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OUTING ADVENTURE LIBRARY 
 
 FIRST THROUGH THE 
 GRAND CANYON 
 
 By major JOHN WESLEY POWELL iX^M-Hi 
 
 Being the Record of the Pioneer Exploration 
 of the Colorado River in 1869-70 
 
 EDITED BY 
 HORACE KEPHART 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 MCMXVI 
 
 ^C?t 
 

 Copyright, 1915, by 
 OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 All right* reserved. 
 
Bancroft Library 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The Colorado River of the West is 
 formed in southeastern Utah by the junc- 
 tion of the Grand and Green rivers. For 
 hundreds of miles it flows through a series 
 of profound chasms, in many places from 
 4,000 to 6,000 feet deep, and rising nearly 
 vertically for a considerable distance above 
 the water. These canons are from one to 
 fifteen miles wide at the top. The most 
 famous of them is the Marble-Grand 
 canon (really continuous, although it goes 
 under two names, the Marble and the 
 Grand) . Through this vast gorge the Col- 
 orado drops 2,330 feet in 283 miles, the cur- 
 rent sometimes attaining a velocity of 
 twenty-five miles an hour. The river itself 
 varies in width from seventy-five feet to a 
 quarter of a mile. In the narrowest places 
 it has at times a depth of over 100 feet. 
 
6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Up to 1869 practically nothing was 
 known of the Colorado River from its 
 source to where it emerges into the valley 
 of the Grand Wash, except what could be 
 observed from look-out points at the tops 
 of the canons, or from the few places where 
 descents had been made to the bottom. It 
 was a river of mystery and of fear. For 
 long distances it was supposed to flow un- 
 derground. There was no evidence that 
 any human being had ever passed through 
 the canons and come out alive. The In- 
 dians who lived in the neighborhood consid- 
 ered such a feat preposterous. 
 
 Then came a scientist and a man of 
 nerve. Major John Wesley Powell, who 
 studied the river carefully at several points 
 along its bank, and calmly decided to risk 
 his life in clearing up the mystery by navi- 
 gating the stream clear through to the 
 Wash. 
 
 The undertaking was all the more re- 
 markable from the fact that Powell had 
 only one arm. He had lost his right arm 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 in the battle of Shiloh. His plucky young 
 wife, to whom he had been married but a 
 month, was present at headquarters when 
 he was wounded, and promptly offered her- 
 self as a substitute for the missing limb so 
 that her husband could continue in service. 
 She then and there enlisted, and General 
 Grant gave her a "perpetual pass" to fol- 
 low the army in the capacity she had 
 chosen. With this help Major Powell con- 
 tinued in active service to the close of the 
 war. 
 
 In his student days Powell had made a 
 specialty of what was then called "natural 
 history." When the war was over he ac- 
 cepted a professorship of geology in the Il- 
 linois Wesleyan University, and later held 
 a similar chair in the Illinois Normal Uni- 
 versity. In the summer of 1867 he initiated 
 the practice of student field work by taking 
 his class to the mountains of Colorado for 
 geological exploration. It was on this trip 
 that he formed the idea of exploring the 
 canons of the Colorado River of the West. 
 
8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Having obtained funds from public institu- 
 tions of Illinois to outfit his little expedition, 
 he started from Green River City, above 
 the head of the Colorado proper. May 24, 
 1869, on one of the most hazardous adven- 
 tures in the history of exploration. He 
 emerged from the Grand Canon on August 
 29, with five of the nine men he had started 
 with. Foiu- had deserted on the way, and 
 three of these were killed by Indians. 
 
 Major Powell's report on this first ex- 
 ploration of the Colorado River was pub- 
 lished by the Smithsonian Institution in 
 1875. Together with the scientific data ap- 
 pended, it forms a large quarto volume, 
 which is now out of print. The narrative 
 part is here republished without abridge- 
 ment. 
 
 In 1870, Congress established a Topo- 
 graphical and Geological Survey of the Col- 
 orado River of the West, and Powell was 
 placed in charge of it. In 1871-1872 he 
 made a second descent of the river, this time 
 for the government. Again he came through 
 
INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 unharmed, proving his mastery of a species 
 of navigation so difficult that many who 
 have tried it in later years have perished in 
 those brawling waters. 
 
 Much of Powell's attention was given to 
 American ethnology, and when a Bureau of 
 Ethnology was formed by the government, 
 he was appointed its director. In 1881 he 
 succeeded Clarence King as director of the 
 TJ. S. Geological Survey. Major Powell 
 died September 23, 1902. 
 
 Horace Kephaet. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEB PAGE 
 
 I The Valley of the Colorado . . .15 
 
 II From Green River City to Flaming 
 
 Gorge ... 27 
 
 III From Flaming Gorge to the Gate of 
 
 LODORE 39 
 
 IV The Canyon of Lodore ..... 60 
 
 V From Echo Park to the Mouth of the 
 
 Uinta River 83 
 
 VI From the Mouth of the Uinta River to 
 
 Junction of the Grand and Green, . 113 
 
 VII From the Junction of the Grand and 
 Green to the Mouth of the Little 
 Colorado 142 
 
 VIII The Grand Canyon of the Colorado . 198 
 
 IX The Rio Virgen and the U-In-Ka-Ret 
 
 Mountains 258 
 
r^ 
 
 POWBbCS JOURNCV 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE VALLEY OE THE COLORADO 
 
 THE Colorado River is formed by 
 the junction of the Grand and 
 Green. 
 The Grand River has its source in the 
 Rocky Mountains, five or six miles west of 
 Long's Peak, in latitude 40° 17' and longi- 
 tude 105° 43' approximately. A group of 
 little alpine lakes, that receive their waters 
 directly from perpetual snow-banks, dis- 
 charge into a common reservoir, known as 
 Grand Lake, a beautiful sheet of water. Its 
 quiet surface reflects towering cliffs and 
 crags of granite on its eastern shore; and 
 stately pines and firs stand on its western 
 margin. 
 
 The Green River heads near Fremont's 
 Peak, in the Wind River Mountains, in lati- 
 
 15 
 
16 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 tude 43'' 15' and longitude 109° 45', approx- 
 imately. This river, like the last, has its 
 sources in alpine lakes, fed by everlasting 
 snows. Thousands of these little lakes, 
 with deep, cold, emerald waters, are embos- 
 omed among the crags of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. These streams, born in the cold, 
 gloomy sohtudes of the upper mountain re- 
 gion, have a strange, eventful history as they 
 pass down through gorges, tumbling in cas- 
 cades and cataracts, until they reach the hot, 
 arid plains of the Lower Colorado, where 
 the waters that were so clear above empty 
 as turbid floods into the Gulf of California. 
 
 The mouth of the Colorado is in latitude 
 81° 53' and longitude 115°. 
 
 The Green River is larger than the 
 Grand, and is the upper continuation of the 
 Colorado. Including this river, the whole 
 length of the stream is about two thousand 
 miles. The region of country drained by 
 the Colorado and its tributaries is about 
 eight hundred miles in length, and varies 
 from three hundred to five hundred in width, 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 17 
 
 containing about three hundred thousand 
 square miles, an area larger than all the New 
 England and Middle States, and Maryland 
 and Virginia added, or as large as Min- 
 nesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, and Mis- 
 souri. 
 
 There are two distinct portions of the 
 basin of the Colorado. The lower third is 
 but little above the level of the sea, though 
 here and there ranges of mountains rise to 
 an altitude of from two to six thousand feet. 
 This part of the valley is bounded on the 
 north by a line of cliffs, that present a bold, 
 often vertical step, hundreds or thousands 
 of feet to the table-lands above. 
 
 The upper two-thirds of the basin rises 
 from four to eight thousand feet above the 
 level of the sea. This high region, on the 
 east, north, and west, is set with ranges of 
 snow-clad mountains, attaining an altitude 
 above the sea varying from eight to fourteen 
 thousand feet. All winter long, on its 
 mountain-crested rim, snow falls, filling the 
 gorges, half burying the forests, and cover- 
 
18 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ing the crags and peaks with a mantle woven 
 by the winds from the waves of the sea — 
 a mantle of snow. When the simimer-sun 
 comes, this snow melts, and tumbles down 
 the mountain-sides in millions of cascades. 
 Ten million cascade brooks unite to form ten 
 thousand torrent creeks; ten thousand tor- 
 rent creeks unite to form a hundred rivers 
 beset with cataracts ; a hundred roaring riv- 
 ers imite to form the Colorado, which rolls, 
 a mad, turbid stream, into the Gulf of Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 Consider the action of one of these 
 streams: its source in the mountains, where 
 the snows fall; its course through the arid 
 plains. Now, if at the river's flood storms 
 were falling on the plains, its channel would 
 be cut but little faster than the adjacent 
 country would be washed, and the general 
 level would thus be preserved; but, under 
 the conditions here mentioned, the river 
 deepens its bed, as there is much through 
 corrosion and but little lateral degradation. 
 
 So all the streams cut deeper and still 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 19 
 
 deeper until their banks are towering cliffs 
 of solid rock. These deep, narrow gorges 
 are called canons. 
 
 For more than a thousand miles along its 
 course, the Colorado has cut for itself such 
 a canon ; but at some few points, where lat- 
 eral streams join it, the canon is broken, and 
 narrow, transverse valleys divide it properly 
 into a series of canons. 
 
 The Virgen, Kanab, Paria, Escalante, 
 Dirty Devil, San Rafael, Price, and Uinta 
 on the west, the Grand, Yampa, San Juan, 
 and Colorado Chiquito on the east, have also 
 cut for themselves such narrow, winding 
 gorges, or deep canons. Every river enter- 
 ing these has cut another canon; every lat- 
 eral creek has cut a canon; every brook runs 
 in a canon; every rill born of a shower, and 
 born again of a shower, and living only dur- 
 ing these showers, has cut for itself a canon ; 
 so that the whole upper portion of the basin 
 of the Colorado is traversed by a labyrinth 
 of these deep gorges. 
 
 Owing to a great variety of geological 
 
^0 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 conditions, these canons differ much in gen- 
 eral aspect. The Rio Virgen, between Long 
 Valley and the Mormon town of Schunes- 
 burgh, runs through Pa-ru'-nu-weap Canon, 
 often not more than twenty or thirty feet 
 in width, and from six hundred to one thou- 
 sand five hundred feet deep. 
 
 Away to the north, the Yampa empties 
 into the Green by a canon that I essayed to 
 cross in the fall of 1868, and was baffled from 
 day to day until the fourth had nearly passed 
 before I could find my way down to the 
 river. But thirty miles above its mouth, 
 this canon ends, and a narrow valley, with 
 a flood-plain, is found. Still farther up the 
 stream, the river comes down through an- 
 other canon, and beyond that a narrow val- 
 ley is found, and its upper course is now 
 through a canon and now a valley. 
 
 All these canons are alike changeable in 
 their topographic characteristics. 
 
 The longest canon through which the Col- 
 orado runs is that between the mouth of the 
 Colorado Chiquito and the Grand Wash, a 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 21 
 
 distance of two hundred and seventeen and 
 a half miles. But this is separated from an- 
 other above, sixty-five and a half miles in 
 length, only by the narrow canon-valley of 
 the Colorado Chiquito. 
 
 All the scenic features of this canon land 
 are on a giant scale, strange and weird. The 
 streams run at depths almost inaccessible; 
 lashing the rocks which beset their channels ; 
 rolling in rapids, and plunging in falls, and 
 making a wild music which but adds to the 
 gloom of the solitude. 
 
 The little valleys nestling along the 
 streams are diversified by bordering willows, 
 clumps of box-elder, and small groves of Cot- 
 tonwood. 
 
 Low mesaSj dry and treeless, stretch back 
 from the brink of the canon, often showing 
 smooth surfaces of naked, solid rock. In 
 some places, the country rock being com- 
 posed of marls, the surface is a bed of loose, 
 disintegrated material, and you walk through 
 it as in a bed of ashes. Often these marls 
 are richly colored and variegated. In other 
 
82 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 places, the country rock is a loose sandstone, 
 the disintegration of which has left broad 
 stretches of drifting sand, white, golden, and 
 vermilion. 
 
 Where this sandstone is a conglomerate, 
 a paving of pebbles has been left, a mosaic 
 of many colors, polished by the drifting 
 sands, and glistening in the sunlight. 
 
 After the canons, the most remarkable 
 features of the country are the long lines of 
 cUffs. These are bold escarpments, often 
 himdreds or thousands of feet in altitude, 
 great geographic steps, scores or hundreds 
 of miles in length, presenting steep faces of 
 rock, often quite vertical. 
 
 Having climbed one of these steps, you 
 may descend by a gentle, sometimes imper- 
 ceptible, slope to the foot of another. They 
 will thus present a series of terraces, the 
 steps of which are well-defined escarpments 
 of rock. The lateral extension of such a 
 line of cliffs is usually very irregular; sharp 
 salients are projected on the plains below. 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO 23 
 
 and deep recesses are cut into the terraces 
 above. 
 
 Intermittent streams coming down the 
 cliffs have cut many canons or canon valleys, 
 by which the traveler may pass from the 
 plain below to the terrace above. By these 
 gigantic stairways, you may ascend to high 
 plateaus, covered with forests of pine and 
 fir. 
 
 The region is further diversified by short 
 ranges of eruptive mountains. A vast sys- 
 tem of fissures — ^huge cracks in the rocks to 
 the depths below — extends across the coun- 
 try. From these crevices, floods of lava 
 have poured, covering mesas and table-lands 
 with sheets of black basalt. The expiring 
 energies of these volcanic agencies have 
 piled up huge cinder-cones, that stand along 
 the fissures, red, brown, and black, naked of 
 vegetation, and conspicuous landmarks, set, 
 as they are, in contrast to the bright, varie- 
 gated rocks of sedimentary origin. 
 
 These canon gorges, obstructing cliffs 
 
^4 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 and desert wastes, have prevented the trav- 
 eler from penetrating the country, so that, 
 until the Colorado River Exploring Expe- 
 dition was organized, it was almost unknown. 
 Yet enough had been seen to foment rumor, 
 and many wonderful stories have been told 
 in the hunter's cabin and prospector's camp. 
 Stories were related of parties entering the 
 gorge in boats, and being carried down with 
 fearful velocity into whirlpools, where all 
 were overwhelmed in the abyss of waters; 
 others, of undergroimd passages for the 
 great river, into which boats t-^d passed 
 never to be seen again. It was currently 
 believed that the river was lost under the 
 rocks for several hundred miles. There 
 were other accounts of great falls, whose 
 roaring music could be heard on the distant 
 mountain-summits. There were many 
 stories current of parties wandering on the 
 brink of the canon, vainly endeavoring to 
 reach the waters below, and perishing with 
 thirst at last in sight of the river which was 
 roaring its mockery into dying ears. 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE COLORADO ^S 
 
 The Indians, too, have woven the mys- 
 teries of the canons into the myths of their 
 rehgion. Long ago, there was a great and 
 wise chief, who mourned the death of his 
 wife, and would not be comforted until Ta- 
 vwoats, one of the Indian gods, came to him, 
 and told him she was in a happier land, and 
 offered to take him there, that he might see 
 for himself, if, upon his return, he would 
 cease to mourn. The great chief promised. 
 Then Ta-vwoats made a trail through the 
 mountains that intervene between that beau- 
 tiful land and this, the desert home of the 
 poor Nu'-ma. 
 
 This trail was the canon gorge of the Col- 
 orado. Through it he led him; and, when 
 they had returned, the deity exacted from 
 the chief a promise that he would tell no one 
 of the joys of that land, lest, through discon- 
 tent with the circumstances of this world, 
 they should desire to go to heaven. Then 
 he rolled a river into the gorge, a mad, rag- 
 ing stream, that should engulf any that might 
 attempt to enter thereby. 
 
^6 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 More than once have I been warned hy 
 the Indians not to enter this canon. They 
 considered it disobedience to the gods and 
 contempt for their authority, and believed 
 that it would surely bring upon me their 
 wrath. 
 
