaks in the notes from here down to Catastrophe Rapid, due to the factthat when the papers were divided on that memorable day on which theHowlands and Dunn left the party, instead of each division having a fullcopy of all the notes, by a mistake they had only portions of both sets. In addition to the difficulty of the forbidding Catastrophe Rapid therewas a possibility of an attack on us by the Shewits. Jacob through oneof his Pai Ute friends had information that they were preparing to layan ambush, and he sent warning to that effect. Jacob knew the nativestoo well to have given us this notice unless he thought it a realdanger, but we did not allow it much consideration at the time. Yet itwould have been an easy matter for the Shewits to secrete themselveswhere they could fall upon us in the night when we were used up byworking through some bad rapid, and then, hiding the goods, throw ourbodies into the river and burn the boats, or even turn them loose, thusleaving no proof of their action, our disappearance naturally being laidto destruction by the river, a termination generally anticipated. I havesometimes thought that when they killed the Howlands and Dunn they didit deliberately to get their guns and clothes, thinking it would not befound out, or at least that they could put forth a good excuse, as theydid. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. At a Rapid--Low Water. ] We were in the field to accomplish certain work and not to perform aspectacular feat, and the Major and Prof. Having decided that thedescent of the remainder of the canyon, considering all thecircumstances, was for us impracticable and unnecessary, we prepared toleave for Kanab. We unpacked the good old boats rather reluctantly. Theyhad come to possess a personality as such inanimate objects will, havingbeen our faithful companions and our reliance for many a hundreddifficult miles, and it seemed like desertion to abandon them socarelessly to destruction. We ought to have had a funeral pyre. Theflags of the boats, which Mrs. Thompson had made and which had beencarried in them the entire way, were still to be disposed of, and thatof the _Dean_ was generously voted to me by the Major, Jack, and Jones, who had crew claims to it; that of the _Nellie Powell_ was awarded toSteward; while Clem received the _Cañonita's_. I tried to persuade theMajor to pack the _Dean_ out in sections and send her east to be kept asa souvenir of the voyage, but he would not then listen to it, thoughyears later he admitted that he regretted not taking my suggestion. Three years afterward I came back to this place with my own party andwould then have executed my desire, but no trace of our former outfitremained except a hatch from one of the middle cabins, and the Major'schair. The latter I carried to Salt Lake, where I presented it to Cap, who was living there. As before mentioned, the Colorado was so extremely high that the waterbacked up into the Kanab Canyon, and it was there that we left theboats, each tied to an oar stuck in the ground. [36] We could not get allthe goods on the horses of the pack-train, and left a portion to bebrought out later. Jack and Clem remained to make photographs, andtaking a last look at the boats, with a good-bye to all, we turned ourfaces up the narrow chasm of the Kanab. A small stream ran in thebottom, and this formed large pools amongst numerous ponderous bouldersthat had fallen in from the top of the walls some three thousand feetabove our heads, the bottom being hardly more than sixty to seventy-fivefeet wide. It was with considerable difficulty that we got the animalspast some of these places, and in one or two the pools were so long anddeep they had to swim a little. The prospectors the year before hadworked a trail to some extent, but here, where the floods ran high attimes, changes occurred frequently. By five o'clock we had gone abouteight miles up this slow, rough way, and arrived at a singular spring, where we went into camp. This we called Shower-Bath Spring. The watercharged with lime had built out from the wall a semi-circular masscovered by ferns, which was cut away below by the floods till one couldwalk under in the sprinkling streams percolating through it. It was avery pretty place, but like all of its kind in the deep gorges it was afavourite resort for tarantulas, many of which we had seen in the depthsof the Grand Canyon. These, with scorpions, rattlesnakes, andGila-monsters, were the poisonous reptiles of the gorge. [Illustration: B. Preliminary map of a portion of the southern part of the unknowncountry indicated by the blank space on Map A at page 95, showing theHurricane Ledge, Uinkaret and Shewits Mountains, and the course of theGrand Canyon from the mouth of Kanab Canyon to the Grand Wash. TheHowlands and Dunn left the first expedition at Catastrophe Rapid, at thesharp bend a few miles below the intersection of the river and longitude113° 30', climbed out to the north, and were killed near Mt. Dellenbaugh. ] The next morning, Tuesday, the 10th of September, our pack-train wasearly on the way. The walls grew somewhat lower, though still twothousand feet high, and the canyon was usually seventy-five to onehundred feet wide at the bottom. There were patches of alluvial depositnow along the sides of the watercourse, covered by fields of cactusloaded with "apples, " the prickly leaves compelling us to keep the trailthe prospectors had made by their passage to and from the ephemeralEldorado. After a time we emerged from the lower canyon into a wider onein the way previously described; that is, like going from one floor toanother by an incline between narrow walls. The little stream havingvanished, a pool of rain-water helped us out for dinner, and while itwas preparing Prof. And I climbed up to secure notes on the topography. A trifle before sunset we arrived at the cedar tree, a short distancebelow the mouth of the Shinumo Canyon, where our party had camped theprevious March. The pockets were full of clear, fresh water, and we hadplenty for horses as well as men. Not far off some human bones werefound, old and bleached. We thought they must be the remains of one ofthe Navajo raiders who escaped wounded from the Mormon attack near thislocality. The canyon bottom was quite wide at this point andcomparatively level, covered by rushes and grass, and the horses wereable to get a good meal. During the day every time I dismounted to take compass bearings on thetrail I felt a sharp, peculiar pain shoot up my right leg from in frontabout half-way between ankle and knee. I could only discover a small redspot at the initial point, and concluded that I must have struck a sharprock or cactus spine. Our party now again divided, the Major and Jonesgoing up Shinumo Canyon to the Kaibab region, while Prof. And I rode onup the Kanab Canyon, starting at eight o'clock in the morning, Wednesday, September 11th, and riding steadily all day. As we had notexpected to come out in this way saddles were scarce. Prof. And theMajor had two of the three used by the packers, while the third wasawarded to Jones, who was to have a long ride on the Kaibab trip. Therest of us had to make shift as we could, and I rigged up a "sawbuck"pack-saddle, with rope loops for stirrups and a blanket across it to siton. This was not much better than, or as good perhaps as, bareback, andthe horse was a very hard trotter. We wished to reach Kanab that night. We kept on at as rapid a gait as the canyon would permit, though it waseasier than in March, when the numerous miners had not yet broken a wayby their ingress and egress in search of the fabulous gold that wassupposed to exist somewhere in the inaccessibility of the great chasm. The harder a locality is to arrive at the bigger the stories of itswealth, while often in the attempts to reach it the prospector treadsheedlessly ground that holds fortunes up to his very eyes. We continuedstraight up Kanab Canyon, the walls running lower and lower, till therewas nothing but rounded hills. Then we emerged on the summit, which wasa valley bottom, about twenty miles from Kanab. Shortly after dark wehalted for a bite to eat and a brief rest before striking for our oldstorehouse, a log cabin in Jacob's corral, where we arrived about eleveno'clock, having made about forty miles. I collected all the blankets Icould find, and, throwing them on the inside of Jacob's garden fence, Iwas almost immediately asleep, and knew nothing till Jacob came alongand said a "Good-morning. " My ablutions over, I went to Sister Louisa'sto breakfast with Prof. And Mrs. Thompson. The gardens were nowyielding an abundance of fresh fruits, peaches, melons, etc. , and Iblessed the good management and foresight that directed the immediateplanting of these things in a Mormon settlement. It seemed as if I couldnot get my fill. [Illustration: C. Preliminary map of a portion of the central part of the unknowncountry indicated by the blank space on Map A at page 95, showing theKaibab Plateau, mouth of the Paria, Echo Peaks, House Rock Valley, andthe course of part of Glen Canyon and of Marble Canyon and the GrandCanyon to the mouth of the Kanab Canyon. El Vado is at the westernintersection of the 37th parallel and the Colorado River, and Kanab isin the upper left-hand corner of the map--just above the 37th parallelwhich is the boundary between Utah and Arizona. The words "Old SpanishTrail from Santa Fé to Los Angeles" near El Vado were added inWashington and are incorrect. The old Spanish trail crossed at GunnisonCrossing far north of this point, which was barely known before 1858. ] Friday the 13th, the next day, was my birthday and Mrs. Thompson, whowas always striving to do something to make our circumstances pleasant, prepared a large peach pie with her own hands in celebration. The Majorand Jones having come in the night before, we passed most of the timethat day in a large tent eating melons, the Major acting as carver ofthe fruit. When we had eaten a watermelon he would declare that hethought muskmelon far better. We all agreed. He would cut one only tofind when we had eaten it that we had changed our minds and wantedwatermelon, which see-saw opinions we kept up till all the melons weregone. It would be impossible