 For two years previous to the exploration, 
 I had been making some geological studies 
 among the heads of the canons leading to the 
 Colorado, and a desire to explore the Grand 
 Canon itself grew upon me. Early in the 
 spring of 1869, a small party was organized 
 for this purpose. Boats were built in Chi- 
 cago, and transported by rail to the point 
 where the Union Pacific Railroad crosses 
 the Green River. With these we were to 
 descend the Green into the Colorado, and the 
 Colorado down to the foot of the Grand 
 Canon, 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 FEOM GEEEN EIVER CITY TO FLAMING GORGE 
 
 MAY 24, 1869.— The good people of 
 (Green River City turn out to see 
 us start. We raise our little flag, 
 push the boats from shore, and the swift cur- 
 rent carries us down. 
 
 Our boats are four in number. Three are 
 built of oak; stanch and firm; double- 
 ribbed, with double stem and stern posts, 
 and further strengthened by bulkheads, di- 
 viding each into three compartments. 
 
 Two of these, the fore and aft, are decked, 
 forming water-tight cabins. It is expected 
 these will buoy the boats should the waves 
 roll over them in rough water. The little 
 yessels are twenty-one feet long, and, taking 
 out the cargoes, can be carried by four men. 
 
 tThe fourth boat is made of pine, very 
 
 27 
 
28 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 light, but sixteen feet in length, with a sharp 
 cut-water, and every way built for fast row- 
 ing, and divided into compartments as the 
 others. 
 
 We take with us rations deemed sufficient 
 to last ten months ; for we expect, when win- 
 ter comes on and the river is filled with ice, 
 to lie over at some point until spring arrives ; 
 so we take with us abundant supplies of 
 clothing. We have also a large quantity of 
 ammunition and two or three dozen traps. 
 For the purpose of building cabins, repair- 
 ing boats, and meeting other exigencies, we 
 are supplied with axes, hammers, saws, au- 
 gers, and other tools, and a quantity of nails 
 and screws. For scientific work, we have 
 two sextants, four chronometers, a number 
 of barometers, thermometers, compasses, and 
 other instruments. 
 
 The flour is divided into three equal parts; 
 the meat and all other articles of our rations 
 in the same way. Each of the larger boats 
 has an ax, hammer, saw, auger, and other 
 tools, so that all are loaded aUke. We dis- 
 
GREEN RIVER CITY 1t9 
 
 tribute the cargoes in this way, that we may 
 not be entirely destitute of some important 
 article should any one of the boats be lost. 
 In the small boat, we pack a part of the sci- 
 entific instruments, three guns, and three 
 small bundles of clothing only. In this, I 
 proceed in advance, to explore the channel. 
 
 J. C. Sumner and William H. Dunn are 
 my boatmen in the Emma Dean;* then 
 follows Kitty Clyde's Sister^ manned by 
 W. H. PoweU** and G. Y. Bradley; next, 
 the No Name, with O. G. Howland, Sen- 
 eca Howland, and Frank Goodman; and last 
 comes the Maid of the Canon, with W. R. 
 Hawkins and Andrew Hall. 
 
 Our boats are heavily loaded, and only 
 with the utmost care is it possible to float in 
 the rough river without shipping water. 
 
 A mile or two below town, we run on a 
 sand-bar. The men jump into the stream, 
 and thus lighten the vessels, so that they 
 
 * Mrs. Powell's maiden name. (Ed.) 
 
 **Capt. Walter Powell, the Major's youngest brother. 
 Besides the two Powells, Sumner, Bradley, and Hawkins 
 were ex-soldiers. (Ed.) 
 
so FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 drift over; and on we go. In trying to 
 avoid a rock, an oar is broken on one of the 
 boats, and, thus crippled, she strikes. The 
 current is swift, and she is sent reeling and 
 rocking into the eddy. In the confusion, 
 two others are lost overboard and the men 
 seem quite discomfited, much to the amuse- 
 ment of the other members of the party. 
 
 Catching the oars and starting again, the 
 boats are once more borne down the stream 
 until we land at a small cottonwood grove 
 on the bank, and camp for noon. 
 
 During the afternoon, we run down to a 
 point where the river sweeps the foot of an 
 overhanging cliff, and here we camp for the 
 night. The sun is yet two hours high, so 
 I climb the cliffs, and walk back among the 
 strangely carved rocks of the Green River 
 bad-lands. These are sandstones and 
 shales, gray and buff, red and brown, blue 
 and black strata in many alternations, lying 
 nearly horizontal, and almost without soil 
 and vegetation. They are very friable, and 
 
GREEN RIVER CITY 81 
 
 the rain and streams have carved them 
 into quaint shapes. Barren desolation is 
 stretched before me ; and yet there is a beauty 
 in the scene. The fantastic carving, imi- 
 tating architectural forms, and suggesting 
 rude but weird statuary, with the bright and 
 varied colors of the rocks, conspire to make 
 a scene such as the dweller in verdure-clad 
 hills can scarcely appreciate. 
 
 Standing on a high point, I can look oflf 
 in every direction over a vast landscape, with 
 salient rocks and cliffs glittering in the even- 
 ing Sim. Dark shadows are settling in the 
 valleys and gulches, and the heights are made 
 higher and the depths deeper by the glamour 
 and witchery of light and shade. 
 
 Away to the south, the Uinta Mountains 
 stretch in a long line ; high peaks thrust into 
 the sky, and snow-fields glittering like lakes 
 of molten silver; and pine-forests in somber 
 green; and rosy clouds playing around the 
 borders of huge, black masses; and heights 
 and clouds, and mountains and snow-fields, 
 
32 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 and forests and rock-lands, are blended into 
 one grand view. Now the sun goes down, 
 and I return to camp. 
 
 May 25. — ^We start early this morning, 
 and run along at a good rate until about nine 
 o'clock, when we are brought up on a grav- 
 elly bar. All jump out, and help the boats 
 over by main strength. Then a rain comes 
 on, and river and clouds conspire to give us 
 a thorough drenching. Wet, chilled, and 
 tired to exhaustion, we stop at a cottonwood 
 grove on the bank, build a huge fire, make 
 a cup of coffee, and are soon refreshed and 
 quite merry. When the clouds 'get out of 
 our sunshine," we start again. A few miles 
 farther down, a flock of mountain-sheep are 
 seen on a cliff to the right. The boats are 
 quietly tied up, and three or four men go 
 after them. In the course of two or three 
 hours, they return. The cook has been suc- 
 cessful in bringing down a fat lamb. The 
 unsuccessful hunters taunt him with finding 
 it dead; but it is soon dressed, cooked, and 
 eaten, making a fine four o'clock dinner. 
 
GREEN RIVER CITY 3S 
 
 "All aboard," and down the river for an- 
 other dozen miles. On the way, we pass the 
 mouth of Black's Fork, a dirty little stream 
 that seems somewhat swollen. Just below 
 its mouth, we land and camp. 
 
 May 26. — To-day, we pass several curi- 
 ously-shaped buttes, standing between the 
 west bank of the river and the high bluffs 
 beyond. These buttes are outHers of the 
 same beds of rocks exposed on the faces of 
 the bluffs; thinly laminated shales and sand- 
 stones of many colors, standing above in 
 vertical cliffs, and buttressed below with a 
 water-carved talus; some of them attain an 
 altitude of nearly a thousand feet above the 
 level of the river. 
 
 .We glide quietly down the placid stream 
 past the carved cliffs of the mauvaises terres, 
 now and then obtaining glimpses of distant 
 mountains. Occasionally, deer are started 
 from the glades among the willows ; and sev- 
 eral wild geese, after a chase through the 
 water, are shot. 
 
 After dinner, we pass through a short. 
 
84 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 narrow canon into a broad valley; from this, 
 long, lateral valleys stretch back on either 
 side as far as the eye can reach. 
 
 Two or three miles below, Henry's Fort 
 enters from the right. We land a short dis- 
 tance above the j miction, where a cache of 
 instruments and rations was made several 
 months ago, in a cave at the foot of the cliff, 
 a distance back from the river. Here it was 
 safe from the elements and wild beasts, but 
 not from man. Some anxiety is felt, as we 
 have learned that a party of Indians have 
 been camped near it for several weeks. Our 
 fears are soon allayed, for we find it all right. 
 Our chronometer wheels are not taken for 
 hair ornaments; our barometer tubes, for 
 beads; nor the sextant thrown into the river 
 as "bad medicine," as had been predicted. 
 
 Taking up our cache^ we pass down to 
 the foot of the Uinta Mountains, and, in a 
 cold storm, go into camp. 
 
 The river is running to the south; the 
 mountains have an easterly and westerly 
 trend directly athwart its course, yet it glides 
 
GREEN RIVER CITY dA 
 
 on in a quiet way as if it thought a mountain 
 range no formidable obstruction to its course. 
 It enters the range by a flaring, brilliant, red 
 gorge, that may be seen from the north a 
 score of miles away. 
 
 The great mass of the mountain-ridge 
 through which the gorge is cut is composed 
 of bright vermilion rocks; but they are sur- 
 mounted by broad bands of mottled buff and 
 gray, and these bands come down with a gen- 
 tle curve to the water's edge on the nearer 
 slope of the mountain. 
 
 This is the head of the first canon we are 
 about to explore — ^an introductory one to 
 a series made by the river through this range. 
 We name it Flaming Gorge. The cliflfs or 
 walls we find, on measurement, to be about 
 one thousand two hundred feet high. 
 
 May 27. — To-day it rains, and we employ 
 the time in repairing one of our barometers, 
 which was broken on the way from New 
 lYork. A new tube has to be put in; that is, 
 a long glass tube has to be filled with mer- 
 cury four or five inches at a time, and each 
 
36 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 installment boiled over a spirit-lamp. It 
 is a delicate task to do this without breaking 
 the glass; but we have success, and are ready 
 to measure the mountains once more. 
 
 May 28. — To-day we go to the summit of 
 the cliff on the left and take observations for 
 altitude, and are variously employed in topo- 
 graphic and geological work. 
 
 May 29 — This morning, Bradley and I 
 cross the river, and chmb more than a thou- 
 sand feet to a point where we can see the 
 stream sweeping in a long, beautiful curve 
 through the gorge below. Turning and 
 looking to the west, we can see the valley of 
 Henry's Fork, through which, for many 
 miles, the little river flows in a tortuous chan- 
 nel. Cottonwood groves are planted here 
 and there along its course, and between them 
 are stretches of grass land. The narrow 
 mountain valley is inclosed on either side by 
 sloping walls of naked rock of many bright 
 colors. To the south of the valley are the 
 Uintas, and the peaks of the Wasatch Moun- 
 tains can be faintly seen in the far west. To 
 
GREEN RIVER CITY 8T 
 
 the north, desert plains, dotted here and there 
 with curiously carved hills and buttes, extend 
 to the limit of vision. 
 
 For many years, this valley has been the 
 home of a number of mountaineers, who 
 were originally hunters and trappers, living 
 with the Indians. Most of them have one 
 or more Indian wives. They no longer 
 roam with the nomadic tribes in pursuit of 
 buckskin or beaver, but have accumulated 
 herds of cattle and horses, and consider them- 
 selves quite well-to-do. Some of them have 
 built cabins ; others still live in lodges. 
 
 John Baker is one of the most famous of 
 these men; and, from our point of view, we 
 can see his lodge three or four miles up the 
 river. 
 
 The distance from Green River City to 
 Flaming Gorge is sixty-two miles. The 
 river runs between bluffs, in some places 
 standing so close to each other that no flood- 
 plain is seen. At such a point, the river 
 might properly be said to run through a 
 canon. The bad-lands on either side are in- 
 
S8 iPmST THROUGH GRaND CANYON 
 
 terrupted here and there by patches of 
 Artemesia, or sage-brush. Where there is 
 a flood-plain along either side of the river, 
 a few cottonwoods may be seen. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 FROM FLAMING GORGE TO THE GATE OP 
 LODORE 
 
 YOU must not think of a mountain- 
 range as a line of peaks standing 
 on a plain, but as a broad plat- 
 form many miles wide, from which moun- 
 tains have been carved by the waters. You 
 must conceive, too, that this plateau is cut 
 by gulches and canons in many directions, 
 and that beautiful valleys are scattered about 
 at different altitudes. The first series of 
 canons we are about to explore constitutes a 
 river channel through such a range of moun- 
 tains. The canon is cut nearly half-way 
 through the range, then turns to the east, 
 and is cut along the central line, or axis, 
 gradually crossing it to the south. Keep- 
 ing this direction for more than fifty miles, 
 
 39 
 
40 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 it then turns abruptly to a southwest course, 
 and goes diagonally through the southern 
 slope of the range. 
 
 This much we knew before entering, as 
 we made a partial exploration of the region 
 last fall, climbing many of its peaks, and in 
 a few places reaching the brink of the canon 
 walls, and looking over the precipices, many 
 hundreds of feet high, to the water below. 
 
 Here and there the walls are broken by 
 lateral canons, the channels of little streams 
 entering the river; through two or three of 
 these, we f oimd our way down to the Green 
 in early winter, and walked along the low 
 water-beach at the foot of the cliffs for sev- 
 eral miles. Where the river has this gen- 
 eral easterly direction, the western part only 
 has cut for itself a canon, while the eastern 
 has formed a broad valley, called, in honor 
 of an old-time trapper. Brown's Park, and 
 long known as a favorite winter resort for 
 moimtain men and Indians. 
 
 May 30. — This morning we are ready to 
 enter the mysterious canon, and start with 
 
FLAMING GORGE 41 
 
 some anxiety. The old mountaineers tell us 
 that it cannot be run; the Indians say, "Wa- 
 ter heap catch 'em," but all are eager for the 
 trial, and off we go. 
 
 Entering Flaming Gorge, we quickly run 
 through it on a swift current, and emerge 
 into a little park. Half a mile below, the 
 river wheels sharply to the left, and we 
 turn into another canon cut into the moun- 
 tain. We enter the narrow passage. On 
 either side, the walls rapidly increase in 
 altitude. On the left are overhanging 
 ledges and cliffs five hundred — a thousand — 
 fifteen hundred feet high. 
 
 On the right, the rocks are broken and 
 ragged, and the water fills the channel from 
 cliff to cliff. Now the river turns abruptly 
 around a point to the right, and the waters 
 plunge swiftly down among great rocks ; and 
 here we have our first experience with caiion 
 rapids. I stand up on the deck of my boat 
 to seek a way among the wave beaten rocks. 
 All untried as we are with such waters, the 
 moments are filled with intense anxiety. 
 
42 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Soon our boats reach the swift current; a 
 stroke or two, now on this side, now on that, 
 and we thread the narrow passage with ex- 
 hilarating velocity, mounting the high waves, 
 whose foaming crests dash over us, and 
 plunging into the troughs, until we reach 
 the quiet water below; and then comes a feel- 
 ing of great relief. Our first rapid is run. 
 Another mile, and we come into the valley 
 again. 
 
 Let me explain this canon. Where the 
 river turns to the left above, it takes a course 
 directly into the mountain, penetrating to 
 its very heart, then wheels back upon itself, 
 and runs out into the valley from which it 
 started only half a mile below the point at 
 which it entered ; so the canon is in the form 
 of an elongated letter U, with the apex in 
 the center of the moimtain. We name it 
 Horseshoe Canon. 
 
 Soon we leave the valley, and enter an- 
 other short canon, very narrow at first, but 
 widening below as the canon walls increase 
 in height. Here we discover the mouth of 
 
FLAMING GORGE 48 
 
 a beautiful little creek, coming down through 
 its narrow water worn cleft. Just at its en- 
 trance there is a park of two or three hun- 
 dred acres, walled on every side by almost 
 vertical cliffs, hundreds of feet in altitude, 
 with three gateways through the walls — one 
 up, another down the river, and a third pas- 
 sage through which the creek comes in. The 
 river is broad, deep, and quiet, and its waters 
 mirror towering rocks. 
 
 Kingfishers are playing about the 
 streams, and so we adopt as names King- 
 fisher Creek, Kingfisher Park, and King- 
 fisher Canon. At night, we camp at the foot 
 of this canon. 
 
 Our general course this day has been south, 
 but here the river turns to the east around 
 a point which is rounded to the shape of a 
 dome, and on its sides little cells have been 
 carved by the action of the water; and in 
 these pits, which cover the face of the dome, 
 hundreds of swallows have built their nests. 
 As they flit about the cliffs, they look like 
 swarms of bees, giving to the whole the ap- 
 
U FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 pearance of a colossal beehive of the old time 
 form, and so we name it Beehive Point. 
 
 The opposite wall is a vast amphitheater, 
 rising in a succession of terraces to a height 
 of 1,200 or 1,500 feet. Each step is built 
 of red sandstone, with a face of naked, red 
 rock, and a glacis clothed with verdure. So 
 the amphitheater seems banded red and 
 green, and the evening sun is playing with 
 roseate flashes on the rocks, with shimmering 
 green on the cedars' spray, and iridescent 
 gleams on the dancing waves. The land- 
 scape revels in the sunshine. 
 
 May 31. — ^We start down another canon, 
 and reach rapids made dangerous by high 
 rocks lying in the channel; so we run ashore, 
 and let our boats down with lines. In the 
 afternoon we come to more dangerous rap- 
 ids, and stop to examine them. I find we 
 must do the same work again, but, being 
 on the wrong side of the river to obtain a 
 foothold, must first cross over — ^no very easy 
 matter in such a current, with rapids and 
 rocks below. We take the pioneer boat 
 
FLAIMING GORGE 45 
 
 Emma Dean over, and unload her on the 
 bank; then she returns and takes another 
 load. Running back and forth, she soon has 
 half our cargo over; then one of the larger 
 boats is manned and taken across, but car- 
 ried down almost to the rocks in spite of 
 hard rowing. The other boats follow and 
 make the landing, and we go into camp for 
 the night. 
 
 At the foot of the chff on this side, there 
 is a long slope covered with pines; under 
 these we make our beds, and soon after sun- 
 set are seeking rest and sleep. The cliffs on 
 either side are of red sandstone, and stretch 
 up toward the heavens 2,500 feet. On this 
 side, the long, pine clad slope is surmounted 
 by perpendicular cliifs, with pines on their 
 summits. The wall on the other side is bare 
 rock from the water's edge up 2,000 feet, 
 then slopes back, giving footing to pines and 
 cedars. 
 
 As the twilight deepens, the rocks grow 
 dark and somber; the threatening roar of 
 the water is loud and constant, and I lie 
 
46 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 awake with thoughts of the morrow and the 
 canons to come, interrupted now and then 
 by characteristics of the scenery that attract 
 my attention. And here I make a discov- 
 ery. On looking at the mountain directly 
 in front, the steepness of the slope is greatly 
 exaggerated, while the distance to its sum- 
 mit and its true altitude are correspondingly 
 diminished. I have heretofore found that 
 to properly judge of the slope of a mountain 
 side, you must see it in profile. In coming 
 down the river this afternoon, I observed 
 the slope of a particular part of the wall, 
 and made an estimate of its altitude. While 
 at supper, I noticed the same cliff from a 
 position facing it, and it seemed steeper, but 
 not half as high. Now lying on my side and 
 looking at it, the true proportions appear. 
 This seems a wonder, and I rise up to take 
 a view of it standing. It is the same cliff 
 as at supper time. Lying down again, it 
 is the cliff as seen in profile, with a long slope 
 and distant summit. Musing on this, I for- 
 get "the morrow and the canons to come." 
 
FLAMING GORGE 47 
 
 I find a way to estimate the altitude and 
 slope of an inclination as I can judge of 
 distance along the horizon. The reason is 
 simple. A reference to the stereoscope will 
 suggest it. The distance between the eyes 
 forms a base-line for optical triangulation. 
 
 June 1. — To-day we have an exciting 
 ride. The river rolls down the canon at a 
 wonderful rate, and, with no rocks in the 
 way, we make almost railroad speed. Here 
 and there the water rushes into a narrow 
 gorge; the rocks on the side roll it into the 
 center in great waves, and the boats go leap- 
 ing and bounding over these like things of 
 life. They remind me of scenes witnessed 
 in Middle Park; herds of startled deer 
 bounding through forests beset with fallen 
 timber. I mention the resemblance to some 
 of the hunters, and so striking is it that it 
 comes to be a common expression, "See the 
 black-tails jumping the logs." At times the 
 waves break and roll over the boats, which 
 necessitates much bailing, and obliges us to 
 stop occasionally for that purpose. At one 
 
48 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 time, we run twelve miles an hour, stoppages 
 included. 
 
 Last spring, I had a conversation with 
 an old Indian named Pa'-ri-ats, who told me 
 about one of his tribe attempting to run 
 this canon. "The rocks," he said, holding 
 his hands above his head, his arms vertical, 
 and looking between them to the heavens, 
 "the rocks h-e-a-p, h-e-a-p high; the water 
 go h-oo-woogh, h-oo-woogh; water-pony 
 (boat) h-e-a-p buck; water catch 'em; no 
 see 'em Injun any more! no see 'em squaw 
 any more! no see 'em pappoose any more!" 
 
 Those who have seen these wild Indian 
 ponies rearing alternately before and behind, 
 or "bucking," as it is called in the vernacu- 
 lar, will appreciate his description. 
 
 At last we come to calm water, and a 
 thi-eatening roar is heard in the distance. 
 Slowly approaching the point whence the 
 sound issues, we come near to falls, and tie 
 up just above them on the left. Here we 
 will be compelled to make a portage; so we 
 unload the boats, and fasten a long line to 
 
FLAMING GORGE 49 
 
 the bow, and another to the stern, of the 
 smaller one, and moor her close to the brink 
 of the fall. Then the bow-line is taken be- 
 low, and made fast; the stern-line is held 
 by five or six men, and the boat let down 
 as long as they can hold her against the 
 rushing waters ; then, letting go one end of 
 the line, it runs through the ring; the boat 
 leaps over the fall, and is caught by the lower 
 rope. 
 
 Now we rest for the night. 
 
 June 2. — This morning we make a trail 
 among the rocks, transport the cargoes to a 
 point below the falls, let the remaining boats 
 over, and are ready to start before noon. 
 
 On a high rock by which the trail passes 
 we find the inscription: "Ashley 18-5." 
 The third figure is obscure — some of the 
 party reading it 1835, some 1855.* 
 
 James Baker, an old time mountaineer, 
 once told me about a party of men starting 
 
 * General Ashley, the fur trader, made his last journey 
 Into the Far West before 1835. The man here mentioned 
 must have been someone else, of the same family name. 
 {Ed.) ^,-/ .:.,_ . >;r \/>^^^ 
 
 \ 
 
60 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 down the river, and Ashley was named as 
 one. The story runs that the boat was 
 swamped, and some of the party drowned 
 in one of the canons below. The word 
 "Ashley" is a warning to us, and we resolve 
 on great caution. 
 
 Ashley Falls is the name we give to the 
 cataract. 
 
 The river is very narrow; the right wall 
 vertical for two or three hundred feet, the 
 left towering to a great height, with a vast 
 pile of broken rocks lying between the foot 
 of the cliff and the water. Some of the 
 rocks broken down from the ledge above 
 have tumbled into the channel and caused 
 this fall. One great cubical block, thirty 
 or forty feet high, stands in the middle of 
 the stream, and the waters, parting to either 
 side, plunge down about twelve feet, and are 
 broken again by the smaller rocks into a 
 rapid below. Immediately below the falls, 
 the water occupies the entire channel, there 
 being no talus at the foot of the cliffs. 
 
3FLAMING GORGE HI 
 
 We embark, and run down a short dis- 
 tance, where we find a landing-place for din- 
 ner. 
 
 On the waves again all the afternoon. 
 Near the lower end of this canon, to which 
 we have given the name Red Canon, is a 
 little park, where streams come down from 
 distant mountain summits, and enter the 
 river on either side; and here we camp for 
 the night under two stately pines. 
 
 June 3. — This morning we spread our ra- 
 tions, clothes, &c., on the ground to dry, and 
 several of the party go out for a hunt. I 
 take a walk of five or six miles up to a pine 
 grove park, its grassy carpet bedecked with 
 crimson, velvet flowers, set in groups on the 
 stems of pear shaped cactus plants ; patches 
 of painted cups are seen here and there, with 
 yellow blossoms protruding through scarlet 
 bracts; little blue-eyed flowers are peeping 
 through the grass; and the air is filled with 
 fragrance from the white blossoms of a 
 Spircea. A mountain brook runs through 
 
62 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the midst, ponded below by beaver dams. 
 It is a quiet place for retirement from the 
 raging waters of the canon. 
 
 It will be remembered that the com'se of 
 the river, from Flaming Gorge to Beehive 
 Point, is in a southerly direction, and at right 
 angles to the Uinta Mountains, and cuts 
 into the range until it reaches a point within 
 five miles of the crest, where it turns to the 
 east, and pursues a course not quite parallel 
 to the trend of the range, but crosses the 
 axis slowly in a direction a little south of 
 east. Thus there is a triangular tract be- 
 tween the river and the axis of the moun- 
 tain, with its acute angle extending east- 
 ward. I climb a mountain overlooking this 
 country. To the east, the peaks are not 
 very high, and already most of the snow has 
 melted; but little patches lie here and there 
 under the lee of ledges of rock. To the west, 
 the peaks grow higher and the snow fields 
 larger. Between the brink of the canon and 
 the foot of these peaks, there is a high bench. 
 A number of creeks have their sources in 
 
FLAMING GORGE 53 
 
 the snow banks to the south, and run north 
 into the canon, tumbling down from 3,000 
 to 5,000 feet in a distance of five or six miles. 
 Along their upper courses, they run through 
 grassy valleys; but, as they approach Red 
 Canon, they rapidly disappear under the 
 general surface of the country, and emerge 
 into the canon below in deep, dark gorges 
 of their own. Each of these short lateral 
 canons is marked by a succession of cascades 
 and a wild confusion of rocks and trees and 
 fallen timber and thick undergrowth. 
 
 The httle valleys above are beautiful 
 parks; between the parks are stately pine 
 forests, half hiding ledges of red sandstone. 
 Mule-deer and elk abound; grizzly bears, too, 
 are abundant; wild cats, wolverines, and 
 mountain lions are here at home. The for- 
 est aisles are filled with the music of birds, 
 and the parks are decked with flowers. 
 Noisy brooks meander through them; ledges 
 of moss-covered rocks are seen; and gleam- 
 ing in the distance are the snow fields, and 
 the mountain tops are away in the clouds. 
 
54j first through GRAND CANYON 
 
 June 4. — ^We start early and run througE 
 to Brown's Park. Half way down the val- 
 ley, a spur of a red mountain stretches across 
 the river, which cuts a canon through it, 
 Here the walls are comparatively low, but 
 vertical. A vast number of swallows have 
 built their adohe houses on the face of the 
 cliffs, on either side of the river. The waters 
 are deep and quiet, but the swallows are 
 swift and noisy enough, sweeping by in their 
 curved paths through the air, or chattering 
 from the rocks. The young birds stretch 
 their little heads on naked necks through the 
 doorways of their mud houses, clamoring for 
 food. They are a noisy people. 
 
 We call this Swallow Canon. 
 
 Still down the river we glide, until an early 
 hour in the afternoon, when we go into camp 
 imder a giant cottonwood, standing on the 
 right bank, a little way back from the stream. 
 The party had succeeded in killing a fine lot 
 of wild ducks, and during the afternoon a 
 mess of fish is taken. 
 
FLAMING GORGE 65 
 
 'June 5. — With one of the men, I climb 
 a mountain, off on the right. A long spur, 
 with broken ledges of rocks, puts down to 
 the river; and along its course, or up the 
 "hog-back,'' as it is called, I make the ascent. 
 Dunn, who is climbing to the same point, is 
 coming up the gulch. Two hours' hard 
 work has brought us to the simimit. These 
 mountains are all verdure clad ; pine and ce- 
 dar forests are set on green terraces; snow 
 clad mountains are seen in the distance, to the 
 west; the plains of the upper Breen stretch 
 out before us, to the north, until they are lost 
 in the blue heavens ; but half of the river cleft 
 range intervenes, and the river itself is at 
 our feet. 
 
 This half range, beyond the river, is com- 
 posed of long ridges, nearly parallel with 
 the valley. On the farther ridge, to the 
 north, four creeks have their sources. These 
 cut through the intervening ridges, one of 
 which is much higher than that on which 
 they head, by canon gorges; then they run. 
 
66 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 with gentle curves, across the valley, their 
 banks set with willows, box-elders, and Cot- 
 tonwood groves. 
 
 To the east, we look up the valley of the 
 iVermilion, through which Fremont found 
 his path on his way to the great parks of 
 Colorado. 
 
 The reading of the barometer taken, we 
 start down in company, and reach camp tired 
 and hungry, which does not abate one bit our 
 enthusiasm, as we tell of the day's work, 
 with its glory of landscape. 
 
 June 6. — At daybreak, I am awakened 
 by a chorus of birds. It seems as if all the 
 feathered songsters of the region have come 
 to the old tree. Several species of warblers, 
 woodpeckers, and flickers above, meadow- 
 larks in the grass, and wild geese in the river. 
 I recline on my elbow, and watch a lark near 
 by, and then awaken my bed fellow, to listen 
 to my Jenny Lind. A morning concert for 
 me ; none of your '' matinees f' 
 
 Our cook has been an ox-driver, or "bull- 
 whacker," on the plains, in one of those long 
 
FLAMING GORGE 67 
 
 trains now no longer seen, and he hasn't 
 forgotten his old ways. In the midst of the 
 concert, his voice breaks in : "Roll out ! roll 
 out! bulls in the corral! chain up the gaps! 
 Roll out ! roll out ! roll out !" And this is our 
 breakfast bell. 
 
 To-day we pass through the park, and 
 camp at the head of another canon. 
 
 June 7. — To-day, two or three of us climb 
 to the summit of the cliff, on the left, and 
 find its altitude, above camp, to be 2,086 
 feet. The rocks are split with fissures, deep 
 and narrow, sometimes a hundred feet, or 
 more, to the bottom. Lofty pines find root 
 in the fissures that are filled with loose earth 
 and decayed vegetation. On a rock we find 
 a pool of clear, cold water, caught from yes- 
 terday evening's shower. After a good 
 drink, we walk out to the brink of the canon, 
 and look down to the water below. I can 
 do this now, but it has taken several years 
 of mountain climbing to cool my nerves, so 
 that I can sit, with my feet over the edge, 
 and calmly look down a precipice 2,000 feet. 
 
58 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 And yet I cannot look on and see another 
 do the same. I must either bid him come 
 away, or turn my head. 
 
 The canon walls are buttressed on a grand 
 scale, with deep alcoves intervening; col- 
 umned crags crown the cliffs, and the river 
 is rolling below. 
 
 When we return to camp, at noon, the 
 sun shines in splendor on vermilion walls, 
 shaded into green and gray, where the rocks 
 are lichened over; the river fills the channel 
 from wall to wall, and the canon opens, hke 
 a beautiful portal, to a region of glory. 
 
 This evening, as I write, the sun is going 
 down, and the shadows are settling in the 
 canon. The vermilion gleams and roseate 
 hues, blending with the green and gray tints, 
 are slowly changing to somber brown above, 
 and black shadows are creeping over them 
 below; and now it is a dark portal to a region 
 of gloom — the gateway through which we 
 are to enter on our voyage of exploration to- 
 morrow. What shall we find? 
 
 The distance from Flaming Gorge to 
 
FLAMING GORGE 59 
 
 Beehive Point is nine and two-thirds miles. 
 Besides, passing through the gorge, the river 
 runs through Horseshoe and Kingfisher 
 Canons, separated by short valleys. The 
 highest point on the walls, at Flaming 
 Gorge, is 1,300 feet above the river. The 
 east wall, at the apex of Horseshoe Canon, 
 is about 1,600 feet above the water's edge, 
 and, from this point, the walls slope both to 
 the head and foot of the canon. 
 
 Kingfisher Canon, starting at the water's 
 edge above, steadily increases in altitude to 
 1,200 feet at the foot. 
 
 Red Canon is twenty-five and two-thirds 
 miles long, and the highest walls are about 
 2,500 feet. 
 
 Brown's Park is a valley, bounded on 
 either side by a mountain range, really an 
 expansion of the canon. The river, through 
 the park, is thirty-five and a half miles long, 
 but passes through two short canons, on its 
 way, where spurs, from the mountains on the 
 south, are thrust across its course. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE CANYON OF LODORE 
 
 JUNE 8. — We enter the canon, and, 
 until noon, find a succession of rap- 
 ids, over which our boats have to be 
 taken. 
 