for any one who had not had our canyon fareto appreciate the exhilarating effect of this fresh fruit. My leg, which had developed the pain coming up the Kanab Canyon, nowswelled till it was almost the same size throughout and any pressuremade an imprint as in a piece of putty. No one knew what to make of it. I rode over to Johnson's, that person being the nearest to a doctor ofany one in the country, though the Mormons do not much believe inmedicines, and he gave me a liniment to apply. This did no good. In afew days the swelling disappeared except where the spot of keen painwas, and there a lump was left half as large as a man's fist, with twosmall red spots in the middle of it. I now concluded that these spotsmarked the bite of a tarantula that must have gotten in my blankets atShower-Bath Spring. Suppuration set in at the spots where the fleshturned black and all the men said it was a bad-looking wound. Theythought I would lose my leg. I concluded to poultice it to draw out anypoison that remained, and kept bread-and-milk applied continuously. After a while it seemed to have a tendency to heal. We ran the base line up through Kanab and at the head of it pitched asmall observatory tent over a stone foundation on which Prof, set up alarge transit instrument for stellar observations. He got in connection, by the telegraph, with Salt Lake City and made a series of closeobservations. I began an hourly set of barometrical readings and as soonas Clem came back he helped me to run them day and night for eightconsecutive days. Jack meanwhile was preparing for a trip to the MokiTowns, the Major and Jones had gone off for some special work, and Andystarted with a waggon for Beaver to bring down rations. Occasional bandsof trading Navajos enlivened the days and I secured five good blanketsin exchange for old Yawger, who was now about useless for our purposes. Prof. Gave him to me to get what I could for him, and he also gave Clemanother derelict for the same purpose. On the 9th of October Jack, Andy, and Clem, started with Jacob on his annual trip to the Mokis by way ofLee's Lonely Dell while Jones went north to Long Valley on the head ofthe Virgin, for topography. The Major on foot, with a Mormon companionand a Pai Ute, explored from Long Valley down the narrow canyon of theVirgin to Shunesburg, about 20 miles, a trip never before made. [37] Thecanyon is about two thousand feet deep and in places only twenty orthirty feet wide, twisting in such a way that the sky was not visible attimes, and the stream often filled it from side to side so that they hadto swim. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. At the Bottom near Foot of Bass Trail. ] About eleven o'clock that night Prof. Came to wake me up to say that atelegram had arrived stating that Najavos again had been raiding and hadstolen seventy head of horses from Parowan. They were supposed to bemaking for El Vado and nobody in the absence of Jacob seemed to knowjust what to do about it. Prof. Had advised them to organise a party andcut off the raiders, but they preferred to consult Jacob before doinganything. Prof. Now asked me if I would be willing to ride at once tothe Navajo Well where Jacob had expected to camp and notify him of theraid, no one else in town understanding where the well was, few besidesourselves and Jacob ever having travelled that way. I said I would go ifI could have one companion. It was a lonely journey, and besides I mightcome on the Navajos before reaching the well. Charley Riggs, a splendidfellow whom I liked exceedingly, volunteered. Filling our overcoatpockets with cartridges, and each with a good Winchester across hissaddle, we started about 12:30 under a fine moon and a clear sky. I knewthe way perfectly, even by moonlight. We took no wrong turns, had nostops, and made excellent time toward the Navajo Well twenty miles away. On we went over the open country, skirting the Vermilion Cliffs on ourleft. "Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place, " but not at the headlong gallop by which they brought the news over afirst-class road to Aix, we rode steadily as fast as the ground wouldpermit, sometimes on a gallop, sometimes on a trot. About two o'clock, as we neared a canyon where an old trail came down from the north whichthe raiders might follow, we slowed up and advanced with caution. Dimlywe perceived what appeared to be a number of sleeping forms under theordinary Navajo dark-blue and white striped service blanket. Throwingour guns up ready for action we rode ahead slowly to pass by a detour ifnot discovered. We then saw that the objects were nothing but peculiarbushes. With a feeling of sympathy for the dear Knight of La Mancha andhis worthy Sancho we spurred forward. At half-past four by the watchdawn began to spread on the sky and we rode into the camp at the NavajoWell. A shout and our hoofbeats had roused the sleepers. I delivered mymessage to Jacob who immediately started for El Vado with Charley Riggs, intending to add several more men to his band at the Paria settlementwhich he would pass through; a route he had often before followed for alike purpose. My leg was by no means well and it would have beenimprudent on this account for me to further lend my services. I letJacob have my rifle and ammunition and returned to Kanab, Jack, Andy, and Clem going on to Lee's to wait. I reached the settlement beforenoon, when George Adair and Tom Stewart started heavily armed to joinJacob at the earliest moment. A Pai Ute later came in with a report thata fresh party of Navajos on a trading trip had recently come across theColorado, and from this we concluded that the alarm was false, or thatthe culprits were Utes who went off into the Dirty Devil country. Prof. With Adams went out towards the Paria and then to the Kaibab to do sometopographic work along the north rim of the Grand Canyon and I was leftwithout any of our party in the village, it being deemed inadvisable forme to do much riding or walking till my wound, which was now doing well, had more nearly healed. I devoted my time to plotting up notes, finishing sketches, drawings of pictographs, etc. , and took my meals atSister Louisa's. I became much interested in the story of herexperiences which she told us from time to time, especially as she wasone of the women who had pushed a handcart across the plains. After afew days the Major came in from a trip accompanied by several Pai Utes, among whom was Chuarooumpeak, the young chief of the Kaibab band, usually called Frank by the settlers and Chuar by his own people. ThePai Utes having no "F" in their language pronounced his English name"Brank, " just as they called me "Bred. " Their usual name for me wasUntokarowits, derived from the dark red colour of my hair. Frank was aremarkably good man. He had been constantly devoted to the safety andwelfare of the whites. A most fluent speaker in his native tongue, hewould address his people with long flights of uninterrupted rhetoricalskill. Old Patnish came in occasionally. Though he did not look particularlydangerous his eye was keen and his bearing positive. Nobody would haveinterfered with him unless prepared for a fight to the finish. One day Irode to Johnson by the trail and learned when I got back that Patnishhad arrived at Kanab by the road, so I just missed an interview. Theterm "old" Patnish signifies "that scoundrel" Patnish, but when thepeople spoke of "old" Jacob the prefix was one of respect andaffection--so contrary is the meaning that can be put into threeletters. Charley Riggs and George Adair came back from El Vado sayingthat no raiding Navajos had been seen, so our opinion of the false alarmwas confirmed. [Illustration: E. Showing results of recent re-survey of part of the Grand Canyon nearBright Angel Creek by the Geological Survey with ample time for detail. Compare with Map C at page 246, the south end of Kaibab Plateau. ] On the 27th of October we had the first snow of the season, which lastedonly a few hours, snow never being heavy at Kanab. The Major had plannedanother journey to the Uinkaret region and we started November 2d, taking with us three of the Kaibab band--Chuar, another called George, or, as they pronounced it, "Judge, " and Waytoots; the Major desiring totalk to them in our camps to continue his vocabulary and the collectionof other linguistic material which he had been gathering from them andothers in and around Kanab at every opportunity. Our party proceeded toPipe Spring, camping half a mile below the houses and striking the nextday, Monday, November 4th, for the Wild Band Pocket. Finding no waterthere the natives led on toward a spring they knew of in a low line ofcliffs. I was riding a broncho broken only a few weeks before, and at anunexpected moment I was suddenly deemed _persona non grata_, but I keptmy seat and vanquished the beast after a vigorous circus, meetingthereafter with no further opposition. We saw a band of twenty wildhorses spinning across the plain one behind another like a train ofrailway cars, a huge stallion playing locomotive. Perhaps my bronchofelt the call of the band! Darkness dropped down on us before we couldget to the spring. We had to make a camp that was not exactly dry, though there was no drinking water, for a drizzling rain, half snow, setin, the snow serving to hold the accompanying rain on the surface. Wewere wading in slush and it was a task to find a decent place for one'sblankets. Jones and I bunked together. His side of the bed was a slighthollow, in consequence of which the melting slush formed under him achilly pool that interfered seriously with his slumbers. I happened tobe lying on a lump or ridge and kept fairly dry by never stirring thewhole night. The rain ceased by morning and all day Tuesday we travelled toward theUinkaret Mountains over a comparatively level desert, but not goingrapidly, as we had a waggon. The ground having been softened by the rainthe wheels cut deeply, there being of course no road. A flock ofantelope blew by. We did not give them a second glance, as they were toofar off to be hunted. It was after dark when we arrived at the rockypool where we had before camped in March, which we learned now fromChuar the natives called the Innupin (or Oonupin) Picavu, or WitchWater-pocket. They said the locality was a favourite haunt of witches. These were often troublesome and had to be driven away or they mighthurt one. There was plenty of wood and we were soon comfortable, with akeen November wind to emphasise our blessings. The water in the pocketwas clear and pure, but it was full of small "wigglers. " We tried to dipup a pail which should be free from them. The Major, seeing our efforts, took a cup and without looking drank it down with the nonchalant remark, "I haven't seen any wigglers. " The Pai Utes had killed some rabbits, which they now skinned and cooked. I say cooked, but perhaps I shouldsay warmed. Dexterously stripping off the skins they slit open theabdomen, removed the entrails, and, after squeezing out the contents bydrawing between thumb and fingers, they replaced the interminable stringin the cavity, closing the aperture with the ears, and stowed thecarcass in the hot ashes for a few minutes. Then they ate the wholething with complete satisfaction. We preferred to fry ours, without theentrails, in a pan with bacon fat. Frequently the Major gave me littletalks on science, as he was much interested in my future career, and bythe fire this evening he instructed me in some of the fundamentalprinciples of natural philosophy. Chuar having had one of his men removehis shoes, which were heavy "Mericats" ones, was reclining in a princelyway smoking a cigarette on a bank near the fire. Suddenly he rose to hisfeet, intently listening and peering anxiously out through theenveloping gloom of the piñons and cedars. I asked him what he heard. "Oonupits, " he whispered solemnly, never ceasing his watchful gaze. Thencautiously aiming his long muzzle-loading rifle in the direction, hefired a shot and seemed satisfied that the intruder was driven away ordestroyed. He described the noise of the Oonupits as a whistling sound. He and his men had a habit of waking in the night in our various campsand singing, first one beginning very low, the others joining in one byone, and increasing the power as they did so till all were singing infull voice. This woke us up. We threw things at them, but with noeffect. "What do you do it for?" said I to Chuar. "To drive away theOonupits, " he answered. [38] In the morning, November 6th, the Major, Prof. And I went offreconnoitring and did not get back to camp till after dark, when wefound there a short, fat, Uinkaret whom Chuar introduced asTeemaroomtekai, chief. In the settlements when he ventured to go therehe was known as Watermelon, according to Frank Hamblin, who was with us. Teemaroomtekai had a companion and next day Prof. And the Major climbedMt. Trumbull with them. Wishing to have a talk with the Shewits we movedon the 9th around to Oak Spring, near which some of them were encampedwith their kinsmen the Uinkarets. I was interested to see what theslayers of the Howlands and Dunn looked like. Except for a wilder, moredefiant aspect, they differed little from other Pai Utes. Their countrybeing so isolated and unvisited they were surly and independent. TheUinkarets on the other hand were rather genial, more like the Kaivavitband. The Major traded for bags of food seeds, baskets, spoons made frommountain sheep's horns, balls of compressed cactus fruit from which thejuice had been extracted for a kind of wine, rolls of oose-apple pulp, which they ate like bread, etc. , all for the Smithsonian Institution. With the Shewits the Major and Prof. Had a conference. Prof. Wished tomake a reconnaissance through their region and explained to them what hewanted to do. An agreement was reached by which he was to be permittedwithout molestation of any kind to go anywhere and everywhere with twoShewits for guides and one of our party as cook and helper, in orderthat he could tell "Washington" about the country. The helper, however, was to stick to the trail and remain in camp, so that he would know aslittle as possible, and should not tell that little to the "Mormoni"whom the Shewits disliked. Nathan Adams, a Mormon, was the man toaccompany Prof. And he did not enjoy the prospect at all. On Monday, November 11th, the Major, Prof. , and Jones climbed Mount Logan for moredata and took a general survey of the country, while I went out on foot, climbed, measured and located eight large cinder-cones. When they camedown the Major said he had seen a fine, isolated mountain to the westwhich he had called after me, and I naturally felt much pleased with thehonour of having my name stamped on the map. The next day, November 12th, our party divided into three. Frank Hamblinwent out to St. George with the waggon after rations; Prof. With NathanAdams, one Shewits, named Paantung, and our guide "Judge, " who may havebeen a Shewits also for all we could tell, prepared for the entranceinto Shewits land, while the Major, Jones, and I proceeded to the footof the Toroweap, to a water-pocket near the edge of the Grand Canyoncalled by the Uinkarets Teram Picavu. Chuar and Waytoots went back toKanab and we hired Uinkarets to carry our goods nine miles down to thepocket, descending 1200 feet at one point over rough lava. After somework at the canyon we went back to the spring on the 14th, the Uinkaretsagain acting as our pack-horses. We had no salt left by this time andvery little food, but we killed some rabbits and cooked them on hotcoals, the adhering ashes making a substitute for salt. I reached thespring first and found little, round, beaming, Teemaroomtekai, who knewour plans, already there with a great big "Mericats" fire to welcome us, as well as a large pile of wood for feeding it. The Major got in soonafter, but Jones failed to come at all, which worried us. Before wecould go in search of him in the morning he arrived. His horse had givenout, compelling him to stay where he was all night. We had travelledhard up and down all kinds of hills, canyons, and mountains, with seldoma trail, and it was wearing on the animals living only on bunch grass. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. From North Side near Foot of Toroweap Valley, Uinkaret District. Photograph by J. K. Hillers. ] I continued measuring and locating the oonagaritchets or cinder-cones, of which there were more than sixty, and got in four more on the 15th. Then the Major decided to move to another water-pocket the Uinkaretstold about, farther east across the lava, a pocket they called TiravuPicavu or Pocket-of-the-Plain. It was on the edge of the basaltic tableoverlooking what they termed the Wonsits Tiravu or Antelope Plain. Theysaid there was no water now, but as one declared there was a little wedecided to go. While the Major followed a waggon-track leading to orfrom St. George, wishing to make some special observations along it andexpecting to meet and stop Frank with the waggon now due, Jones and Istruck across on the moccasin trail, leaving our goods to be brought onby the Uinkaret packers. At sunset we rounded a clump of cinder-conesstudding a black, barren waste. Far away across the Wonsits Tiravu rosethe red cliff land up and up to the eastern sky; behind was the greatbulk of Trumbull, together with scores of the smooth, verdureless heapsof volcanic cinders. Everywhere near was the desert of basalt, withnothing but the faint trail to point the way and the night slowlyenwrapping us. On we urged our stumbling, weary beasts, their ironclinking on the metallic rocks; on till the thick blackness circled uslike a wall. Then we halted and built a little brush fire, thinking tostay till dawn. At the instant a weird cry from far back fell leaden onthe strangely heavy winter air. Our packers saw where we were andpresently came to us. They were in a rage, pitching along in the darkunder their heavy loads. They were cold, tired, famished, for the wayhad been long, the packs heavy. Frost was in the wind. They nowpretended not to know where the end was. I thought this was to see whatwe would say or do. We did not care; we said and did nothing with allthe nonchalance born of the feeling that the further we went the worseit was. Then one remembered. The pocket was near and he struck out forit, the rest following as best we could through the thick night, theguide occasionally lighting a torch of grass. After a quarter of a milehe stopped in the bottom of a deep basaltic gulch. Here was the place. The Uinkarets threw down their loads and squatted glum and silent. Fromthe hill Jones and I scraped together an armful of brush and got a smallfire started in the bottom of the desolate hollow. At the upper end ofit on a sort of bench eight feet wide was a depression covered with icethree or four inches thick. With some difficulty pounding a hole throughthis we found beneath a small amount of thick, slimy water, full ofgreen scum. We drank some, the Uinkarets drank some, but we could notsee well enough to get any out for the animals. We tied them to rocks toprevent them from leaving in the night. The Indians thawed a littleunder the influence of the fire, but they would barely speak when spokento. They skinned a wildcat they had killed on the way and boiled the redmeat briefly in our kettle and ate it like hungry wolves, while Jonesand I, all the time wondering what had become of the Major, made a lightlunch on some of our scanty supply. Then we climbed the hill, andgetting together a little more brush Jones sat keeping a signal firegoing as long as he had fuel. But the wind was keen and strong, woodlimited, and he gave it up. Spreading our blankets we went to sleep. Morning came clear and sharp. I took my glasses and went up to scan thecountry for some sign of the Major or our waggon and I rejoiced todiscover him not a quarter of a mile distant. He had headed for thefire, and losing it kept on by a star till he thought he was near us, when he made a small fire of his own, tied his mule, and waited for day. We had a bite together and thawed out some of the ice in our kettle, providing a diminutive drink for each horse; then leaving the natives incharge of the baggage we rode down into the plain to find our waggon, taking along our last bit of bread for lunch. In about ten miles we cameto it and Frank Hamblin gave us the latest news, "Grant elected andBoston burned. " After