 Here I must explain our method of pro- 
 ceeding at such places. The Emma Dean 
 goes in advance; the other boats follow, in 
 obedience to signals. When we approach 
 a rapid, or what, on other rivers, would often 
 be called a fall, I stand on deck to examine 
 it, while the oarsmen back water, and we 
 drift on as slowly as possible. If I can see 
 a clear chute between the rocks, away we 
 go ; but if the channel is beset entirely across, 
 we signal the other boats, pull to land, and 
 I walk along the shore for closer examina- 
 tion. If this reveals no clear channel, hard 
 
 60 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 61 
 
 work begins. We drop the boats to the 
 very head of the dangerous place, and let 
 them over by lines, or make a portage, fre- 
 quently carrying both boats and cargoes over 
 the rocks, or, perhaps, only the cargoes, if 
 it is safe to let the boats down. 
 
 The waves caused by such falls in a river 
 differ much from the waves of the sea. The 
 water of an ocean wave merely rises and 
 falls; the form only passes on, and form 
 chases form unceasingly. A body floating 
 on such waves merely rises and sinks — does 
 not progress unless impelled by wind or some 
 other power. But here, the water of the 
 wave passes on, while the form remains. 
 The waters plunge down ten or twenty feet, 
 to the foot of a fall; spring up again in a 
 great wave; then down and up, in a series 
 of billows, that gradually disappear in the 
 more quiet waters below; but these waves 
 are always there, and you can stand above 
 and count them. 
 
 A boat riding such, leaps and plunges 
 along with great velocity. Now, the diffi- 
 
62 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 culty in riding over these falls, when the 
 rocks are out of the way, is in the first wave 
 at the foot. This will sometimes gather for 
 a moment, heaping up higher and higher, 
 until it breaks back. If the boat strikes it 
 the instant after it breaks, she cuts through, 
 and the mad breaker dashes its spray over 
 the boat, and would wash us overboard did 
 we not cling tight. If the boat, in going 
 over the falls, chances to get caught in some 
 side ciu-rent, and is turned from its course, 
 so as to strike the wave "broadside on," and 
 the wave breaks at the same instant, the boat 
 is capsized. Still, we must cling to her, for, 
 the water tight compartments acting as 
 buoys, she cannot sink; and so we go, 
 dragged through the waves, until still waters 
 are reached. We then right the boat, and 
 climb aboard. We have several such experi- 
 ences to-day. 
 
 At night, we camp on the right bank, on 
 a little shelving rock, between the river and 
 the foot of the cliff; and with night comes 
 gloom into these great depths. 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 63 
 
 After supper, we sit by our camp fire, 
 made of drift wood caught by the rocks, and 
 tell stories of wild life; for the men have 
 seen such in the mountains, or on the plains, 
 and on the battle fields of the South. It is 
 late before we spread our blankets on the 
 beach. 
 
 Lying down, we look up through the 
 canon, and see that only a little of the blue 
 heaven appears overhead — a crescent of blue 
 sky, with two or three constellations peering 
 down upon us. 
 
 I do not sleep for some time, as the ex- 
 citement of the day has not worn off. Soon 
 I see a bright star, that appears to rest on 
 the very verge of the cliff overhead to the 
 east. Slowly it seems to float from its rest- 
 ing place on the rock over the canon. At 
 first, it appears like a jewel set on the brink 
 of the cliff; but, as it moves out from the 
 rock, I almost wonder that it does not fall. 
 In fact, it does seem to descend in a gentle 
 curve, as though the bright sky in which the 
 stars are set was spread across the canon. 
 
64 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 resting on either wall, and swayed down by 
 its own weight. The stars appear to be in 
 the canon. I soon discover that it is the 
 bright star Vega, so it occurs to me to desig- 
 nate this part of the wall as the "Cliff of the 
 Harp." 
 
 June 9. — One of the party suggests that 
 we call this the Canon of Lodore, and the 
 name is adopted. Very slowly we make our 
 way, often climbing on the rocks at the edge 
 of the water for a few hundred yards, to 
 examine the channel before running it. 
 
 During the afternoon, we come to a place 
 where it is necessary to make a portage. The 
 little boat is landed, and the others are sig- 
 naled to come up. 
 
 When these rapids or broken falls occur, 
 usually the channel is suddenly narrowed by 
 rocks which have been tumbled from the 
 cliffs or have been washed in by lateral 
 streams. Immediately above the narrow, 
 rocky channel, on one or both sides, there is 
 often a bay of quiet water, in which we can 
 land with ease. Sometimes the water de- 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 65 
 
 scends with a smooth, unruffled surface, 
 from the broad, quiet spread above, into the 
 narrow, angry channel below, by a semicir- 
 cular sag. Great care must be taken not 
 to pass over the brink into this deceptive 
 pit, but above it we can row with safety. I 
 walk along the bank to examine the ground, 
 leaving one of my men with a flag to guide 
 the other boats to the landing-place. I soon 
 see one of the boats make shore all right and 
 feel no more concern; but a minute after, 
 I hear a shout, and looking around, see one 
 of the boats shooting down the center of the 
 sag. It is the No Name, with Captain How- 
 land, his brother, and Goodman. I feel 
 that its going over is inevitable, and run to 
 save the third boat. A minute more, and 
 she turns the point and heads for the shore. 
 Then I turn down stream again, and scram- 
 ble along to look for the boat that has gone 
 over. The first fall is not great, only ten 
 or twelve feet, and we often run such; but 
 below, the river tumbles down again for forty 
 or fifty feet, in a channel filled with danger- 
 
66 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ous rocks that break the waves into whirl- 
 pools and beat them into foam. I pass 
 around a great crag just in time to see the 
 boat strike a rock, and, rebounding from the 
 shock, careen and fill the open compartment 
 with water. Two of the men lose their oars ; 
 she swings around, and is carried down at 
 a rapid rate, broadside on, for a few yards, 
 and strikes amidships on another rock with 
 great force, is broken quite in two, and the 
 men are thrown into the river; the larger 
 part of the boat floating buoyantly, they 
 soon seize it, and down the river they drift, 
 past the rocks for a few hundred yards to a 
 second rapid, filled with huge boulders, where 
 the boat strikes again, and is dashed to pieces, 
 and the men and fragments are soon carried 
 beyond my sight. Running along, I turn 
 a bend, and see a man's head above the water, 
 washed about in a whirlpool below a great 
 rock. 
 
 It is Frank Goodman, clinging to it witK 
 a grip upon which life depends. Coming 
 opposite, I see Howland trying to go to his 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 67 
 
 aid from an island on which he has Keen 
 washed. Soon, he comes near enough to 
 reach Frank with a pole, which he extends 
 toward him. The latter lets go the rock, 
 grasps the pole, and is pulled ashore. Sen- 
 eca Howland is washed farther down the 
 island, and is caught by some rocks, and, 
 though somewhat bruised, manages to get 
 ashore in safety. This seems a long time, 
 as I tell it, but it is quickly done. 
 
 And now the three men are on an island, 
 with a swift, dangerous river on either side, 
 and a fall below. The Emma Dean is soon 
 brought down, and Sumner, starting above 
 as far as possible, pushes out. Right skill- 
 fully he plies the oars, and a few strokes set 
 him on the island at the proper point. Then 
 they all pull the boat up stream, as far as 
 they are able, until they stand in water up 
 to their necks. One sits on a rock, and holds 
 the boat until the others are ready to pull, 
 then gives the boat a push, clings to it with 
 his hands, and climbs in as they pull for 
 mainland, which they reach in safety. We 
 
68 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 are as glad to shake hands with them as 
 though they had been on a voyage around 
 the world, and wrecked on a distant coast. 
 
 Down the river half a mile we find that 
 the after cabin of the wrecked boat, with a 
 part of the bottom, ragged and splintered, 
 has floated against a rock, and stranded. 
 There are valuable articles in the cabin; but, 
 on examination, we determine that life 
 should not be risked to save them. Of 
 course, the cargo of rations, instruments, and 
 clothing is gone. 
 
 We return to the boats, and make camp 
 for the night. No sleep comes to me in all 
 those dark hours. The rations, instruments, 
 and clothing have been divided among the 
 boats, anticipating such an accident as this; 
 and we started with duplicates of everything 
 that was deemed necessary to success. But, 
 in the distribution, there was one exception 
 to this precaution, and the barometers were 
 all placed in one boat, and they are lost. 
 There is a possibility that they are in the 
 cabin lodged against the rock, for that is 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 69 
 
 where they were kept. But, then, how to 
 reach them ! The river is rising. Will they 
 be there to-morrow? Can I go out to Salt 
 Lake City, and obtain barometers from New 
 York? 
 
 June 10. — I have determined to get the 
 barometers from the wreck, if they are there. 
 After breakfast, while the men make the 
 portage, I go down again for another ex- 
 amination. There the cabin lies, only car- 
 ried fifty or sixty feet farther on. 
 
 Carefully looking over the ground, I am 
 satisfied that it can be reached with safety, 
 and return to tell the men my conclusion. 
 Sumner and Dunn volunteer to take the lit- 
 tle boat and make the attempt. They start, 
 reach it, and out come the barometers; and 
 now the boys set up a shout, and I join them, 
 pleased that they should be as glad to save 
 the instruments as mj^self . When the boat 
 lands on our side, I find that the only things 
 saved from the wreck were the barometers, 
 a package of thermometers, and a three gal- 
 lon keg of whisky, which is what the men 
 
•yd iriRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 were shouting about. They Had taken it 
 aboard, unknown to me, and now I am glad 
 they did, for they think it will do them good, 
 as they are drenched every day by the melt- 
 ing snow, which runs down the summits of 
 the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 Now we come back to our work at the 
 portage. We find that it is necessary to 
 carry our rations over the rocks for nearly 
 a mile, and let our boats down with lines, ex- 
 cept at a few points, where they also must be 
 carried. 
 
 Between the river and the eastern wall 
 of the canon there is an immense talus of 
 broken rocks. These have tumbled down 
 from the cliffs above, and constitute a vast 
 pile of huge angular fragments. On these 
 we build a path for a quarter of a mile, to a 
 small sand beach covered with drift-wood, 
 through which we clear a way for several 
 hxmdred yards, then continue the trail on 
 over another pile of rocks, nearly half a mile 
 farther down, to a little bay. The greater 
 part of the day is spent in this work'. Then 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 71 
 
 we carry our cargoes down to the beach and 
 camp for the night. 
 
 While the men are building the camp fire, 
 we discover an iron bake oven, several tin 
 plates, a part of a boat, and many other 
 fragments, which denote that this is the place 
 where Ashley's party was wrecked. 
 
 June 11. — This day is spent in carrying 
 our rations down to the bay — no small task 
 to climb over the rocks with sacks of flour 
 or bacon. We carry them by stages of 
 about 500 yards each, and when night comes, 
 and the last sack is on the beach, we are tired, 
 bruised, and glad to sleep. 
 
 June 12. — To-day we take the boats down 
 to the bay. While at this work, we discover 
 three sacks of flour from the wrecked boat, 
 that have lodged in the rocks. We carry 
 them above high- water mark, and leave them, 
 as our cargoes are already too heavy for the 
 three remaining boats. We also find two 
 or three oars, which we place with them. 
 
 As Ashley and his party were wrecked 
 here, and as we have lost one of our boats at 
 
7a FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the same place, we adopt the name Disaster 
 Falls for the scene of so much peril and loss. 
 Though some of his companions were 
 drowned, Ashley and one other survived the 
 wreck, climbed the canon wall, and found 
 their way across the Wasatch Mountains to 
 Salt Lake City, living chiefly on berries, as 
 they wandered through an unknown and dif- 
 ficult country. When they arrived at Salt 
 Lake, they were almost destitute of cloth- 
 ing, and nearly starved. The Mormon peo- 
 ple gave them food and clothing, and em- 
 ployed them to work on the foundation of the 
 Temple, until they had earned sufficient to 
 enable them to leave the country. Of their 
 subsequent history, I have no knowledge. 
 It is possible they returned to the scene of 
 the disaster, as a little creek entering the 
 river below is known as Ashley's Creek, and 
 it is reported that he built a cabin and 
 trapped on this river for one or two win- 
 ters ; but this may have been before the dis- 
 aster. 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 7S 
 
 June 13. — Still rocks, rapids, and por- 
 tages. 
 
 We camp to-night at the foot of the left 
 wall on a little patch of flood-plain covered 
 with a dense growth of box-elders, stopping 
 early in order to spread the clothing and 
 rations to dry. Everything is wet and 
 spoiling. 
 
 June 14. — Howland and I climb the wall, 
 on the west side of the canon, to an altitude 
 of 2,000 feet. Standing above, and look- 
 ing to the west, we discover a large park, 
 five or six miles wide and twenty or thirty 
 long. The cliff we have climbed forms a 
 wall between the canon and the park, for 
 it is 800 feet, down the western side, to the 
 valley. A creek comes winding down, 1,200 
 feet above the river, and, entering the inter- 
 vening wall by a caiion, it plunges down, 
 more than a thousand feet, by a broken cas- 
 cade, into the river below. 
 
 June 15. — To-day, while we make an- 
 other portage, a peak, standing on the east 
 
74 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 wall, is climbed by two of the men, and 
 fomid to be 2,700 feet above the river. On 
 the east side of the canon, a vast amphithe- 
 ater has been cut, with massive buttresses, 
 and deep, dark alcoves, in which grow beau- 
 tiful mosses and delicate ferns, while springs 
 burst out from the further recesses, and 
 wind, in silver threads, over floors of sand 
 rock. Here we have three falls in close 
 succession. At the first, the water is com- 
 pressed into a very narrow channel, against 
 the right-hand cliff, and falls fifteen feet 
 in ten yards ; at the second, we have a broad 
 sheet of water, tumbling down twenty feet 
 over a group of rocks that thrust their dark 
 heads through the foaming waters. The 
 third is a broken fall, or short, abrupt rapid, 
 where the water makes a descent of more 
 than twenty feet among huge, fallen frag- 
 ments of the cliff, .We name the group 
 Triplet Falls. 
 
 W^ make a portage around the first; past 
 the second and third we let down with lines. 
 , During the afternoon, Dunn and How- 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE Sffi 
 
 land, having returned from their climB, we 
 run down, three-quarters of a mile, on quiet 
 water, and land at the head of another fall. 
 On examination, we find that there is an 
 abrupt plunge of a few feet, and then the 
 river tumbles, for half a mile, with a descent 
 of a hundred feet, in a channel beset with 
 great nimibers of huge boulders. This 
 stretch of the river is named Hell's Half- 
 Mile. 
 
 The remaining portion of the day is oc- 
 cupied in making a trail among the rocks to 
 the foot of the rapid. 
 
 June 16. — Our first work this morning 
 is to carry our cargoes to the foot of the 
 falls. Then we commence letting down the 
 boats. We take two of them down in 
 safety, but not without great difiiculty; for, 
 where such a vast body of water, rolling 
 down an inclined plane, is broken into ed- 
 dies and cross currents by rocks projecting 
 from the cliffs and piles of boulders in the 
 channel, it requires excessive labor and much 
 care to prevent their being dashed against 
 
T6 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the rocks or breaking away. Sometimes we 
 are compelled to hold the boat against a 
 rock, above a chute, until a second line, at- 
 tached to the stem, is carried to some point 
 below, and, when all is ready, the first line 
 is detached, and the boat given to the cur- 
 rent, when she shoots down, and the men be- 
 low swing her into some eddy. 
 
 At such a place, we are letting down the 
 last boat, and, as she is set free, a wave 
 turns her broadside down the stream, with 
 the stem, to which the line is attached, from 
 shore, and a little up. They haul on the 
 line to bring the boat in, but the power of 
 the current, striking obliquely against her, 
 shoots her out into the middle of the river. 
 The men have their hands burned with the 
 friction of the passing line; the boat breaks 
 away, and speeds, with great velocity, down 
 the stream. 
 
 The Maid of the Canon is lost, so it 
 seems; but she drifts some distance, and 
 swings into an eddy, in which she spins 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE T? 
 
 about, until we arrive with the small boat, 
 and rescue her. 
 
 Soon we are on our way again, and stop 
 at the mouth of a little brook, on the right, 
 for a late dinner. This brook comes down 
 from the distant mountains, in a deep side 
 canon. We set out to explore it, but are 
 soon cut off from farther progress up the 
 gorge by a high rock, over which the brook 
 glides in a smooth sheet. The rock is not 
 quite vertical, and the water does not plunge 
 over in a fall. 
 