a lunch we turned back, making a camp at the footof the basalt, thawing out more ice for the animals, and giving theIndians some food. About two o'clock the Major and I rode over to theInnupin Picavu while Jones and the waggon went around, as it could notcross the basalt. We arrived at seven, while the waggon did not cometill half past eleven, when we prepared a good supper for all hands, turning in about three in the morning. Not a man awoke before ten, though the strong sun fell on our faces. The animals were used up and wedid what we could on foot that day. I climbed four more cinder-cones, reaching camp at dark. Every day I climbed several of the cones, butsome were so far away that I had to make a special camp from which tooperate. The waggon was loaded with ice from the water-pocket, and asupply of provisions, and driven about seven miles to a basaltic gulch, in a well-wooded locality on the edge of a treeless valley, where theload was dropped and I was left with my horse. Before dark I gathered alot of wood, made a good fire, and melted some of the ice that formed mywater supply, in a brass kettle, watering my horse, which I thentethered with a long rope where there was good grass. I did not intendto waste time hunting my mount in the morning. After supper I spread myblankets near the fire and by the light of a bright piñon blaze I beganto read _Great Expectations_, a paper edition with the last leaves gonehaving gotten into camp. As I read Pip's interview in the twilight withthe convict on the dreary marshes I was in deep sympathy with thedesperate hunger of the terrible man, and when Mrs. Joe buttered the endof the loaf and carved off the slices I myself was hungry enough to cooksupper over again. Butter had now been absent from my bill of fare, witha few exceptions, for nearly two years. I was careful to place my firewhere it would be well screened and not easily seen from a distance. Idid not care to have any Shewits or even Uinkarets visit me and I hopedthey were all in their own camps, though I sometimes had a feeling thatone might be watching from the shadows of the great basaltic rocks. This, of course, was due to the circumstances and not to anyprobability, though I kept my Winchester near my hand. When I again gotback to the main camp the Major told me that the first night of myabsence several of the natives came in and, not seeing me around, inquired my whereabouts. He gave them an evasive answer, believing thatit was quite as well not to apprise them of the situation. The following day, Thursday, November 21st, I covered a wide territory, climbing five cinder-cones a great distance apart and each quite high. Several times I crossed recent moccasin tracks, but met no natives, andat nightfall I was still a long way from my camp. When the darknessbecame so dense that I could not see even faint outlines I took a starfor guidance till clouds blotted it out. Then I was completely adrift ina sea of mountains. I could not tell one direction from another. Throwing the reins on the broncho's neck I sat back in my saddle to seewhat would come of it. Slowly, cautiously the animal plodded overbroken, rocky ground succeeded by smoother footing, as I could tell bythe motion, and in about an hour suddenly and quietly halted. Iperceived that I was in the midst of cedars. A light spot appearedalmost beneath. Dismounting I dropped to my hands and knees and foundthat it was the ashes of my fire. The broncho, the same that had triedto buck me off a few days before, had come back to the camp of a singlenight, about the best example of horse sense that I ever experienced. After another comfortable evening with Dickens I was prepared to go onwith my special task, and finished it in this place by climbing thegroup of cones near the Tiravu Picavu the next day. About two in theafternoon I got back to my camp with a very tired mount, but I loadedall my traps on my saddle, the ice being almost exhausted, and startedto find a new locality where I was to meet the Major. My pack was high, my broncho tired. While crossing a small open valley near sunset thepoor beast suddenly lay down with me. There being no water anywhere inthat locality, I was forced to use some brutality to get the animal up. Without further incident I came to the place agreed on and found theMajor there in advance. We camped at the spot and the next day, Saturday, November 23d, I climbed five more cones, reaching the camp atsunset. Sunday the Major went on with his particular task while I addedsix more of the cones to my list, getting back to the side camp late inthe day. The Major was to go in by himself when he was ready, so I tookall the outfit on my horse again, reached the Oak Spring trail atsunset, and the main camp two hours after dark, glad enough to drop theload of pails, bags, blankets, etc. , in which my broncho sympathisedmore deeply than could be expressed. [Illustration: The Grand Canyon. Storm Effect from South Rim. ] Monday morning, November 25th, we turned our faces toward Kanab, and Iclimbed four more cones on the way out, overtaking the waggon about anhour after dark. The night was very cold and I was ready to enjoy thewarmth of a fire by the time I reached the camp. In the morning we had avisit from Lieutenant Dinwiddie of Lieut. Wheeler's survey. I rode overto the cinder-cone region again and climbed the remaining ones, seven oreight, reaching camp after dark, the days being very short at this timeof year. The camp had been moved nearer to the spring in the low line ofcliffs where we had halted coming out and the Major with his usualoriginal ideas had caused the waggon to be lowered by ropes into a deepgulch. He had estimated that it was possible to go out through thecliffs that way instead of going all the way around. His geologicalknowledge did not lead him astray. There was no trouble whatever intaking the waggon up the gulch, and when we emerged we were many mileson the road to Pipe Spring, where the Major and I arrived in advance ofthe others. We had dinner and he then went on alone to Kanab, where thewhole party arrived the next day--Thanksgiving Day. Prof. Had come in onthe 25th by way of St. George, having had a successful tour through theShewits region, all agreements on both sides having been carried out tothe letter. He had been two weeks in the wild country and Adams declaredthat to him the time was years, his only comfort being that he waswearing his "endowment garment, " a sure protection from all evil. Prof. Had climbed Mount Dellenbaugh, though the Shewits objected to Adams'sgoing up and he remained on the trail. It was found to be a basalticpeak 6650 feet above sea-level, but only 1200 or 1500 above its base. Onthe summit were the ruins of a Shinumo building circular in shape, twenty feet in diameter, with walls remaining about two feet high. Itwas not far from the base of this mountain that the Howlands and Dunnwere killed, Paantung, Prof. 's guide, saying it was done by some "nosense" Shewits. Prof. Was of the opinion that the guide had been of theparty himself. All was preparation in our camp for the departure of the Major for SaltLake and Washington. I had expected to go east at this time also, butboth the Major and Prof. Being desirous of having me remain a whilelonger, to help finish up the preliminary map, I agreed to do so and onthe 30th of November all the original party set out but Prof. , Mrs. Thompson, and myself. A new member, John Renshawe, had arrived a fewdays before to assist at the topography. When the party had been gonesome time it was discovered that they had forgotten several things. Itook a horse and rode over with the articles to the camp they intendedto make at Johnson, where I remained till morning. The Major was soeager to get an early start that he had all hands up long beforesunrise. When breakfast was eaten we had to sit by the fire threequarters of an hour before there was light enough for the men to trailthe horses. Then I said good-bye; they went on and I went back. Jonesand Andy I never saw again. Prof. Concluded to make winter headquarters in Kanab and a lot wasrented for the purpose. On December 3d, we put up a large tent in onecorner, with two small ones for rations and saddles. The next day we putup one in the other corner for Prof. And Mrs. Thompson, and at the backof the lot we arranged a corral for the horses or mules we might want tocatch. The large tents were floored with pine boards and along the sidesheavy cedar boughs were placed in crotches around which the guy ropeswere passed before staking. The tents thus were dry inside and could notblow down. A conical iron stove on a boxing of earth heated the largetent like a furnace. In the middle of the general tent we placed a longdrafting-table and were ready for work. Another tent, half boards, waserected near ours for kitchen and dining-room, and Riley, who had turnedup again, hired as cook and master of this structure. Riley, who hadspent his whole life in camp and saddle, was the best frontier or campcook I ever saw. Scrupulously clean to the last detail of his pots andpans, he knew how to make to perfection all manner of eatables possibleunder the circumstances. Prof. Arranged for a supply of potatoes, butter, meats, and everything within reason, so we lived very well, withan occasional dash of Dixie wine to add zest, while on Christmas DayRiley prepared a special feast. Though the sky was sombre the town wasmerry and there was a dance in the school-house, but I did not attend. Rainy weather set in on the 26th, and the old year welcomed the new in asteady downpour, making January 1, 1873, rather a dismal holiday. Eventhe mail which arrived this day was soaked. Toward evening the skieslifted somewhat and a four-horse waggon appeared, or rather two mulesand two horses on a common freighting waggon, in which Lyman Hamblin andtwo others were playing, as nearly in unison as possible, a fiddle, adrum, and a fife. While we were admiring this feat we heard Jack'shearty shout and saw our waggon returning under his charge from SaltLake with supplies, with a cook stove for our kitchen, and with a newsuit of clothes for me accompanied by the compliments of Prof. And theMajor. Our camp in Kanab was now as complete and