 Then we climb up to the left for an hour, 
 and are a thousand feet above the river, and 
 six hundred above the brook. Just before 
 us, the canon divides, a little stream coming 
 down on the right, and another on the left, 
 and we can look away up either of these can- 
 ons, through an ascending vista, to cliffs and 
 crags and towers, a mile back, and two thou- 
 sand feet overhead. To the right, a dozen 
 gleaming cascades are seen. Pines and firs 
 stand on the rocks and aspens overhang the 
 
78 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 brooks. The rocks below are red and 
 brown, set in deep shadows, but above, they 
 are buff and vermilion, and stand in the 
 sunshine. The light above, made more bril- 
 liant by the bright-tinted rocks, and the 
 shadows below more gloomy by the somber 
 hues of the brown walls, increase the ap- 
 parent depths of the canons, and it seems a 
 long way up to the world of sunshine and 
 open sky, and a long way down to the bot- 
 tom of the canon glooms. Never before 
 have I received such an impression of the 
 vast heights of these canon walls; not even 
 at the Cliff of the Harp, where the very 
 heavens seemed to rest on their summits. 
 
 We sit on some overhanging rocks, and 
 enjoy the scene for a time, listening to the 
 music of falling waters away up the canons. 
 We name this Rippling Brook. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we make a short 
 run to the mouth of another little creek, 
 coming down from the left into an alcove 
 filled with luxuriant vegetation. Here 
 camp is made with a group of cedars on one 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 79 
 
 side and a dense mass of box-elders and dead 
 willows on the other. 
 
 I go up to explore the alcove. While 
 away a whirlwind comes, scattering the fire 
 among the dead willows and cedar-spray, 
 and soon there is a conflagration. The 
 men rush for the boats, leaving all they can- 
 not readily seize at the moment, and even 
 then they have their clothing burned and 
 hair singed, and Bradley has his ears 
 scorched. The cook fills his arms with the 
 mess-kit, and, jumping into a boat, stum- 
 bles and falls, and away go our cooking 
 utensils into the river. Our plates are gone ; 
 our spoons are gone; our knives and forks 
 are gone. "Water catch 'em; h-e-a-p catch 
 em. 
 
 When on the boats, the men are compelled 
 to cut loose, as the flames, running out on 
 the overhanging willows, are scorching 
 them. Loose on the stream, they must go 
 down, for the water is too swift to make 
 headway against it. Just below is a rapid, 
 filled with rocks. On they shoot, no chan- 
 
80 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 nel explored, no signal to guide them. Just 
 at this juncture I chance to see them, but 
 have not yet discovered the fire, and the 
 strange movements of the men fill me with 
 astonishment. Down the rocks I clamber, 
 and run to the bank. When I arrive, they 
 have landed. Then we all go back to the 
 late camp to see if anything left behind can 
 be saved. Some of the clothing and bed- 
 ding taken out of the boats is found, also 
 a few tin cups, basins, and a camp kettle, 
 and this is all the mess kit we now have. 
 Yet we do just as well as ever. 
 
 June 17. — We run down to the mouth 
 of Yampa River. This has been a chapter 
 of disasters and toils, notwithstanding 
 which the Canon of Lodore was not devoid 
 of scenic interest, even beyond the power 
 of pen to tell. The roar of its waters was 
 heard unceasingly from the hour we entered 
 it until we landed here. No quiet in all 
 that time. But its walls and cliffs, its peaks 
 and crags, its amphitheaters and alcoves, tell 
 
THE CANYON OF LODORE 81 
 
 a story of beauty and grandeur that I hear 
 yet — and shall hear. 
 
 The Canon of Lodore is twenty and three- 
 quarter miles in length. It starts abruptly 
 at what we have called the Gate of Lodore, 
 with walls nearly two thousand feet high, and 
 they are never lower than this until we reach 
 Alcove Brook, about three miles above the 
 foot. They are very irregular, standing in 
 vertical or overhanging cliffs in places, ter- 
 raced in others, or receding in steep slopes, 
 and are broken by many side gulches 
 and canons. The highest point on the wall 
 is at Dunn's Cliff, near Triplet Falls, 
 where the rocks reach an altitude of 2,700 
 feet, but the peaks a little way back rise 
 nearly a thousand feet higher. Yellow 
 pines, nut pines, firs, and cedars stand in 
 extensive forests on the Uinta Mountains, 
 and, clinging to the rocks and growing in 
 the crevices, come down the walls to the 
 water's edge from Flaming Gorge to Echo 
 
82 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Park. The red sandstones are liehened 
 over; delicate mosses grow in the moist 
 places, and ferns festoon the walls. 
 
CHAPTER y 
 
 FROM ECHO PARK TO THE MOUTH OE THE 
 UINTA RIVER 
 
 THE Yampa enters the Green from 
 the east. At a point opposite its 
 mouth, the Green runs to the south, 
 at the foot of a rock, about seven hun- 
 dred feet high and a mile long, and then 
 turns sharply around it to the right, and 
 runs back in a northerly course, parallel to 
 its former direction, for nearly another mile, 
 thus having the opposite sides of a long, 
 narrow rock for its bank. The tongue of 
 rock so formed is a peninsular precipice, 
 with a mural escarpment along its whole 
 course on the east, but broken down at 
 places on the west. 
 
 On the east side of the river, opposite the 
 rock, and below the Yampa, there is a little 
 
 83 
 
84 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 park, just large enough for a farm, already; 
 fenced with high walls of gray homogeneous 
 standstone. There are three river en- 
 trances to this park: one down the Yampa; 
 one below, by coming up the Green; and 
 another down the Green. There is also a 
 land entrance down a lateral canon. Else- 
 where the park is inaccessible. Through this 
 land-entrance by the side canon there is a 
 trail made by Indian hunters, who come 
 down here in certain seasons to kill moun- 
 tain sheep. 
 
 Great hollow domes are seen in the east- 
 ern side of the rock, against which the Green 
 sweeps; willows border the river; clumps of 
 box-elder are seen; and a few cottonwoods 
 stand at the lower end. Standing opposite 
 the rock, our words are repeated with start- 
 ling clearness, but in a soft, mellow tone, 
 that transforms them into magical music. 
 Scarcely can you beheve it is the echo of 
 your own voice. In some places two or 
 three echoes come back; in other places they; 
 repeat themselves, passing back and forth 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 85 
 
 across the river between this rock and the 
 eastern wall. 
 
 To hear these repeated echoes well you 
 must shout. Some of the party aver that 
 ten or twelve repetitions can be heard. To 
 me, they seem to rapidly diminish and merge 
 by multiplicity, like telegraph poles on an 
 outstretched plain. I have observed the 
 same phenomenon once before in the cliffs 
 near Long's Peak, and am pleased to meet 
 with it again. 
 
 During the afternoon, Bradley and I 
 climb some cliffs to the north. Mountain 
 sheep are seen above us, and they stand out 
 on the rocks, and eye us intently, not seem- 
 ing to move. Their color is much like that 
 of the gray sandstone beneath them, and, 
 inmiovable as they are, they appear like 
 carved forms. Now a fine ram beats the 
 rock with his front foot, and, wheeling 
 around, they all bound away together, leap- 
 ing over rocks and chasms, and climbing 
 walls where no man can follow, and this 
 with an ease and gracefulness most wonder- 
 
86 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ful. At night we return to our camp, un- 
 der the box-elders, by the river side. Here 
 we are to spend two or three days, making 
 a series of astronomic observations for lati- 
 tude and longitude. 
 
 June 18. — ^We have named the long pe- 
 ninsular rock on the other side Echo Rock. 
 Desiring to climb it, Bradley and I take 
 the little boat and pull up stream as far as 
 possible, for it cannot be climbed directly 
 opposite. We land on a talus of rocks at 
 the upper end, to reach a place where it 
 seems practicable to make the ascent; but 
 we must go still farther up the river. So 
 we scramble along, until we reach a place 
 where the river sweeps against the wall. 
 Here we find a shelf, along which we can 
 pass, and now are ready for the climb. 
 
 We start up a gulch; then pass to the 
 left, on a bench, along the wall; then up 
 again, over broken rocks; then we reach 
 more benches, along which we walk, until 
 we find more broken rocks and crevices, by 
 which we climb still up, until we have as- 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 87 
 
 cended six or eight hundred feet; then we 
 are met by a sheer precipice. 
 
 Looking about, we find a place where it 
 seems possible to climb. I go ahead ; Brad- 
 ley hands the barometer to me, and follows. 
 So we proceed, stage by stage, until we are 
 nearly to the summit. Here, by making a 
 spring, I gain a foothold in a little crevice, 
 and grasp an angle of the rock overhead. 
 I find I can get up no farther, and cannot 
 step back, for I dare not let go with my 
 hand, and cannot reach foot-hold below 
 without.* I call to Bradley for help. He 
 finds a way by which he can get to the top 
 of the rock over my head, but cannot reach 
 me. Then he looks around for some stick 
 or limb of a tree, but finds none. Then 
 he suggests that he had better help me with 
 the barometer case ; but I fear I cannot hold 
 on to it. The moment is critical. Stand- 
 ing on my toes, my muscles begin to trem- 
 ble. It is sixty or eighty feet to the foot 
 of the precipice. If I lose my hold I shall 
 
 * Major Powell had only one arm. {Ed,\ 
 
88 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 fall to the bottom, and then perhaps roll 
 over the bench, and tumble still farther 
 down the cliff. At this instant it occurs to 
 Bradley to take off his drawers, which he 
 does, and swings them down to me. I hug 
 close to the rock, let go with my hand, seize 
 the danghng legs, and, with his assistance, 
 I am enabled to gain the top. 
 
 Then we walk out on a peninsular rock, 
 make the necessary observations for deter- 
 mining its altitude above camp, and return, 
 finding an easy way down. 
 
 June 19. — To-day, Rowland, Bradley, 
 and I take the Emma Dean, and start up 
 the Yampa River. The stream is much 
 swollen, the current swift, and we are able 
 to make but slow progress against it. The 
 canon in this part of the course of the 
 Yampa is cut through light gray sandstone. 
 The river is very winding, and the swifter 
 water is usually found on the outside of the 
 curve, sweeping against vertical cliffs, often 
 a thousand feet high. In the center of 
 these curves, in many places, the rock above 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 89 
 
 overhangs the river. On the opposite side, 
 the walls are broken, craggy, and sloping, 
 and occasionally side canons enter. When 
 we have rowed until we are quite tired we 
 stop, and take advantage of one of these 
 broken places to climb out of the canon. 
 When above, we can look up the Yampa for 
 a distance of several miles. 
 
 From the summit of the immediate walls 
 of the canon the rocks rise gently back for a 
 distance of a mile or two, having the appear- 
 ance of a valley, with an irregular, rounded 
 sandstone floor, and in the center of the val- 
 ley a deep gorge, which is the canon. The 
 rim of this valley on the north is from two 
 thousand five hundred to three thousand feet 
 above the river; on the south, it is not so 
 high. A number of peaks stand on this 
 northern rim, the highest of which has re- 
 ceived the name Mount Dawes. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we descend to our 
 boat, and return to camp in Echo Park, glid- 
 ing down in twenty minutes on the rapid 
 river a distance of four or five miles, which 
 
90 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 was only made up stream by several hours' 
 hard rowing in the morning. 
 
 June 20. — This morning two of the men 
 take me up the Yampa for a short distance, 
 and I go out to climb. Having reached the 
 top of the canon, I walk over long stretches 
 of naked sandstone, crossing gulches now 
 and then, and by noon reach the summit of 
 Mount Dawes. From this point' I can look 
 away to the north, and see in the dim distance 
 the Sweetwater and Wind River Mountains, 
 more than a himdred miles away. To the 
 northwest, the Wasatch Mountains are in 
 view and peaks of the Uinta. To the east, 
 I can see the western slopes of the Rocky 
 Mountains, more than a hundred and fifty 
 miles distant. 
 
 The air is singularly clear to-day; moun- 
 tains and buttes stand in sharp outline, val- 
 leys stretch out in the perspective, and I can 
 look down into the deep canon gorges and see 
 gleaming waters. 
 
 Descending, I cross a ridge near the brink 
 of the Canon of Lodore, the highest point of 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 91 
 
 which is nearly as high as the last mentioned 
 mountain. 
 
 Late in the afternoon I stand on this ele- 
 vated point, and discover a monmnent that 
 has evidently been built by human hands. A 
 few plants are growing in the joints between 
 the rocks, and all are lichened over to a 
 greater or less extent, showing evidences that 
 the pile was built a long time ago. This line 
 of peaks, the eastern extension of the Uinta 
 Mountains, has received the name of Sierra 
 Escalanti, in honor of a Spanish priest, who 
 traveled in this region of country nearly a 
 century ago; and, perchance, the reverend 
 father built this monument. 
 
 Now I return to the river and discharge 
 my gun, as a signal for the boat to come and 
 take me down to camp. Wliile we have been 
 in the park, the men have succeeded in catch- 
 ing quite a number of fish, and we have an 
 abundant supply. This is quite an addition 
 to our cuisine. 
 
 June 21. — We float around the long rock, 
 and enter another canon. The walls are 
 
92 iFIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 high and vertical; the canon is narrow; and 
 the river fills the whole space below, so that 
 there is no landing-place at the foot of the 
 cliff. The Green is greatly increased by the 
 Yampa, and we now have a much larger 
 river. All this volume of water, confined, 
 as it is, in a narrow channel, and rushing with 
 great velocity, is set eddying and spinning in 
 whirlpools by projecting rocks and short 
 curves, and the waters waltz their way 
 through the canon, making their own rip- 
 pling, rushing, roaring music. The canon is 
 much narrower than any we have seen. 
 With difliculty we manage our boats. They 
 spin about from side to side, and we know 
 not where we are going, and find it impossi- 
 ble to keep them headed down the stream. 
 At first, this causes us great alarm, but we 
 soon find there is but little danger, and that 
 there is a general movement of progression 
 down the river, to which this whirling is but 
 an adjunct; and it is the merry mood of the 
 river to dance through tliis deep, dark gorge ; 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 93 
 
 and right gaily do we join in the sport. 
 Soon our revel is interrupted by a cata- 
 ract; its roaring command is heeded by all 
 our power at the oars, and we pull against 
 the whirling current. The Emma Dean is 
 brought up against a cliff, about fifty feet 
 above the brink of the fall. By vigorously 
 plying the oars on the side opposite the wall, 
 as if to pull up stream, we can hold her 
 against the rock. The boats behind are sig- 
 naled to land where they can. The Maid of 
 the Canon is pulled to the left wall, and, by 
 constant rowing, they can hold her also. The 
 Sister is run into an alcove on the right, 
 where an eddy is in a dance, and in this she 
 joins. Now my httle boat is held against 
 the wall only by the utmost exertion, and it is 
 impossible to make headway against the cur- 
 rent. On examination, I find a horizontal 
 crevice in the rock, about ten feet above the 
 water, and a boat's length below us, so we 
 let her down to that point. One of the men 
 clambers into the crevice, in which he can 
 
94 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 just crawl; we toss him the line, which Ke 
 makes fast in the rocks, and now our boat is 
 tied up. Then I follow into the crevice, and 
 we crawl along a distance of fifty feet, or 
 more, up stream, and find a broken place, 
 where we can climb about fifty feet higher. 
 Here we stand on a shelf, that passes along 
 do^n stream to a point above the falls, 
 where it is broken down, and a pile of rocks, 
 over which we can descend to the river, is 
 lying against the foot of the cliff. 
 
 It has been mentioned that one of the 
 boats is on the other side. I signal for the 
 men to pull her up alongside of the wall, but 
 it cannot be done ; then to cross. This they 
 do, gaining the wall on our side just above 
 where the Emma Dean is tied. 
 
 The third boat is out of sight, whirling in 
 the eddy of a recess. Looking about, I find 
 another horizontal crevice, along which I 
 crawl to a point just over the water, where 
 this boat is lying, and, calling loud and long, 
 I finally succeed in making the crew under- 
 stand that I want them to bring the boat 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 95 
 
 down, hugging the wall. This they accom- 
 plish, by taking advantage of every crevice 
 and knob on the face of the cliff, so that we 
 have the three boats together at a point a 
 few yards above the falls. Now, by pass- 
 ing a line up on the shelf, the boats can be let 
 down to the broken rocks below. This we 
 do, and, making a short portage, our trou- 
 bles here are over. 
 
 Below the falls, the canon is wider, and 
 there is more or less space between the river 
 and the walls; but the stream, though wide, 
 is rapid, and rolls at a fearful rate among 
 the rocks. We proceed with great caution, 
 and run the large boats altogether by sig- 
 nal. 
 
 At night we camp at the mouth of a small 
 creek, which affords us a good supper of 
 trout. In camp, to-night, we discuss the 
 propriety of several different names for this 
 canon. At the falls, encountered at noon, 
 its characteristics change suddenly. Above, 
 it is very narrow, and the walls are almost 
 yertical; below, the canon is much vrfder, and 
 
96 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 more flaring; and, high up on the sides, 
 crags, pinnacles, and towers are seen. A 
 number of wild, narrow side canons enter, 
 and the walls are much broken. After many- 
 suggestions, our choice rests between two 
 names. Whirlpool Canon and Craggy 
 Canon, neither of which is strictly appro- 
 priate for both parts of it; but we leave the 
 discussion at this point, with the understand- 
 ing that it is best, before finally deciding on 
 a name, to wait until we see what the canon 
 is below. 
 
 June 22. — Still making short portages 
 and letting down with lines. While we are 
 waiting for dinner to-day, I climb a point 
 that gives me a good view of the river for 
 two or three miles below, and I think we can 
 make a long rim. After dinner, we start; 
 the large boats are to follow in fifteen min- 
 utes, and look out for the signal to land. 
 Into the middle of the stream we row, and 
 down the rapid river we glide, only making 
 strokes enough with the oars to guide the 
 boat. What a headlong ride it is! shooting 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 97 
 
 past rocks and islands ! I am soon filled witH 
 exhilaration only experienced before in rid- 
 ing a fleet horse over the outstretched 
 prairie. One, two, three, four miles we go, 
 rearing and plunging with the waves, until 
 we wheel to the right into a beautiful park, 
 and land on an island, where we go into 
 camp. 
 
 An hour or two before sunset, I cross to 
 the mainland, and climb a point of rocks 
 where I can overlook the park and its sur- 
 roundings. On the east it is bounded by 
 a high mountain ridge. A semicircle of 
 naked hills bounds it on the north, west, and 
 south. The broad, deep river meanders 
 through the park, interrupted by many 
 wooded islands; so I name it Island Park, 
 and decide to call the canon above Whirlpool 
 Canon. 
 
 June 23. — We remain in camp to-day to 
 repair our boats, which have had hard knocks, 
 and are leaking. Two of the men go out 
 with the barometer to climb the cliff at the 
 foot of Whirlpool Canon and measure the 
 
98 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 walls ; another goes on the mountain to hunt ; 
 and Bradley and I spend the day among the 
 rocks, studying an interesting geological 
 fold and collecting fossils. Late in the 
 afternoon, the hunter returns, and brings 
 with him a fine, fat deer, so we give his name 
 to the mountain — Mount Hawkins. Just 
 before night we move camp to the lower end 
 of the park, floating down the river about 
 four miles. 
 
 June 24, — Bradley and I start early to 
 climb the mountain ridge to the east; find its 
 summit to be nearly three thousand feet 
 above camp, and it has required some labor 
 to scale it ; but on its top, what a view ! There 
 is a long spur running out from the Uinta 
 JNIountains toward the south, and the river 
 runs lengthwise through it. Coming down 
 Lodore and Whirlpool Canons, we cut 
 through the southern slope of the Uinta 
 Mountains ; and the lower end of this latter 
 canon runs into the spur, but, instead of split- 
 ting it the whole length, the river wheels to 
 the right at the foot of Whirlpool Canon, in 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 99 
 
 a great curve to the northwest, through 
 Island Park. At the lower end of the park, 
 the river turns again to the southeast, and 
 cuts into the mountain to its center, and then 
 makes a detour to the southwest, splitting 
 the mountain ridge for a distance of six miles 
 nearly to its foot, and then turns out of it to 
 the left. All this we can see where we stand 
 on the summit of Mount Hawkins, and so 
 we name the gorge below Split Mountain 
 Canon. 
 
 We are standing three thousand feet 
 above its waters, which are troubled with bil- 
 lows, and white with foam. Its walls are set 
 with crags and peaks, and buttressed towers, 
 and overhanging domes. Turning to the 
 right, the park is below us, with its island 
 groves reflected by the deep, quiet waters. 
 Rich meadows stretch out on either hand, 
 to the verge of a sloping plain, that comes 
 down from the distant mountains. These 
 plains are of almost naked rock, in strange 
 contrast to the meadows ; blue and lilac col- 
 ored rocks, buff and pink, vermilion and 
 
100 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 brown, and all these colors clear and bright. 
 A dozen little creeks, dry the greater part of 
 the year, run down through the half circle of 
 exposed formations, radiating from the 
 island-center to the rim of the basin. Each 
 creek has its system of side streams, and each 
 side stream has its system of laterals, and, 
 again, these are divided, so that this out- 
 stretched slope of rock is elaborately em- 
 bossed. Beds of different colored forma- 
 tions run in parallel bands on either side. 
 The perspective, modified by the imdula- 
 tions, gives the bands a waved appearance, 
 and the high colors gleam in the midday sun 
 with the luster of satin. We are tempted 
 to call this Rainbow Park. Away beyond 
 these beds are the Uinta and Wasatch 
 Mountains, with their pine forests and snow 
 fields and naked peaks. Now we turn to 
 the right, and look up Whirlpool Canon, 
 a deep gorge, with a river in the bottom — 
 a gloomy chasm, where mad waves roar; 
 but, at this distance and altitude, the river 
 is but a rippling brook, and the chasm a 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 101 
 
 narrow cleft. The top of the mountain 
 on which we stand is a broad, grassy table, 
 and a herd of deer is feeding in the dis- 
 tance. Walking over to the southeast, we 
 look down into the valley of White River, 
 and beyond that see the far distant Rocky 
 Mountains, in mellow, perspective haze, 
 through which snow fields shine. 
 
 June 25. — This morning, we enter Split 
 Mountain Canon, sailing in through a 
 broad, flaring, brilliant gateway. We run 
 two or three rapids after they have been 
 carefully examined. Then we have a series 
 of six or eight, over which we are compelled 
 to pass by letting the boats down with 
 lines. This occupies the entire day, and we 
 camp at night at the mouth of a great 
 cave. 
 
 The cave is at the foot of one of these 
 rapids, and the waves dash in nearly to its 
 very end. We can pass along a little shelf 
 at the side until we reach the back part. 
 Swallows have built their nests in the ceil- 
 ing, and they wheel in, chattering and scold- 
 
lOa FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ing at our intrusion ; but their clamor is al- 
 most drowned by the noise of the waters. 
 Looking out of the cave, we can see, far up 
 the river, a line of crags standing sentinel 
 on either side, and Mount Hawkins in the 
 distance. 
 
 June 26. — The forenoon is spent in get- 
 ting our large boats over the rapids. This 
 afternoon, we find three falls in close suc- 
 cession. We carry our rations over the 
 rocks, and let our boats shoot over the falls, 
 checking and bringing them to land with 
 lines in the eddies below. At three o'clock 
 we are all aboard again. Down the river 
 we are carried by the swift waters at great 
 speed, sheering around a rock now and then 
 with a timely stroke or two of the oars. At 
 one point, the river turns from left to right, 
 in a direction at right angles to the canon, 
 in a long chute, and strikes the right, where 
 its waters are heaped up in great billows, 
 that tumble back in breakers. We glide 
 into the chute before we see the danger, and 
 it is too late to stop. Two or three hard 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 103 
 
 strokes are given on the right, and we pause 
 for an instant, expecting to be dashed 
 against the rock. The bow of the boat 
 leaps high on a gi'eat wave ; the rebounding 
 waters hurl us back, and the peril is past. 
 The next moment, the other boats are hur- 
 riedly signaled to land on the left. Ac- 
 complishing this, the men walk along the 
 shore, holding the boats near the bank, and 
 let them drift around. Starting again, we 
 soon debouch into a beautiful valley, and 
 glide down its length for ten miles, and 
 camp under a grand old cottonwood. This 
 is evidently a frequent resort for Indians. 
 Tent poles are lying about, and the dead 
 embers of late camp fires are seen. On the 
 plains, to the left, antelope are feeding. 
 Now and then a wolf is seen, and after dark 
 they make the air resound with their howl- 
 ing. 
 
 June 27. — Now our way is along a gently 
 flowing river, beset with many islands; 
 groves are seen on either side, and natural 
 meadows, where herds of antelope are feed- 
 
104 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ing. Here and there we have views of the 
 distant mountains on the right. 
 
 During the afternoon, we make a long 
 detour to the west, and return again, to a 
 point not more than half a mile from where 
 we started at noon, and here we camp, for 
 the night, under a high bluff. 
 
 June 28. — To-day, the scenery on either 
 side of the river is much the same as that of 
 yesterday, except that two or three lakes 
 are discovered, lying in the valley to the 
 west. After dinner, we run but a few min- 
 utes, when we discover the mouth of the 
 Uinta, a river coming in from the west. Up 
 the valley of this stream, about forty miles, 
 the reservation of the Uinta Indians is sit- 
 uated. We propose to go there, and see if 
 we can replenish our mess kit, and, perhaps, 
 send letters to friends. We also desire to 
 estabhsh an astronomic station here; and 
 hence this will be our stopping place for 
 several days. 
 
 Some years ago. Captain Berthoud sur- 
 yeyed a stage route from Salt Lake City to 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 106 
 
 Denver, and this is the place where he 
 crossed the Green River. His party was 
 encamped here for some time, constructing 
 a ferry boat and opening a road. 
 
 A httle above the mouth of the Uinta, on 
 the west side of the Green, there is a lake of 
 several thousand acres. We carry our 
 boat across the divide between this and the 
 river, have a row on its quiet waters, and 
 succeed in shooting several ducks. 
 
 June 29. — A mile and three quarters from 
 here is the junction of the White River with 
 the Green. The White has its source far 
 to the east, in the Rocky Mountains. This 
 morning, I cross the Green, and go over into 
 the valley of the White, and extend my 
 walk several miles along its winding way, 
 until, at last, I come in sight of some 
 strangely carved rocks, named by General 
 Hughes, in his journal, "Goblin City." 
 Our last winter's camp was situated a hun- 
 dred miles above the point reached to-day. 
 The course of the river, for much of the dis- 
 tance, is through canons; but, at some 
 
106 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 places, valleys are found. Excepting these 
 little valleys, the region is one of great des- 
 olation: arid, almost treeless, bluffs, hills, 
 ledges of rock, and drifting sands. Along 
 the course of the Green, however, from the 
 foot of Split Mountain Canon to a point 
 some distance below the mouth of the Uinta, 
 there are many groves of cottonwood, nat- 
 ural meadows, and rich lands. This arable 
 belt extends some distance up the White 
 River, on the east, and the Uinta, on the 
 west, and the time must soon come when 
 settlers will penetrate this country, and 
 make homes. 
 
 June 30. — ^We have a row up the Uinta 
 to-day, but are not able to make much head- 
 way against the swift current, and hence 
 conclude we must walk all the way to the 
 agency. 
 
 July 1. — Two days have been employed 
 in obtaining the local time, taking observa- 
 tions for latitude and longitude, and mak- 
 ing excursions into the adjacent country. 
 This morning, with two of the men, I start 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 107 
 
 for the Agency. It is a toilsome walk, 
 twenty miles of the distance being across 
 a sand desert. Occasionally, we have to 
 wade the river, crossing it back and forth. 
 Toward evening, we cross several beautiful 
 streams, which are tributaries of the Uinta, 
 and we pass through pine groves and mead- 
 ows, arriving just at dusk at the Reserva- 
 tion. Captain Dodds, the agent, is away, 
 having gone to Salt Lake City, but his as- 
 sistants received us very kindly. It is 
 rather pleasant to see a house once more, 
 and some evidences of civilization, even if it 
 is on an Indian reservation, several days' 
 ride from the nearest home of the white 
 man. 
 
 July 2, — ^I go, this morning, to visit 
 Tsau'-wi-at. This old chief is but the 
 wreck of a man, and no longer has influence. 
 Looking at him, you can scarcely realize 
 that he is a man. His skin is shrunken, 
 wrinkled, and dry, and seems to cover no 
 more than a form of bones. He is said to 
 be more than a hundred years old. I talk 
 
108 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 a little with him, but his conversation is in- 
 coherent, though he seems to take pride in 
 showing me some medals, that must have 
 been given him many years ago. He has 
 a pipe which, he says, he has used a long 
 time. I oflFer to exchange with him, and he 
 seems to be glad to accept; so I add another 
 to my collection of pipes. His wife, "The 
 Bishop," as she is called, is a very garrulous 
 old woman; she exerts a great influence, 
 and is much revered. She is the only In- 
 dian woman I have known to occupy a place 
 in the council ring. She seems very much 
 younger than her husband, and, though 
 wrinkled and ugly, is still vigorous. She 
 has much to say to me concerning the con- 
 dition of the people, and seems very anxious 
 that they should learn to cultivate the soil, 
 own farms, and live like white men. After 
 talking a couple of hours with these old peo- 
 ple, I go to see the farms. They are situ- 
 ated in a very beautiful district, where many 
 fine streams of water meander across al- 
 luvial plains and meadows. These creeks 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 109 
 
 have quite a fall, and it is very easy to take 
 their waters out above, and, with them, 
 overflow the lands. 
 
 It will be remembered that irrigation is 
 necessary, in this dry climate, to successful 
 farming. Quite a number of Indians have 
 each a patch of ground, of two or three 
 acres, on which they are raising wheat, po- 
 tatoes, turnips, pumpkins, melons, and 
 other vegetables. Most of the crops are 
 looking well, and it is rather surprising with 
 what pride they show us that they are able 
 to cultivate crops like white men. They are 
 still occupying lodges, and refuse to build 
 houses, assigning as a reason that when any 
 one dies in a lodge it is always abandoned, 
 and very often burned with all the effects 
 of the deceased, and when houses have been 
 built for them they have been treated in the 
 same way. With their unclean habits, a 
 fixed residence would doubtless be no pleas- 
 ant place. This beautiful valley has been 
 the home of a people of a higher grade of 
 civilization than the present Utes. Evi- 
 
110 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 dences of this are quite abundant; on our 
 way here yesterday we discovered, in many 
 places along the trail, fragments of pottery; 
 and wandering about the little farms to-day, 
 I find the foundations of ancient houses, and 
 mealing stones that were not used by no- 
 madic people, as they are too heavy to be 
 transported by such tribes, and are deeply 
 worn. The Indians, seeing that I am inter- 
 ested in these matters, take pains to show 
 me several other places where these evi- 
 dences remain, and tell me that they know 
 nothing about the people who formerly 
 dwelt here. They further tell me that up 
 in the canon the rocks are covered with pic- 
 tures. 
 
 July 5. — The last two days have been 
 spent in studying the language of the In- 
 dians, and making collections of articles il- 
 lustrating the state of arts among them. 
 
 Frank Goodman informs me, this morn- 
 ing, that he has concluded not to go on with 
 the party, saying that he has seen danger 
 
ECHO PARK TO UINTA RIVER 111 
 
 enough. It will be remembered that he 
 was one of the crew on the No Name when 
 she was wrecked. As our boats are rather 
 heavily loaded, I am content that he should 
 leave, although he has been a faithful man. 
 We start early on our return to the boats, 
 taking horses with us from the reservation, 
 and two Indians, who are to bring the ani- 
 mals back. 
 
 Whirlpool Canon is fourteen and a quar- 
 ter miles in length, the walls varying from 
 one thousand eight hundred to two thou- 
 sand four hundred feet in height. The 
 course of the river through Island Park is 
 nine miles. Split Mountain Canon is eight 
 miles long. The highest crags on its walls 
 reach an altitude above the river of from two 
 thousand five hundred to two thousand 
 seven hundred feet. In these canons, ce- 
 dars only are found on the walls. 
 