comfortable as any one mightwish, and our work of preparing the map went forward rapidly. As soon asit could be finished I was to take it to Salt Lake, and send it byexpress to the Major in Washington, to show Congress what we had beendoing and what a remarkable region it was that we had beeninvestigating. In the evenings we visited our friends in the settlementor they visited us, or we read what books, papers, and magazines wecould get hold of. John and I also amused ourselves by writing down allthe songs that were sung around camp, to which I added a composition ofmy own to the tune of _Farewell to the Star Spangled Banner_, anabandoned rebel one. These words ran: Oh, boys, you remember the wild Colorado, Its rapids and its rocks will trouble us no more, etc. , with a mention in the various stanzas of each member of the partyand his characteristics. The horses became high-spirited with nothing todo and plenty of good feed. One of our amusements was to corral several, and then, putting saddles on the most prancing specimens, mount and ridedown on the plain, the horse running at top speed, with the impressionthat he was full master of the situation and expecting us to try to stophim. Instead we enjoyed the exhilaration of it, and let the chargeralone till after a couple of miles he concluded the fun was all on ourside and took a more moderate gait of his own accord. There were severalhorse races also, and the days flew by. On February 3d I finishedplotting the river down to the Kanab Canyon, and as if to emphasise thispoint a snow-storm set in. By the 5th the snow was five inches deep, andwe had word that the snow on the divide to the north over theculmination of the various lines of cliffs, where I would have to passto go to Salt Lake, was very heavy. On the 7th the mail rider failed toget through. We learned also that an epizoötic had come to Utah and manyhorses were laid up by it, crippling the stage lines. It had beenplanned that I should go north with our own horses till I could connectwith some stage line, and then take that for the remainder of thedistance to the Utah Southern Railway, which then had been extendedsouth from Salt Lake as far as Lehi. On the 16th of February, which was Sunday, I put the last touches on themap, drawn from the original on a large sheet of tracing cloth, rolledit carefully up, and placed it in a long tin tube we had ordered fromthe local tinsmith. This I carried on my back, as I did not mean to beseparated from it a minute till I gave it into the hands of Wells, Fargo& Co. 's express in Salt Lake. Jack was to go with me. Saying a lastgood-bye to Prof. And Mrs. Thompson, to John, and to some of my Kanabfriends who came to see the start, we left a little after noon, with onepack on a broncho mule, Jack riding a mule and I a favourite horse ofmine called by the unusual name of Billy. The pack-mule always had to beblindfolded before we could handle him, and if the blind shouldaccidentally slip off there was an instantaneous convulsion which had amost disrupting effect. Going straight up the canyon, we crossed overfinally into Long Valley, and were on the headwaters of the Virgin. Atsunset we came to a little settlement called Mt. Carmel, but continuedto Glendale, where we arrived about half-past seven, having come in allthirty miles. At the bishop's house we were welcomed and there got somesupper, putting our three animals in his corral. We did not care tosleep in the house, choosing for our resting-place the last remains of ahaystack, where we spread our blankets, covering the whole with apaulin, as the sky looked threatening. I never slept more comfortably inmy life, except that I was half-aroused in the stillness by watertrickling down my neck. Half-asleep we pulled the canvas clear up overour heads and were troubled no more. When we awoke in the morning aheaviness on top of us we knew meant snow. We were covered by a fullfoot of it, soft and dry. Valley, mountain, everything was a solidexpanse of white, the only dark spot being our red blankets as we threwback the paulin. The sky was grey and sullen. More snow was in the air. As soon as breakfast was eaten we slung our pack, saddled, and rode upthe valley, following as well as we could the directions given by thebishop. Neither Jack nor I had been this way before. We could see theslight depression in the surface of the snow which indicated awaggon-rut beneath, and by that token continued up the ever-narrowingvalley; the slopes sprinkled by large pine trees. Snow fell thickly. Itwas not always easy to see our way, but we went on. At a certain pointwe were to turn to the left up a side gulch, following it till we cameto the divide, some eight thousand or nine thousand feet abovesea-level, where we expected to go down to the head of the SevierValley, where Jack had before been by another route. At the gulch wedeemed the correct one, no road or trail being visible, we turned latein the afternoon to the left and rapidly mounted higher, with the freshsnow growing correspondingly deeper till it was about two feet on thelevel. The going was slow and hard, the sky still dropping heavy flakesupon us. About five o'clock we found ourselves on the summit of a highbald knob topping the world. In every direction through the snow-mistsimilar bald knobs could be seen looming against the darkening sky. Theold drifts were so deep that where a horse broke through the crust hewent down to the end of his leg. This excited them, and they plungedwildly. I finally got them all three still and quiet, while Jack scannedthe outlook intently. "See any landmark, Jack?" said I. "Not a damnedthing I ever saw before!" answered Jack. At brief intervals the fallingsnow would cease, and we could see more clearly, except that theimpending night began to cast over all a general obscurity. There was a deep valley beyond to the right. While it was not possibleto tell directions we felt that our course must lie there, and I led theway down a long treeless slope, breaking a path as well as I could, myhorse following behind; the others urged on by Jack from the rear. Thesnow became shallower near the bottom. We mounted and I rode in thedirection that Jack thought we ought to take to come to the road downthe Sevier where he had before travelled. We crossed the valley in doingthis, but at one point in the very bottom my horse wanted to turn to theleft, which would have taken us down the deepening valley. I preventedhis turning and we continued up a gulch a mile or two, where it narrowedtill we could barely proceed. Jack then climbed up on a cliff anddisappeared, endeavouring to see some familiar object, the falling snowhaving at last stopped. I stood in my tracks with the three animals andwaited so long I began to be afraid that Jack had met with an accident. Just then I heard him descending. It was nearly dark. He could not seeany sign of the region he had been in before. Snow and darkness puzzleone even in a familiar country. We then went back to the valley wherethe horse had wished to turn and followed it down, now believing that itmight be the right way after all, for Billy had been over the roadseveral times. Another example of horse sense, which seems to prove thathorses know more than we think they do. We had expected to reach Asa'sranch before night and had not brought an axe, in consequence. Keepingdown the valley till we came to a group of cedars, some of which weredead, and a tall pine tree, we camped, pulling branches from the cedarsand bark from the pine for a fire, which quickly melted its way down tothe ground, leaving a convenient seat all round about twenty incheshigh, upon which we laid blankets to sit on. Our pack contained enoughfood for supper; breakfast would have to take care of itself. We alsohad some grain, which we fed to the hungry animals and tied them underthe cedars, where they were protected in a measure from the sharp windthough they were standing in deep snow. For ourselves we cut twigs fromthe green cedars and made a thick mattress on the snow with them. Ourblankets on top of these made a bed fit for a king. The storm clearedentirely; a brilliant moon shone over all, causing the falling frost inthe air to scintillate like diamonds. In the morning, Tuesday, February 18th, we packed up at once, havingnothing left to eat, and proceeded down the valley wondering if we wereon the right road or not. The sky arched over with that deep tone thatis almost black in winter in high altitudes, and the sun fell in adazzling sheet upon the wide range of unbroken white. The surface waslike a mirror; the eyes closed against the intense light instinctively. As we went on northwards and downwards a faint, double, continuoushollow began to appear on the snow--a waggon-track at the bottom. Itbecame more and more distinct and we then felt sure that we were on theright road, though we were not positive till near noon when, approachinga rocky point, we suddenly heard the clear ring of an axe on themetallic air. A few moments later turning this we saw a large, swiftstream flowing clear between snowy banks, and beyond a log cabin withblue smoke rising from the immense stone chimney. In front was a manchopping wood. His dog was barking. It was a welcome, a beautifulpicture of frontier comfort. It was Asa's ranch. Asa was one of the menwho helped the Major on his arrival at the mouth of the Virgin in 1869, now having changed his residence to this place. We were soon madewelcome in the single large room of the cabin where all the family were, and while the horses were having a good feed an equally good one for uswas prepared by Mrs. Asa on the fire burning snugly in the greatchimney. Never did fried ham, boiled eggs, and hot coffee do betterservice. We could not have been more cordially received if these Mormonshad been our own relatives. We rested there till about three o'clock, when we bade them all good-byeand rode on down the valley, the snow continually lessening in depth, till, when we reached the much lower altitude of Panguitch at sunset, twenty-six miles from our night's camp, there were only three or fourinches and the temperature was not nearly so low, though still verycold. According to custom we applied to the bishop for accomodation