 The distance by river from the foot of 
 Split Mountain Canon to the mouth of the 
 
in FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Uinta is sixty-seven miles. The valley 
 through which it runs is the home of many 
 antelope, and we have adopted the Indian 
 name, Won'-sits Yu-av — Antelope Valley. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 FROM THE MOUTH OF THE UINTA EIVEE TO 
 THE JUNCTION OF THE GRAND AND GREEN 
 
 JULY 6. — Start early this morning. 
 A short distance below the mouth 
 of the Uinta, we come to the head 
 of a long island. Last winter, a man 
 named Johnson, a hunter and Indian trader, 
 visited us at our camp in White River Val- 
 ley. This man has an Indian wife, and, 
 having no fixed home, usually travels with 
 one of the Ute bands. He informed me it 
 was his intention to plant some com, pota- 
 toes, and other vegetables on this island in 
 the spring, and, knowing that we would pass 
 it, invited us to stop and help ourselves, even 
 if he should not be there ; so we land and go 
 out on the island. Looking about, we soon 
 discover his garden, but it is in a sad condi- 
 
 113 
 
114. FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 tion, having received no care since it was 
 planted. It is yet too early in the season 
 for com, hut Hall suggests that potato tops 
 are good greens, and, anxious for some 
 change from our salt meat fare, we gather 
 a quantity and take them ahoard. At noon 
 we stop and cook our greens for dinner; hut 
 soon, one after another of the party is taken 
 sick ; nausea first, and then severe vomiting, 
 and we tumble around under the trees, 
 groaning with pain, and I feel a little 
 alarmed, lest our poisoning be severe. 
 Emetics are administered to those who are 
 willing to take them, and about the middle 
 of the afternoon we are all rid of the pain. 
 Jack Sumner records in his diary that '*Po- 
 tato tops are not good greens on the sixth 
 day of July." * 
 
 This evening we enter another canon, al- 
 most imperceptibly, as the walls rise very 
 gently. 
 
 * Potato tops do make good greens when they are young, 
 but become poisonous as they mature, like poke shoots. 
 {Ed.X 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 116 
 
 July 7. — We find quiet water to-day, the 
 river sweeping in great and beautiful 
 curves, the canon walls steadily increasing 
 in altitude. The escarpment formed by the 
 cut edges of the rock are often vertical, 
 sometimes terraced, and in some places the 
 treads of the terraces are sloping. In these 
 quiet curves vast amphitheaters are formed, 
 now in vertical rocks, now in steps. 
 
 The sahent point of rock within the curve 
 is usually broken down in a steep slope, and 
 we stop occasionally to climb up, at such a 
 place, where, on looking down, we can see 
 the river sweeping the foot of the opposite 
 cliif, in a great, easy curve, with a perpen- 
 dicular or terraced wall rising from the wa- 
 ter's edge many hundreds of feet. One of 
 these we find very symmetrical, and name 
 it Sumner's Amphitheater. The clifiPs are 
 rarely broken by the entrance of side canons, 
 and we sweep around curv^e after curve, 
 with almost continuous walls, for several 
 miles. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, we find the river 
 
116 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 much rougher, and come upon rapids, not 
 dangerous, but still demanding close atten- 
 tion. 
 
 We camp at night on the right bank, hav- 
 ing made to-day twenty-six miles. 
 
 July 8. — This morning, Bradley and I 
 go out to climb, and gain an altitude of 
 more than two thousand feet above the river, 
 but still do not reach the summit of the 
 wall. 
 
 After dinner, we pass through a region of 
 the wildest desolation. The canon is very 
 tortuous, the river very rapid, and many 
 lateral canons enter on either side. These 
 usually have their branches, so that the re- 
 gion is cut into a wilderness of gray and 
 brown cliffs. In several places, these lat- 
 eral canons are only separated from each 
 other by narrow walls, often hundreds of 
 feet high, but so narrow in places that where 
 softer rocks are found below, they have 
 crumbled away, and left holes in the wall, 
 forming passages from one canon into an- 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 117 
 
 other. These we often call natural bridges; 
 but they were never intended to span 
 streams. They had better, perhaps, be 
 called side doors between canon chambers. 
 
 Piles of broken rock lie against these 
 walls; crags and tower shaped peaks are 
 seen everywhere; and away above them, 
 long lines of broken cliffs, and above and 
 beyond the cliffs are pine forests, of which 
 we obtain occasional glimpses, as we look 
 up through a vista of rocks. 
 
 The walls are almost without vegetation; 
 a few dwarf bushes are seen here and there, 
 clinging to the rocks, and cedars grow from 
 the crevices — ^not like the cedars of a land 
 refreshed with rains, great cones bedecked 
 with spray, but ugly clumps, hke war clubs, 
 beset with spines. We are minded to call 
 this the Canon of Desolation. 
 
 The wind annoys us much to-day. The 
 water, rough by reason of the rapids, is made 
 more so by head gales. Wherever a great 
 face of rock has a southern exposure, the 
 
118 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON, 
 
 rarified air rises, and the wind rushes in be- 
 low, either up or down the canon, or both, 
 causing local currents. 
 
 Just at sunset, we run a bad rapid, and 
 camp at its foot. 
 
 July 9. — Our run to-day is through a 
 canon, with ragged, broken walls, many lat- 
 eral gulches or canons entering on either 
 side. The river is rough, and occasionally 
 it becomes necessary to use lines in passing 
 rocky places. During the afternoon, we 
 come to a rather open canon valley, stretch- 
 ing up toward the west, its farther end lost 
 in the mountains. From a point to which 
 we chmb, we obtain a good view of its 
 course, imtil its angular walls are lost in the 
 yista. 
 
 July 10. — Sumner, who is a fine mechan- 
 ist, is learning to take observations for time 
 with the sextant. To-day, he remains in 
 camp to practice. 
 
 Howland and myself determine to climK 
 out, and start up a lateral canon, taking a 
 barometer with us, for the purpose of meas- 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 119 
 
 uring the thickness of the strata over whicK 
 we pass. The readings of a barometer be- 
 low are recorded every half hour, and our 
 observations must be simultaneous. Where 
 the beds, which we desire to measure, are 
 very thick, we must climb with the utmost 
 speed, to reach their summits in time. 
 Again, where there are thinner beds, we 
 wait for the moment to arrive; and so, by 
 hard and easy stages, we make our way to 
 the top of the canon wall, and reach the 
 plateau above about two o'clock. 
 
 Howland, who has his gun with him, sees 
 deer feeding a mile or two back, and goes 
 off for a hunt. I go to a peak, which seems 
 to be the highest one in this region, about 
 half a mile distant, and climb, for the pur- 
 pose of tracing the topography of the ad- 
 jacent country. From this point, a fine 
 view is obtained. A long plateau stretches 
 across the river, in an easterly and westerly 
 direction, the summit covered by pine for- 
 ests, with intervening elevated valleys and 
 gulches. The plateau itself is cut in two 
 
120 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 by the canon. Other side canons head 
 away back from the river, and run down 
 into the Green. Besides these, deep and 
 abrupt canons are seen to head back on the 
 plateau, and run north toward the Uinta 
 and White Rivers. Still other canons head 
 in the valleys, and run toward the south. 
 The elevation of the plateau being about 
 eight thousand feet above the level of the 
 sea, brings it into a region of moisture, as 
 is well attested by the forests and grassy 
 valleys. The plateau seems to rise gradu- 
 ally to the west, until it merges into the 
 Wasatch Mountains. On these high table 
 lands, elk and deer abound; and they are 
 favorite hunting grounds for the Ute In- 
 dians. 
 
 A little before sunset, Howland and I 
 meet again at the head of the side canon, 
 and down we start. It is late, and we must 
 make great haste, or be caught by the dark- 
 ness ; so we go, running where we can ; leap- 
 ing over the ledges ; letting each other down 
 on the loose rocks, as long as we can see. 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 121 
 
 When darkness comes, we are still some dis- 
 tance from camp, and a long, slow, anxious 
 descent we make, towards the gleaming camp 
 fire. 
 
 After supper, observations for latitude 
 are taken, and only two or three hours for 
 sleep remain, before daylight. 
 
 July 11. — A short distance below camp 
 we run a rapid, and, in doing so, break an 
 oar, and then lose another, both belonging 
 to the Emma Dean, So the pioneer boat 
 has but two oars. 
 
 We see nothing of which oars can be made, 
 so we conclude to run on to some point, 
 where it seems possible to chmb out to the 
 forests on the plateau, and there we will pro- 
 cure suitable timber from which to make 
 new ones. 
 
 We soon approach another rapid. Stand- 
 ing on deck, I think it can be run, and on 
 we go. Coming nearer, I see that at the 
 foot it has a short turn to the left, where the 
 waters pile up against the cliff. Here we 
 try to land, but quickly discover that, being 
 
122 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 in swift water, above the fall, we cannot 
 reach shore, crippled, as we are, by the loss 
 of two oars ; so the bow of the boat is turned 
 down stream. We shoot by a big rock; a 
 reflex wave rolls over our Httle boat and fills 
 her. I see the place is dangerous, and 
 quickly signal to the other boats to land 
 where they can. This is scarcely completed 
 when another wave rolls our boat over, and 
 I am thrown some distance into the water. 
 I soon find that swimming is very easy, and 
 I cannot sink. It is only necessary to ply 
 strokes sufiicient to keep my head out of the 
 water, though now and then, when a breaker 
 rolls over me, I close my mouth, and am car- 
 ried through it. The boat is drifting ahead 
 of me twenty or thirty feet, and, when the 
 great waves are passed, I overtake it, and 
 find Sumner and Dunn clinging to her. As 
 soon as we reach quiet water, we all swim to 
 one side and turn her over. In doing this, 
 Dunn loses his hold and goes under; when 
 he comes up, he is caught by Sumner and 
 pulled to the boat. In the meantime we 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 123 
 
 have drifted down stream some distance, and 
 see another rapid below. How bad it may 
 be we cannot tell, so we swim toward shore, 
 pulling our boat with us, with all the vigor 
 possible, but are carried down much faster 
 than distance toward shore is gained. At 
 last we reach a huge pile of drift wood. Our 
 rolls of blankets, two guns, and a barometer 
 were in the open compartment of the boat, 
 and, when it went over, these were thrown 
 out. The guns and barometer are lost, but 
 I succeeded in catching one of the rolls of 
 blankets, as it drifted by, when we were 
 swimmmg to shore; the other two are lost, 
 and sometimes hereafter we may sleep cold. 
 
 A huge fire is built on the bank, our cloth- 
 ing is spread to dry, and then from the drift 
 logs we select one from which we think oars 
 can be made, and the remainder of the day is 
 spent in sawing them out. 
 
 July 12. — This morning, the new oars 
 are finished, and we start once more. We 
 pass several bad rapids, making a short port- 
 age at one, and before noon we come to a 
 
lU FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 long, bad fall, where the channel is filled with 
 rocks on the left, turning the waters to the 
 right, where they pass under an overhanging 
 rock. On examination, we determine to run 
 it, keeping as close to the left hand rocks as 
 safety will permit, in order to avoid the over- 
 hanging cliff. The little boat runs over all 
 right; another follows, but the men are not 
 able to keep her near enough to the left bank, 
 and she is carried, by a swift chute, into great 
 waves to the right, where she is tossed about, 
 and Bradley is knocked over the side, but his 
 foot catching under the seat, he is dragged 
 along in the water, with his head down ; mak- 
 ing great exertion, he seizes the gunwale 
 with his left hand, and can lift his head above 
 water now and then. To us who are below, 
 it seems impossible to keep the boat from 
 going under the overhanging cliff; but Pow- 
 ell, for the moment, heedless of Bradley's 
 mishap, pulls with all his power for half a 
 dozen strokes, when the danger is past; then 
 he seizes Bradley, and pulls him in. The 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 125 
 
 men in the boat above, seeing this, land, and 
 she is let down by lines. 
 
 Just here we emerge from the Canon of 
 Desolation, as we have named it, into a more 
 open comitry, which extends for a distance 
 of nearly a mile, when we enter another 
 canon, cut through gray sandstone. 
 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon we 
 meet with a new difficulty. The river fills 
 the entire channel; the walls are vertical on 
 either side, from the water's edge, and a bad 
 rapid is beset with rocks. We come to the 
 head of it, and land on a rock in the stream ; 
 the little boat is let down to another rock 
 below, the men of the larger boat holding to 
 the line; the second boat is let down in the 
 same way, and the line of the third boat is 
 brought with them. Now, the third boat 
 pushes out from the upper rock, and, as we 
 have her line below, we pull in and catch her, 
 as she is sweeping by at the foot of the rock 
 on which we stand. Again the first boat is 
 let down stream the full length of her line. 
 
126 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 and the second boat is passed down by the 
 first to the extent of her line, which is held 
 by the men in the first boat; so she is two 
 lines' length from where she started. Then 
 the third boat is let down past the second, 
 and still down, nearly to the length of her 
 line, so that she is fast to the second boat, 
 and swinging down three lines' lengths, with 
 the other two boats intervening. Held in 
 this way, the men are able to pull her into a 
 cove, in the left wall, where she is made fast. 
 But this leaves a man on the rock above, 
 holding to the line of the little boat. When 
 all is ready, he springs from the rock, cling- 
 ing to the line with one hand, and swimming 
 with the other, and we pull him in as he goes 
 by. As the two boats, thus loosened, drift 
 down, the men in the cove pull us all in, as 
 we come opposite ; then we pass around to a 
 point of rock below the cove, close to the 
 wall, land, and make a short portage over the 
 worst places in the rapid, and start again. 
 
 At night we camp on a sand beach; the 
 wind blows a hurricane; the drifting sand 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 127' 
 
 almost blinds us; and nowhere can we find 
 shelter. The wind continues to blow all 
 night; the sand sifts through our blankets, 
 and piles over us, until we are covered as in 
 a snow-drift. We are glad when morning 
 comes. 
 
 July 13. — This morning, we have an ex- 
 hilarating ride. The river is swift, and 
 there are many smooth rapids. I stand on 
 deck, keeping careful watch ahead, and we 
 glide along, mile after mile, plying strokes 
 now on the right, and then on the left, just 
 sufficient to guide our boats past the rocks 
 into smooth water. At noon we emerge 
 from Gray Canon, as we have named it, and 
 camp, for dinner, under a cottonwood tree, 
 standing on the left bank. 
 
 Extensive sand plains extend back from 
 the immediate river valley, as far as we can 
 see, on either side. These naked, drifting 
 sands gleam brilliantly in the midday sun of 
 July. The reflected heat from the glaring 
 surface produces a curious motion of the at- 
 mosphere ; little currents are generated, and 
 
128 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the whole seems to be trembling and moving 
 about in many directions, or, failing to see 
 that the movement is in the atmosphere, it 
 gives the impression of an unstable land. 
 Plains, and hills, and cliffs, and distant 
 mountains seem vaguely to be floating about 
 in a trembling, wave rocked sea, and patches 
 of landscape will seem to float away, and be 
 lost, and then re-appear. 
 
 Just opposite, there are buttes, that are 
 outliers of cliffs to the left. Below, they are 
 composed of shales and marls of light blue 
 and slate colors; and above, the rocks are 
 buff and gray, and then brown. The buttes 
 are buttressed below, where the azure rocks 
 are seen, and terraced above through the 
 gray and brown beds. A long line of cliffs 
 or rock escarpments separate the table 
 lands, through which Gray Canon is cut, 
 from the lower plain. The eye can trace 
 these azure beds and chffs, on either side of 
 the river, in a long line, extending across its 
 course, until they fade away in the perspec- 
 tive. These cliffs are many miles in length. 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 1^9 
 
 and hundreds of feet high; and all these 
 buttes — great mountain-masses of rock — 
 are dancing and fading away, and re-ap- 
 pearing, softly moving about, or so they 
 seem to the eye, as seen through the shifting 
 atmosphere. 
 
 This afternoon, our way is through a val- 
 ley, with Cottonwood groves on either side. 
 The river is deep, broad, and quiet. 
 
 About two hours from noon camp, we dis- 
 cover an Indian crossing, where a number of 
 rafts, rudely constructed of logs and bound 
 together by withes, are floating against the 
 bank. On landing, we see evidences that a 
 party of Indians have crossed within a very 
 few days. This is the place where the la- 
 mented Gunnison crossed, in the year 1853, 
 when making an exploration for a railroad 
 route to the Pacific coast. 
 
 An hour later, we run a long rapid, and 
 stop at its foot to examine some curious 
 rocks, deposited by mineral springs that at 
 one time must have existed here, but which 
 are no longer flowing. 
 