forourselves and our stock and were again cordially received. We werequickly made comfortable before a bright fire on the hearth whichillumed the whole room. While the good wife got supper, the bishop, anexceedingly pleasant man, brought out some Dixie wine he had recentlyreceived. He poured us out each a large goblet and took one himself. After a hearty supper Jack and I put down our blankets on the bishop'shaystack and knew nothing more till sunrise. Leaving Panguitch we rodeon down the Sevier, crossing it frequently, and made about forty miles, passing through Sevier Canyon and Circle Valley, where there were anumber of deserted houses, and arrived for night at the ranch of aGentile named Van Buren. By this time my eyes, which had been inflamedby the strong glare of the sun, began to feel as if they were full ofsand, and presently I became aware that I was afflicted with thatpainful malady snowblindness. I could barely see, the pain in both eyeswas extreme, and a river of tears poured forth continually. Other menwhom we heard of as we went on were blinded worse than I. All I coulddo, having no goggles, was to keep my hat pulled down and cut off theglare as much as possible. [39] At Marysvale the stage had beenabandoned. We kept on, finding as we advanced that all the stages wereput out of business by the epizoötic. There was nothing for Jack to dobut to go on with me to Nephi. In riding through one village I saw a sign on the closed door of a storejust off the road and my curiosity led me to ride up close enough toread it. I did not linger. The words I saw were "SMALL POX. " That nightwe reached Nephi under the shadow of the superb Mount Nebo, where Itried again for a stage so that Jack could return. No stage arrived andthe following morning we rode on northward over very muddy roads, finally reaching Spanish Fork, where a fresh snow-storm covered thecountry about a foot, making travelling still more difficult. Anotherday's journey put us as far as American Fork, only three miles from theend of the railway, a place called Lehi, for which we made a very earlystart the next day, Wednesday, February 25th, but when we arrived therethrough the mud and slush the train had taken its departure. Our packmule was now very lame and travelled with difficulty, but we continuedon toward Salt Lake. The train had become stalled in the immensesnowdrifts at the Point-of-the-Mountain and there we overtook it. I wassoon on board with my tin case and other baggage, but it was aconsiderable time before the gang of men and a snow plough extricatedthe train. About five o'clock we ran into the town. I went to the WalkerHouse, then the best hotel, and that night slept in a real room and areal bed for the first time in nearly two years, but I opened thewindows as wide as they would go. In the morning I sent off the map andthen turned my attention to seeing the Mormon capital. Cap. Was nowliving there and it was Fennemore's home. I also found Bonnemort andMacEntee in town, and Jack came on up the remaining short distance inorder to take a fresh start for Kanab. Nearly forty years have slipped away since the events chronicled in thisvolume. Never was there a more faithful, resolute band of explorers thanours. Many years afterward Prof. Said in a letter to me speaking of themen of the Second Powell Expedition, "I have never seen since such zealand courage displayed. " From out the dark chasm of eternity comes thehail, "Tirtaan Aigles dis wai!" and already many of that little companyhave crossed to Killiloo. The Major and Prof. Repose in the sacredlimits of Arlington. Strew their graves with roses and forget them not. They did a great work in solving the last geographical problem of theUnited States. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 35: Professor Thompson declared to me not long before hisdeath that the river was accurate as far as Catastrophe Rapid, (aboutwhere longitude 113. 39 intersects the river) but from there to theVirgin it might need some corrections. ] [Footnote 36: Some men from Kanab afterwards came in, sawed one in twoand made it shorter, and then tried to go up the canyon by towing. Theydid not get far, and the boat was abandoned. The floods then carriedboth down to destruction. ] [Footnote 37: A description of this journey ascribed to September, 1870, occurs at page 108, _et seq. _, in Powell's report on the _Exploration ofthe Colorado River of the West_, 1875. ] [Footnote 38: Oonupits or Innupits is the singular, Innupin the plural. It may be translated witch, elf, or goblin, with evil tendencies. On theother hand they did not fear a spirit. When on the Kaibab in July withChuar and several other Indians, Prof. While riding along heard a crysomething like an Indian halloo. "After we got into camp, " he said inhis diary: "Chuar asked George Adair what he called that which livedafter the body died. George replied, 'A spirit. ' 'Well, ' said Chuar, 'that was what hallooed in the forest to-day. It was the spirit of adead Indian. I have often heard it. Sometimes it is near, sometimes faraway. When I was here with Beaman I heard it call near me. I answered, telling it to come to me. It did not come nor reply, and I felt verymuch ashamed to think I had called. '"] [Footnote 39: For travelling across snow one should always be providedwith smoked goggles. Failing to have them, lines of charcoal should bedrawn below the eyes or a scarf tied so as to break the glare. ] INDEX A Adair, George, 153, 241 Adams, Nathan, 241, 253; his endowment garment, 259 Agua Grande, Navajo chief, 147 Aigles, Tirtaan, slogan, 75, 267 Alcove Brook, 47 Altitude of Colorado River above sea, Black's Fork, 15; Junction Green and Grand, 114; Paria, 151, 217; Grand Wash, 217; Little Colorado, 223; Kanab Canyon, 241 American Fork, 266 Amerind, viii. Andy, _see_ Hattan Aquarius Plateau, 200, 202 Arlington, Powell and Thompson buried there, 267 Arms, kind used, 12 Asa, ranch, 264, 265; assisted Powell, 265 Ashley, Wm. H. , through Red Canyon, 2, 28, 95; name on rocks, 28 Ashley Falls, 26; portage at, 27 Ashtishkal, Navajo chief, 177 Aspen Lakes, 201 Averett, Elijah, grave of, 197 Azure Cliffs, 99 B Baird, Professor Spencer, vi. Bangs, Mount, climbed, 194 Barbenceta, principal chief of the Navajos, 168 Base line, 166, 173, 174 Basor, teamster, 68 Beadle, J. H. , 215; under name of Hanson, 215 Beaman, E. O. , place in boat, 11; duty of, 11; leaves party, 179; passes Paria on way to Moki Towns, 216; up from Kanab Canyon to Surprise Valley, 241 Beaver, ground, 77; shoot one, 78; steak cooked, 78; soup, 78 Berry's Spring, 188; arrive at, 191 Berthoud and Bridger lay out waggon road, 67 Best Expedition, place of starting, 95 Big Boulder Creek, 202 Bishop, Francis Marion (Cap. ), place in boat, 11; duty of, 11; leaves party, 180 Bishop's Creek, 54 Bison, pictographs, 61; range on Green River, 61 Black Rock Canyon, 193 Black's Fork, 15 Boats of the Second Powell Expedition, the, 4; names of, 4; described, 5, 6; method of packing, 8; order of going, 11; crews of, 11; no iron on keels, 14; built to float when full of water, 25; reassignment of crews, 136, 215; _Cañonita_ cached, 135; launched again, 209; crew for, 209; _Dean_ cached, 154; _Nellie Powell_ cached, 154; _Dean_ discovered by Beadle, 215; _Nellie Powell_ abandoned, 215; _Cañonita_ and _Dean_ abandoned, 244 Bonito Bend, 111 Bonnemort, John, 143; leaves party, 179; in Salt Lake City, 267 Boston burned, news of, received, 256 Bow-knot Bend, 108 Bread, kind used, 4 Bridger and Berthoud lay out waggon road, 67 Bridger, Jim, 95 Brigham Young, 170, 185 Bright Angel Creek, arrive at mouth of, 232; why so named, 232 Brown expedition, place of starting, 95 Brown's Hole, name changed to Brown's Park, 18, 30; arrive at, 30 Brush Creek, 54 Buckskin Mountain (Kaibab Plateau), 159 Buenaventura, Rio San, Escalante's name for Green River, 67 Buffalo _Express_, letters from F. S. Dellenbaugh to, vii. Butte of the Cross, 110 C Campbell, Richard, knew of ford El Vado de los Padres, 96 Camp moved to the Gap, 171 _Cañonita_, left behind, 135; reached overland, 209 Canyon of Desolation, enter it, 77; character and height of walls, 80, 84, 85; length of, 91 Canyon of Lodore, enter it, 34; declivity of, 43; length of, 48; fall of, 48 Canyons, for list of, with heights of walls, lengths, etc. , see _The Romance of the Colorado River_, Appendix Canyons not dark in daytime, 25 Cap. , _see_ Bishop Capsize, of the _Cañonita_, 23; of the _Dean_, 235 Carleton, companion of Beaman, 216 Carson, Kit, 95 Cascade Creek, 43, 202 Cascades of rain, 105, 106, 132 Cataract Canyon, declivity compared, 43; beginning of, 115; height of walls, 116, 122, 126, 128, 129; we enter it, 118; declivity in, 118; boulders rolled by current, 118; width of river, 119; boat runs rapid alone, 121; stones rocked by current, 127; length of, 132; end of, 132; number of rapids, 132 Cataract Creek, 96, 202 Catastrophe Rapid, vi. , 242, 243 Caves once occupied, 132 Chandler Falls, 87; Creek, 87 Chicago, burning of, first news, 157 Chicago _Tribune_, letters from Clement Powell to, v. Chief Douglas, Major and Mrs. Powell winter near his camp, 172 Chocolate Cliffs, 166 Chuarooumpeak, chief of Kaibab band of Pai Utes, 250; shoots at Oonupits, 252; singing, 252; hears spirit call, 253; goes back to Kanab, 254 Circle Valley, pass through it, 266 Clarkson, Mormon settlement, 197 Clear or Spring Creek (Badger Creek), 158 Clem, _see_ Powell Clemente, Rio San, Escalante's name for White River, 67 Cliff-of-the-Harp named, 43 Coal Canyon, 91 Colob Plateau, 191 Colorado, from, into Utah, 56 Colorado River, accuracy of plat of course, vi. , vii. , 243; upper continuation of, 1; white salmon, 98; actual beginning of, 115; excessive high water, 244 Compass Creek, 24 Condition of party at end of first season's river work, 145 Course of the Colorado River, accuracy of, vi. , vii. , 243 Craggy Canyon, 57 Crater, recent, in Uinkaret country, 188 Creek, Sentinel, 149 Crescent Creek, 209 Crossing of the Fathers, the, _see_ El Vado de los Padres D Dance, Mormon, 173 Davy Crockett, Fort, 30 _Dean_, the _Emma_, cached for the winter, 154; discovered by J. H. Beadle, 215 Deer, game, etc. , 26 Dellenbaugh, Butte, 102, 104; Mount, named, 254; Thompson climbs it, 259 Dellenbaugh, F. S. , joins party, 3; position in boat, 11; duty of, 11; letters from, to Buffalo _Express_, vii. De Motte, Professor, 213 Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway, 119 Denver and Rio Grande Railway crossing of Green River, 95 Denver to Salt Lake, waggon road _via_ Golden and Provo, and Robideau Crossing of Green River, 67 Descent, in feet of Green-Colorado River, from Union Pacific Railway to Black's Fork, 15; to Flaming Gorge, 17; in Red Canyon, 33; in Lodore, 48; in Whirlpool, 56; to the mouth of the Uinta, 71; from Wonsits Valley to Gunnison Crossing, 93; from the Union Pacific to Gunnison Crossing, 93; from Gunnison Crossing to junction of Green and Grand, 114; from Union Pacific to mouth of Grand River, 114; from mouth of Grand River to Dirty Devil, 134; from Union Pacific to Dirty Devil (Frémont), 135; from Union Pacific to Paria (Lee Ferry), 151; from Paria to Little Colorado, 223; from Little Colorado to Grand Wash, 223; from Little Colorado to Kanab, 241; from Paria to Kanab, 241 Desolation, Canyon of, enter it, 77; perforations in walls of, 82; width of river in, 83, 89; height of walls, 84, 85; natural arches in, 87, 88; end of, 91; length of, 91 Diamond Butte, how named, 192 Diamond Creek mouth astronomically determined, 95 Diary, of Professor Thompson, vii. ; of John F. Steward, vii. ; of F. S. Dellenbaugh, vii. ; of Jack Summer, 7 Dinwiddie, Lieut. , 258 Dirty Devil Mountains, _see_ Unknown Mountains Dirty Devil (Frémont) River, viii. ; point of junction with Colorado, 3; failure to get to it overland, 70, 99; arrive at mouth by river, 133; overland trip to, 195; on head of, according to Dodds, 199; mistake discovered, 199, 200; reach mouth of, overland, 209 Disaster Falls, 39; dinner from wreckage of _No-name_, 40; fall of river at, 42 Distance, from Union Pacific Railway to Gate of Lodore, 33; to Echo Park, 48; to junction of Green and Grand, 114; to Dirty Devil, 135; Paria to Little Colorado, 223; Little Colorado to Kanab Canyon, 241; Wonsits Valley to Gunnison Crossing, 93. _See also_ Appendix, _Romance of the Colorado River_ Dixie, name for Virgin Valley, 164 Dodds, Captain Pardyn, fails to reach Dirty Devil River, 70; meet him at El Vado, 143 Dog, Dandie Dinmont, of Mrs. Thompson, 166, 195 Douglas Boy, first meeting with, 64; comes to mouth of Uinta, 70; an eloper, 71; farewell to, 76 Dummy and his prophecy, 9 Dunn, William H. , vi. ; name carved in Music Temple, 141; killed by Shewits, 141, 259 Dunn's Cliff, 43 Dutch oven, 4 Dutton, Major, vii. E Echo, Cliff, 49; Park, 49; Rock, 53; Peaks, how named, 151 Eight Mile Spring, camp at, 165 El Vado de los Padres (Crossing of the Fathers), 7, 8, 41, 95, 96; first white man to ford after Escalante, 96; arrive at, 1871, 143; description of, 168; arrive at, 1872, 210; early known by Richard Campbell, 96 Emma, Sister, a wife of John D. Lee, 211 Endowment garment, Adams wears one, 259 Epizoötic visits Utah, 262 Escalante, his crossing of the Colorado, 7; Sierra, 43; of Green River, 67; his name for Green River, 67; for White River, 67; River, 210; river named by Professor Thompson, 210 F Failure Creek, 129 Fennemore, joins party, 187; falls sick, 212; leaves party, 216; in Salt Lake, 267 Field, 5; arm-chair obtained from, 8; breakfast at, 9 Flaming Gorge, 1, 2; height of walls, 17; Green River enters, 17; accessibility, 20; gateway to the series of canyons, 22 Frank, _see_ Richardson Frank, Pai Ute, _see_ Chuarooumpeak Frémont, River, 3; _see_ Dirty Devil; General, 95; First Granite Gorge of the Grand Canyon, declivity in, 43 First Powell Expedition, v. ; plat of river by, vi. , 2, 96; boats of, x. Food supply exhausted, 141 Fort Davy Crockett, 30 Fort Defiance, Jacob Hamblin goes there, 143 Fort Pierce, 188 Fort Robideau, 67; only house on the river, 72 Fretwater Falls, 83 Fuzz, Mrs. Thompson's dog, 166, 195 G Gate of Lodore, 32 Gentile frontier town compared with Mormon, 174 Gila monster, 245 Gilbert, G. K. , vii. , 136 Glen Canyon, beginning, 137; width of river in, 139; height of walls, 139-143; end of, 151 Glencove, attempt to reach Dirty Devil River from, 99 Glendale, Mormon settlement, 262 Goblin City, journey to, 68; description of, 69 Gold, found on Colorado, 144; at mouth of Kanab, 174; miners go after, 185 Golden to Provo, waggon road, 67 Gosi-Utes, Gunnison killed by, 95 Gould's ranch, 190 Grand Canyon, Jacob Hamblin circumtours it, 96; Powell finds way in to the mouth of the Kanab, 174; Dodds and Jones get to it, 188; Whitmore describes a crossing, 188; Dodds and Johnson reach river, 189; Dodds and Dellenbaugh go to river at Lava Falls, 192; Marble division begins, 216; length of, including Marble Canyon, 217; beginning of, 223; enter it, 223 Grand River, 109 Grand Wash, 96; altitude of, 217 Granite, the, runs up, 225 Grant, news of election of, 256 Graves, ancient, discovered, 77 Gray Canyon, enter it, 91; colour, height, and character of walls, 91, 92; end of, 93; length of, 93 Gray Cliffs, 164 Great Basin, 164 Green River, points on, astronomically fixed before Powell, 19, 95 Green River City, arrive there, 3; described, 5; settlements below, 8 Green River Suck, 20 Green River Valley, 1, 2 Grizzly bears, 26 Gunnison, Captain, crossed Green River, 95; killed, 95 Gunnison Butte, 93, 99 Gunnison Crossing, Powell plans to rejoin his party there, 70 Gypsum Canyon, 127 H Habasu (Havasu), 96 Haight, 153, 157 Hamblin, Frank, 254 Hamblin, Fred, 99 Hamblin, Jacob, scout and pioneer, 96; first after Escalante to cross at El Vado, 96; circumtours the Marble and Grand canyons, 96; arrives at Paria, 153; treaty with Navajos, 168; title of his book, 169; Indian engagements, 170; goes to Mt. Trumbull with Powell, 170; wives of, 174; hears plot to ambush, 243 Hamblin, Joseph, 156, 241 Hamblin, Lyman, 99 Hanson, name assumed by J. H. Beadle, 215 Harrell brothers, camp in Brown's Park, 30 Hastele, Navajo chief, 169 Hattan, Andrew, 4; place in boat, 11; his call to meals, 11; departure, 260 Headquarters, winter, of, 1872-73, 260 Hell's Half Mill, 44 Henry Mountains (Unknown Mts. , _q. V. _), 207 Henry's Fork, mouth of, 17; astronomically fixed, 95 Henry, Professor Joseph, vi. Henry (Azure) Cliffs, 99 Hidden Lakes, the, 201 High Plateaus of Utah, continuation of Wasatch Range, 95; end of, 164 Hillers, John K. , joins party, 7; catches fish, 15; songs of, 52, 74; catches salmon, 98; photographer, 217; hurts his back, 225; trip to Moki towns, 248 Hog-backs, topographical feature described, 198 Hook, Theodore, drowned, 25; grave of, 25 Horse discovered, 90 Horse sense, 258, 264 Horseshoe Canyon, why so called, 21 Hotel Tovar, 232 House ruins, Shinumo, 112, 137, 138 House Rock Spring, 157, 160 House Rock Valley, 160, 175 Howland, Seneca, and O. G. , 141 Howlands and Dunn, vi. , vii. ; why killed by Shewits, 171; left first party, 242; killed near Mt. Dellenbaugh, 259 Hurricane Hill, 190 Hurricane Ledge, 190 I Illustrations in Powell's _Report_, x. Innupin, definition of, 252 Innupin Picavu (Water-pocket), 251 Island Park, 56 Ives, comes up Colorado, 1858, 2; reconnoitres south of Grand Canyon, 96; names North Side Mountains, 186 J Jack, _see_ Hillers Jacob, _see_ Hamblin Jacob's Pools, 159 Johnson, Will, 186; leaves party, 211 Johnson's, Mormon settlement 166 Jones, S. V. , 10; place in boat, 11; falls ill, 152; leaves, 260 Julien, D. , inscriptions by, 108, 113, 118 Junction, the, of the Grand and Green, 113; summit at, 116; trail to, 118 K Kaibab (Buckskin Mountain), seen from Echo Peaks, 150; band of Pai Utes, 177; trip to south-west corner of, 182; Point F established on, 184; seen from Marble Canyon, 222 Kanab, settlement of, 8; headquarters, 145; headquarters, winter of 1872-73, 260; description of, 166; base line near, 173; Christmas dance, 173 Kanab Canyon, journey up, 185, 244; supplies to be brought in there, 224 Kapurats, Pai Ute name for Major Powell, 171 Kettle Creek, 24 Killiloo, refrain, 75, 81, 226, 267 Kingfisher Canyon, 22; why so called, 22 Kingfisher Creek, 21 Kit Carson, 95 Koneco, Navajo chief, 154 L Labyrinth Canyon, enter it, 105; end of, 110; length of, 110 La Sal, Sierra, 103, 109, 127 Latter-Day Saints, 212 Lava Falls, Dodds and Dellenbaugh climb to river there, 192 Leaping Brook, 46 Lee, John Doyle, 195; settles at Paria, 210; meet him, 210; wife Rachel, 210; wife Emma (his XVIII. ), 210; called Naguts, 211; executed, 211 Lee Ferry, 215 Lehi, Mormon town, 262, 266 Let-down, 26; method of accomplishing a, 90 Letters from Clement Powell to the Chicago _Tribune_, v. ; from F. S. Dellenbaugh to the Buffalo _Express_, vii. Life preservers, 8; indispensable, 237 Light, the controversy of the, 63 Lighthouse Rock, 80 Lignite Canyon, 91 Line portage, 26 Little Brown's Hole, 29; name changed to Red Canyon Park, 29 Little Canyon, 31 Little Colorado, canyon of, forms division between Marble and Grand Canyons, 217; mouth of, 222; altitude of mouth, 223 Little White, or Price River, 92 Little Zion Valley, 190 Lodore Canyon, party goes through on the ice, 2; gate of, 32; why so called, 32; we enter it, 34; width of river in, 35, 42, 43; velocity of current in, 35, 42; sunlight in, 36; wreckage found in, 41; height of walls, 42, 43, 46; character of 42; declivity in, 43; end of, 48; length of, 48 Logan, Mt. , 188 Log-cabin Cliff, 84 Lonely Dell, 211 Long Valley, route _via_, 262 Lost Creek (Crescent Creek), 209 Louisa, a wife of Jacob Hamblin, 174, 195, 250 Lower Disaster Falls, 42 M MacEntee, 166; leaves party, 179; in Salt Lake, 267 Mackenzie, General, ix. , map A, facing page 95 Macomb, 95 "Major, The" viii. , _see_ Powell, John Wesley Mangum, Joseph, 153; the lost guide, 155, 157 Manti, Mormon settlement, 99, 174 Map, accuracy of plat of Colorado River, vi. , vii. , 243; sheets giving Colorado River, viii. ; preliminary, finished, 262; sent to Washington, 267 Marble Canyon, 150; miners wrecked in, 195, 217; enter it, 216; total length with Grand Canyon, 217; height of walls, 216, 217-222; end of 222; descent in, 223; number of rapids in, 223 Markargunt Plateau, 191 Meek, Joseph, goes through Lodore on the ice, 95 Melvin Falls, 86 Millecrag Bend, 129, 132 Moki (Hopi) ruin, 79 Monument built 1869 by Powell, 78 Mookoontoweap or Little Zion Valley, 190 Mormon, settlements, 96; method of pioneering, 167, 174; dance, 173 Mt. Carmel, Mormon settlement, 262 Mount Dellenbaugh, named, 254; altitude, 259; Shinumo remains on, 259 Mount Ellen, Henry Mountains, 208 Mount Hillers, Henry Mountains, 208 Mount Logan, 188, 253 Mount Nebo, 266 Mount Pennell, Henry Mountains, 207, 208 Mount Seneca Howland (Navajo Mt. ), 141 Mountain Meadows massacre, 195; Lee's version, 211 Music Temple, grotto, 141, 210 N Narrow Canyon, 3, 133 Natural arches in Canyon of Desolation, 87, 88 Navajos, agency, 143; meet with, 146; afraid of our boats, 153; dance with, 154; ceremonial, 177 Navajo Creek, 149 Navajo Mountain, 139, 141, 201 Navajo Well, 175, 248 Nephi, 266 New Year's Day, 1872, 174; 1873, 260 _No-name_, boat, wreck of, 38 North Side Mountains (Uinkaret Mts. ), 186 O Oak Spring, 187, 188, 191 Old Jacob, _see_ Jacob Hamblin Old Spanish Trail, 95, 246 Oonupits, sound made by, 252; described, 252; Indian shoots at, 252 Orange Cliffs, 110 Order of going, 11, 72, 136, 215 Overland Stage Co. Road, Salt Lake to Denver _via_ Provo, Robideau Crossing, and Golden, 67 P Paantung, Thompson's Shewits guide, 259 Painted Desert, 150 Pai Ute women, Jacob Hamblin, scaled to, 174; language without an "F, " 250; name for Major Powell, 250; name for Professor Thompson, 250; name for Dellenbaugh, 250; George, Waytoots, Chuar, 250; _see also_ Chuarooumpeak; method of cooking rabbits, 252 Pai Utes, despised by Navajos, 170; Kaibab band of, 177; wickiups, 177; arms, 178; rabbit skin robe, 178; fire obtained by drill, 178; ceremonial, 178; songs, 178, 179; stone arrowhead making, 178 Panguitch, arrive at, 265 Paria, 95, 151, 197; up cliffs at, 155; settlement, 166 Parowan, 248 Patnish, chief of renegades, 8, 167, 250 Photographic outfit, 6, 58 Pictographs, 61 Pierce, Fort, 188, 191 Pine Valley Mountains, 189, 190 Pink Cliffs, 164 Pipe Spring, 185; Wash, 185 Plateau Province, the, 109 Point F, 184 Portage, line, 26; method of making, 40 Potato Valley, 199 Powell, Clement, letters from to Chicago _Tribune_, v. ; place in boat, 11; duties of, 11; leaves party, 259 Powell, Emma Dean (Mrs. J. W. ), 7; and infant daughter, 165; in Middle Park, 172; leaves for Washington, 179 Powell, John Wesley (The Major), the conqueror of the Colorado, 2; title in Volunteer Army, 2; first descent of Colorado; v. , 3, 96, no right arm, 8; titles of reports, v. , vi. , position in boat, 11; duty of, 11; goes up Yampa, 50; on Yampa River 1868, 50; goes ahead to Uinta, 56; to Salt Lake, 67, 70, 99, 144, 179, 259, 266; songs of, 73; rejoins party, 98; fails to reach Dirty Devil overland, 99; leaves for Washington, 179, 259; reports through Smithsonian Institution, vi. ; runs course of river, vii; buried at Arlington, 267 Price River, 92 "Prof. , " viii. , _see_ Thompson, A. H. Provo to Golden, waggon road, 67 _Putnam's Magazine_, copy found, 43 R Rabbits, Pai Ute method of cooking, 252 Rain cascades, 105, 106, 132 Rapid, the first, 21; method of running, 35, 36; tails of, 36; eddys at, 36; Catastrophe, vi. , 242, 243 Rations, 4, 111, 119 Red Canyon, 2; entrance of, 22; upset of _Nellie Powell_ in, 23; width of river in, 24; speed of current, 24; height of cliffs, 24, 28; end of, 30 Red Canyon Park, 29 Red Cliff, 176 Red Lake Utes, Jacob pacifies them, 170; meet with band of, 204 Regiment marches from Salt Lake to Denver, 68 Renshawe, John, joins party, 259 Richardson, Frank C. A. , 10; position in boats, 11; skill in dressing deer, 16; leaves party, 31 Riggs, 157 Riggs, Charley, 248 Riley, George, 143; head of pack train, 156; cook, 260 Rio, San Buenaventura, 67; San Clemente, 67; San Rafael, 95, 103; San Juan, 140, 210 Robideau, crossing of Green River, 67; Fort, 67 Rocking stones in current, 127 Roundy, Lorenzo W. , 153 Rudder useless on the Colorado, x. S Sag, the, at Disaster Falls, 38 St. George, Mormon settlement, 194 Salmon, white, caught, 98 Salt Lake City, 7, 17; the major goes to, 67, 70, 99, 144, 179, 259, 266 Salt Lake to Denver, waggon road, _via_ Provo and Golden, 67 San Clemente, Rio, Escalante's name for White River, 67 San Francisco Mts. , seen from Mt. Trumbull, 187; from Echo Peaks, 250 San Juan River, mouth of, 140; pass it, 1872, 210 San Rafael River, 95; arrive at, 103 Santa Fé and Los Angeles trail, 94 Santa Fé Railway to the Grand Canyon, x. Scorpions, 132 Second Powell expedition, the, vi. , 3; material used for report on first expedition, vi. ; supplies of, 4; method of sacking rations, 6; ready to start, 8; personnel of, 11 Selden, 95 Sentinel Rock and Sentinel Creek, 149 Sevier Canyon, 266 Sharp Mountain Falls, 91 Shewits, killed Powell's men, vii. , 96; territory of, 186; afraid of us, 191; plan to ambush us, 243; meet us, 253; conference and agreement, 253; Thompson's guide, 259 Shinumo, the, 112, 149; trail, 113, 145; caves, 132; Canyon, 184; ruin on Mt. Dellenbaugh, 259 Shower Bath Spring, 245 Shunesburg, Powell descends Virgin River to, 248 Sierra, Escalante, 43; La Lal, 103; Abajo, 127 Simpson, Captain, 95 Sinav-to-weap, 117 Sister Emma, 211 Sister Louisa, 174 Smithsonian Institution, Powell reported through, vi. Snowblind, 266 Soap Creek, 159; Frank M. Brown, drowned near mouth of, 159, 217; Rapid, 217 "Sockdologer, of the World, " 222; rapid, 226 Songs of the camp, 73, 74 Sorghum molasses, 172 Spanish Fork, 266 Spanish Trail, Old, 95 Split Mountain Canyon, 57; enter it, 58; end of, 60; length of, 60 Springs in river bottom, 103 Stanton, R. B. , proves the White story incorrect, v. ; completed Brown expedition, ix. ; Canyon Railway project, x Steward, John F. , place in boat, 11; duty of, 11; on a raft, 16; discovers gigantic fossil, 20; determines nature of Unknown Mts. , 136; ill, 146; recovers, 152; leaves party, 160 Stewart, Bishop, of Kanab, 167; saw-mill of, on Kaibab, 181 Stewart, John, goes with Powell to Grand Canyon, 172; returns with news of gold find, 174 Stillwater Canyon, beginning of, 110; nature of walls, 111, 113; house ruins in, 112; width, 113; end of, 113; length, 114 Summit Valley, 164 Sumner Amphitheatre, 79 Sumner, Jack, 7 Supplies, nature of, 4; to be brought in at three places, 7 Surprise Valley, 241 Swallow Canyon, 31 Swallow Park, 197 T Table Mountain, 198 Tapeats Creek, 240 Tavaputs Plateau, 80 Teemaroomtekai, Uinkaret chief, 253 Teram Picavu, 254 Thompson, Professor Alvin Harris, vi. , vii. , ix. , 7; place in boat, 11; duty of, 11; first white man to explore Shewits country, 254; to climb Mt. Dellenbaugh, 259; buried at Arlington, 267 Thompson, Mrs. Ellen Powell, 7, 165, 166, 172, 181, 195, 216, 259 Tiravu Picavu, 254 Tirtaan Aigles, slogan, 75, 267 Tokerville, Mormon settlement, 190 Tom, Pai Ute guide, 197; leaves party, 199 Toroweap Valley, 192 Trachyte Creek, 208 Trail up cliffs of Paria, 155 _Tribune_, Chicago, letters to, from Clement Powell, v. Trin Alcove, 107 Triplet Falls, 43 Trumbull, Mt. , why so called, 186; climbed, 187, 192; height of, 187 Trumbull, Senator, 186 Tuba, a Moki (Hopi), goes home with Jacob, 169; ceremony on crossing Colorado River, 169 U Uinkaret, Indians, 186; region, 186; plateau, 190; chief, 253 Uinta, Indian Agency, 7, 8, 71 Uinta Mountains, 1; first view of from river, 15 Uinta River, pass mouth of, 76; arrival at, 66; Powell goes ahead to, 56; mouth astronomically determined, 95 Uinta Utes, 61 Undine Springs, 103 Union Pacific Railway, crossing of Green River, 3; _see_ Descent _and_ Distance Unknown country, the, 95, 96, 199, 200, 201, 202 Unknown Mountains (Henry Mts. ) viii. , 104, 127, 133; Steward determines nature of, 136; position of Dirty Devil (Frémont) River with reference to, 199; arrive at, 207; map of, 207 Untokarowits, Pai Ute name for F. S. Dellenbaugh, 250 Utah Southern Railway finished to Lehi, 262 Utah, from, into Colorado, 31 Utes of Wonsits Valley, Uinta and White River, 61 Ute Crossing of Colorado in Uinkaret region, 188 Ute Ford, the (El Vado de los Padres), 148 Ute law as applied to capture, 71 V Van Buren, Gentile settler on the Sevier, 266 Vasey's Paradise, 219 Vermilion Cliffs, 158, 164; length of, 164 Vermilion River, 31 Virgin Mountains, 194 Virgin River, canyon of, explored down to Shunesburg, 248; Little Zion or Mookoontoweap Valley of, 190 Volunteers march from Salt Lake to Denver, 68 Voyage, Canyon, the end of, 242 W Walcott, Professor, vii. Walker House, Salt Lake City, 267 Wasatch Cliffs, 200 Wheeler, Lieut. George M. , goes up Colorado to Diamond Creek, 145 Whirlpool Canyon, 53; end of, 55; descent in, 56 Whirlpools described, 239 Whiskey not taken, 6 White, James, 2; story of his trip through canyons disproved, v. White River, 66; journey down, 69; pass mouth, 76 White River Utes, 61 Whitmore, Dr. , killed by Navajos, 169; ranch, 188 Wild Band Pocket, 251 Winnie's Grotto, 35 Winsor, of Pipe Spring, 185; Castle, 185 Winter quarters, 1872-73, 260 Witch Water-pocket (Innupin Picavu), 251 Wolfskill, William, pioneer, 94 Wolves, 161, 162, 165 Wonsits Tiravu, 254 Wonsits Valley, 60 Woonoopits, _see_ Oonupits Workman's Ranch, 190 Wreckage found in Lodore, 41 Wyoming, from, into Utah, 16 Y Yampa River, 48, 49; Powell on it in 1868, 50; goes up, in boat, 50 Young, Brigham, 170, 185; Alfred, 187 -----------------------------------------------------------------| Transcriber's Notes: || || The original contained inconsistencies in spelling and || hypenation. The following variations were retained: || || air-line airline || arm-chair armchair || arrow-heads arrowheads || ball-room ballroom || bow-knot bowknot || near-by nearby || row-lock rowlock || sand-bank sandbank || school-house schoolhouse || ship-shape shipshape || south-westerly southwesterly || up-stream upstream || Clarkson Clarkston || Frémont Fremont || Konéco Koneco || De Motte DeMotte || || The following typographical errors in the original were || corrected: || || Pg 62: "eaving" to "leaving" || ("leaving us hardly a rock") || || Pg 175: "bame" to "came" || ("came to the edge") || || Pg 198: added "of" || ("like the roof of a house") || || Pg 220: "bat-battened" to "battened" || ("hatches firmly battened") || || Pg 229: "dashig" to "dashing" || ("water was dashing") || || Pg 250: "prononnced" to "pronounced" || ("in their language pronounced") || || Pg 273: "Canyon" to "Kanab Canyon" || ("Kanab Canyon, Journey up") || |-----------------------------------------------------------------