180 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 July 14. — This morning, we pass some cu- 
 rious black bluffs on the right, then two or 
 three short canons, and then we discover the 
 mouth of the San Rafael, a stream which 
 comes down from the distant mountains in 
 the west. Here we stop for an hour or two, 
 and take a short walk up the valley, and find 
 it is a frequent resort for Indians. Arrow 
 heads are scattered about, many of them 
 very beautiful. Flint chips are seen strewn 
 over the ground in great profusion, and the 
 trails are well worn. 
 
 Starting after dinner, we pass some beau- 
 tiful buttes on the left, many of which are 
 very symmetrical. They are chiefly com- 
 posed of gypsum of many hues, from light 
 gray to slate color; then pink, purple, and 
 brown beds. 
 
 Now, we enter another canon. Gradually 
 the walls rise higher and higher as we pro- 
 ceed, and the summit of the canon is formed 
 of the same beds of orange colored sand- 
 stone. Back from the brink, the hollows of 
 the plateau are filled with sand disinte- 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 131 
 
 grated from these orange beds. They are of 
 rich cream color, shaded into maroon, every- 
 where destitute of vegetation, and drifted 
 into long, wave like ridges. 
 
 The course of the river is tortuous, and it 
 nearly doubles upon itself many times. The 
 water is quiet, and constant rowing is neces- 
 sary to make much headway. Sometimes, 
 there is a narrow flood plain between the 
 river and the wall, on one side or the other. 
 Where these long, gentle curves are foimd, 
 the river washes the very foot of the outer 
 wall. A long peninsula of willow bordered 
 meadow projects within the curve, and the 
 talus, at the foot of the cliff, is usually cov- 
 ered with dwarf oaks. The orange colored 
 sandstone is very homogeneous in structure, 
 and the walls are usually vertical, though not 
 very high. Where the river sweeps around 
 a curve under a chff, a vast hollow dome may 
 be seen, with many caves and deep alcoves, 
 that are greatly admired by the members of 
 the party, as we go by. 
 
 We camp at night on the left bank. 
 
132 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 July 15. — Our camp is in a great bend of 
 the canon. The perimeter of the curve is to 
 the west, and we are on the east side of the 
 river. Just opposite, a little stream comes 
 down through a narrow side canon. We 
 cross, and go up to explore it. Just at its 
 mouth, another lateral canon enters, in the 
 angle between the former and the main 
 canon above. Still another enters in the 
 angle between the canon below and the side 
 canon first mentioned, so that three side 
 canons enter at the same point. These 
 canons are very tortuous, almost closed in 
 from view, and, seen from the opposite side 
 of the river, they appear like three alcoves; 
 and we name this Trin- Alcove Bend. 
 
 Going up the little stream, in the central 
 cove, we pass between high walls of sand- 
 stone, and wind about in glens. Springs 
 gush from the rocks at the foot of the walls ; 
 narrow passages in the rocks are threaded, 
 caves are entered, and many side canons are 
 observed. 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 133 
 
 The right cove is a narrow, winding gorge, 
 with overhanging walls, almost shutting out 
 the hght. 
 
 The left is an amphitheater, turning 
 spirally up, with overhanging shelves. A 
 series of basins, filled with water, are seen at 
 different altitudes, as we pass up ; huge rocks 
 are piled below on the right, and overhead 
 there is an arched ceiling. After exploring 
 these alcoves, we recross the river, and climb 
 the rounded rocks on the point of the bend. 
 In every direction, as far as we are able to 
 see, naked rocks appear. Buttes are scat- 
 tered on the landscape, here rounded into 
 cones, there buttressed, columned, and carved 
 in quaint shapes, with deep alcoves and 
 sunken recesses. All about us are basins, 
 excavated in the soft sandstones; and these 
 have been filled by the late rains. 
 
 Over the rounded rocks and water pockets 
 we look off on a fine stretch of river, and 
 beyond are naked rocks and beautiful buttes 
 to the Azure Cliffs, and beyond these, and 
 
184 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 above them, the Brown Cliffs, and still be- 
 yond, mountain peaks ; and clouds piled over 
 all. 
 
 On we go, after dinner, with quiet water, 
 still compelled to row, in order to make fair 
 progress. The canon is yet very tortuous. 
 
 About six miles below noon camp, we go 
 around a great bend to the right, five miles 
 in length, and come back to a point within a 
 quarter of a mile of where we started. Then 
 we sweep around another great bend to the 
 left, making a circuit of nine miles, and come 
 back to the point within six hundred yards of 
 the beginning of the bend. In the two cir- 
 cuits, we describe almost the figure 8. The 
 men call it a bow-knot of river; so we name 
 it Bow-Knot Bend. The line of the figure 
 is fourteen miles in length. 
 
 There is an exquisite charm in our ride to- 
 day down this beautiful canon. It gradu- 
 ally grows deeper with every mile of travel; 
 the walls are synrnaetrically curved, and 
 grandly arched; of a beautiful color, and re- 
 flected in the quiet waters in many places, so 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 135 
 
 as to almost deceive the eye, and suggest the 
 thought, to the beholder, that he is looking 
 into profound depths. We are all in fine 
 spirits, feel very gay, and the badinage of 
 the men is echoed from wall to wall. Now 
 and then we whistle, or shout, or discharge a 
 pistol, to listen to the reverberations among 
 the cliffs. 
 
 At night we camp on the south side of the 
 great Bow-Knot, and, as we eat our supper, 
 which is spread on the beach, we name this 
 Labjrrinth Canon. 
 
 July 16. — Still we go down, on our wind- 
 ing way. We pass tower cliffs, then we find 
 the river widens out for several miles, and 
 meadows are seen on either side, between the 
 river and the walls. We name this expan- 
 sion of the river Tower Park. 
 
 At two o'clock we emerge from Labyrinth 
 Canon, and go into camp. 
 
 July 17. — The line which separates 
 Labyrinth Canon from the one below is but 
 a line, and at once, this morning, we enter 
 another canon. The water fills the entire 
 
136 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 channel, so that nowhere is there room to 
 land. The walls are low, but vertical, and, 
 as we proceed, they gradually increase in 
 altitude. Running a couple of miles, the 
 river changes its course many degrees, to- 
 ward the east. Just here, a little stream 
 comes in on the right, and the wall is broken 
 down ; so we land, and go out to take a view 
 of the surrounding country. We are now 
 down among the buttes, and in a region the 
 surface of which is naked, solid rock — a 
 beautiful red sandstone, forming a smooth, 
 undulating pavement. The Indians call 
 this the "Toom'-pin Tu-weap^f' or "Rock 
 Land," and the ^'Toom'-pin wu-near^ Tu- 
 weap\" or "Land of Standing Rock." 
 
 Off to the south we see a butte, in the form 
 of a fallen cross. It is several miles away, 
 still it presents no inconspicuous figure on 
 the landscape, and must be many hundreds 
 of feet high, probably more than two thou- 
 sand. We note its position on our map, and 
 name it "The Butte of the Cross." 
 
 We continue our journey. In many 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 137 
 
 places the walls, which rise from the water's 
 edge, are overhanging on either side. The 
 stream is still quiet, and we glide along, 
 through a strange, weird, grand region. 
 The landscape everywhere, away from the 
 river, is of rock — cliffs of rock; tables of 
 rock; plateaus of rock; terraces of rock; 
 crags of rock — ten thousand strangely 
 carved forms. Rocks everywhere, and no 
 vegetation ; no soil ; no sand. In long, gentle 
 curves, the river winds about these rocks. 
 
 When speaking of these rocks, we must 
 not conceive of piles of boulders, or heaps of 
 fragments, but a whole land of naked rock, 
 with giant forms carved on it: cathedral 
 shaped buttes, towering hundreds or thou- 
 sands of feet; cliffs that cannot be scaled, 
 and canon walls that shrink the river into 
 insignificance, with vast, hollow domes, and 
 tall pinnacles, and shafts set on the verge 
 overhead, and all highly colored — buff, gray, 
 red, brown, and chocolate; never lichened; 
 never moss-covered; but bare, and often pol- 
 ished. 
 
138 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 We pass a place where two bends of the 
 river come together, an intervening rock 
 having been worn away, and a new channel 
 formed across. The old channel ran in a 
 great circle around to the right, by what was 
 once a circular peninsula; then an island; 
 then the water left the old channel entirely, 
 and passed through the cut, and the old bed 
 of the river is dry. So the great circular 
 rock stands by itself, with precipitous walls 
 all about it, and we find but one place where 
 it can be scaled. Looking from its summit, 
 a long stretch of river is seen, sweeping close 
 to the overhanging cliffs on the right, but 
 having a little meadow between it and the 
 wall on the left. The curve is very gentle 
 and regular. We name this Bonita Bend. 
 
 And just here we climb out once more, to 
 take another bearing on The Butte of the 
 Cross. Reaching an eminence, from which 
 we can overlook the landscape, we are sur- 
 prised to find that our butte, with its wonder- 
 ful form, is indeed two buttes, one so stand- 
 ing in front of the other that, from our last 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 139 
 
 point of view, it gave the appearance of a 
 cross. 
 
 Again, a few miles below Bonita Bend, 
 we go out a mile or two along the rocks, to- 
 ward the Orange Cliffs, passing over ter- 
 races paved with jasper. 
 
 The cliffs are not far away, and we soon 
 reach them, and wander in some deep, 
 painted alcoves, which attracted our atten- 
 tion from the river; then we return to our 
 boats. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, the water becomes 
 swift, and our boats make great speed. An 
 hour of this rapid running brings us to the 
 junction of the Grand and Green, the foot 
 of Stillwater Canon, as we have named it. 
 
 These streams unite in solemn depths, 
 more than one thousand two hundred feet 
 below the general surface of the country. 
 The walls of the lower end of Stillwater 
 Canon are very beautifully curved, as the 
 river sweeps in its meandering course. The 
 lower end of the canon through which the 
 Grand comes down, is also regular, but much 
 
140 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 more direct, and we look up this stream, and 
 out into the country beyond, and obtain 
 glimpses of snow clad peaks, the smnmits 
 of a group of mountains known as the Sierra 
 La Sal. Down the Colorado, the canon 
 walls are much broken. 
 
 We row around into the Grand, and camp 
 on its northwest bank; and here we propose 
 to stay several days, for the purpose of de- 
 termining the latitude and longitude, and 
 the altitude of the walls. Much of the night 
 is spent in making observations with the sex- 
 tant. 
 
 ■ The distance from the mouth of the Uinta 
 to the head of the Canon of Desolation is 
 twenty and three-quarters miles. The 
 Canon of Desolation is ninety-seven miles 
 long; Gray Canon thirty-six. The course 
 of the river through Gunnison's Valley is 
 twenty-seven and a quarter miles; Labyrinth 
 Canon, sixty-two and a half miles. 
 
 In the Canon of Desolation, the highest 
 rocks immediately over the river are about 
 
UINTA RIVER TO THE GRAND 141 
 
 two thousand four hundred feet. This is at 
 Log Cabin Cliff. The highest part of the 
 terrace is near the brink of the Brown Cliffs. 
 Climbing the immediate walls of the canon, 
 and passing back to the canon terrace, and 
 cUmbing that, we find the altitude, above 
 the river, to be 3,300 feet. The lower end of 
 Gray Canon is about 2,000 feet; the lower 
 end of Labyrinth Canon, 1,300 feet. 
 
 Stillwater Canon is forty-two and three- 
 quarters miles long; the highest walls, 1,300 
 feet. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 !FEOM THE JUNCTION OF THE GRAND AND 
 GREEN TO THE MOUTH OF THE LITTLE 
 COLORADO 
 
 JULY 18. — The day is spent in ob- 
 taining the time, and spreading our 
 rations, which, we find, are badly in- 
 jured. The flour has been wet and dried 
 SO many times that it is all musty, and full 
 of hard lumps. We make a sieve of mos- 
 quito netting, and run our flour through it, 
 losing more than two hundred pounds by 
 the process. Our losses, by the wrecking 
 of the No Name, and by various mishaps 
 since, together with the amount thrown 
 away to-day, leave us httle more than two 
 months' supplies, and, to make them last 
 thus long, we must be fortunate enough to 
 lose no more. 
 
 142 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO lifd 
 
 We drag our boats on shore, and turn 
 them over to recalk and pitch them, and 
 Smnner is engaged in repairing barometers. 
 While we are here, for a day or two, resting, 
 we propose to put everything in the best 
 shape for a vigorous campaign. 
 
 July 19. — Bradley and I start this morn- 
 ing to chmb the left wall below the junction. 
 The way we have selected is up a gulch. 
 Climbing for an hour over and among the 
 rocks, we find ourselves in a vast amphithe- 
 ater, and our way cut off. We clamber 
 around to the left for half an hour, until 
 we find that we cannot go up in that direc- 
 tion. Then we try the rocks around to the 
 right, and discover a narrow shelf, nearly 
 half a mile long. In some places, this is 
 so wide that we pass along with ease ; in oth- 
 ers, it is so narrow and sloping that we are 
 compelled to lie down and crawl. We can 
 look over the edge of the shelf, down eight 
 hundred feet, and see the river rolling and 
 plunging among the rocks. Looking up 
 five hundred feet, to the brink of the cliff. 
 
U4i FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 it seems to blend with the sky. We continue 
 along, until we come to a point where the 
 wall is again broken down. Up we climb. 
 On the right, there is a narrow, mural point 
 of rocks, extending toward the river, two 
 or three hundred feet high, and six or eight 
 hundred feet long. We come back to 
 where this sets in, and find it cut off from 
 the main wall by a great crevice. Into this 
 we pass. And now, a long, narrow rock is 
 between us and the river. The rock itself 
 is split longitudinally and transversely; and 
 the rains on the surface above have run down 
 through the crevices, and gathered into 
 channels below, and then run off into the 
 river. The crevices are usually narrow 
 above, and, by erosion of the streams, wider 
 below, forming a network of caves ; but each 
 cave having a narrow, winding sky-light up 
 through the rocks. 
 
 We wander among these corridors for an 
 hour or two, but find no place where the 
 rocks are broken down, so that we can climb 
 up. At last, we determine to attempt a pas- 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 145 
 
 sage by a crevice, and select one which we 
 think is wide enough to admit of the pas- 
 sage of our bodies, and yet narrow enough 
 to climb out by pressing our hands and feet 
 against the walls. So we climb as men 
 would out of a well. Bradley climbs first; 
 I hand him the barometer, then climb over 
 his head, and he hands me the barometer. 
 So we pass each other alternately, until we 
 emerge from the fissure, out on the summit 
 of the rock. And what a world of gran- 
 deur is spread before us! Below is the 
 canon, through which the Colorado runs. 
 We can trace its course for miles, and at 
 points catch glimpses of the river. From 
 the northwest comes the Green, in a narrow, 
 winding gorge. From the northeast comes 
 the Grand, through a canon that seems bot- 
 tomless from where we stand. Away to 
 the west are lines of cliffs and ledges of 
 rock — not such ledges as you may have seen 
 where the quarryman splits his blocks, but 
 ledges from which the gods might quarry 
 mountains, that, rolled out on the plain be- 
 
146 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 low, would stand a lofty range ; and not such 
 cliffs as you may have seen where the swal- 
 low builds its nest, but chffs where the soar- 
 ing eagle is lost to view ere he reaches the 
 summit. 
 
 Between us and the distant cliffs are the 
 strangely carved and pinnacled rocks of the 
 Toom'-pin wu-neaf Tu-weap', On the 
 summit of the opposite wall of the canon are 
 rock forms that we do not understand. 
 Away to the east a group of eruptive moim- 
 tains are seen — the Sierra La Sal. Their 
 slopes are covered with pines, and deep 
 gulches are flanked with great crags, and 
 snow fields are seen near the summits. So 
 the mountains are in uniform, green, gray, 
 and silver. Wherever we look there is but 
 a wilderness of rocks; deep gorges, where 
 the rivers are lost below cliffs and towers 
 and pinnacles; and ten thousand strangely 
 carved forms in every direction ; and beyond 
 them, mountains blending with the clouds. 
 
 Now we return to camp. While we are 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO U1 
 
 eating supper, we very naturally speak of 
 better fare, as musty bread and spoiled bacon 
 are not pleasant. Soon I see Hawkins 
 down by the boat, taking up the sextant, 
 rather a strange proceeding for him, and 
 I question him concerning it. He replies 
 that he is trying to find the latitude and long- 
 itude of the nearest pie. 
 
 July 20. — This morning. Captain Powell 
 and I go out to climb the west wall of the 
 canon, for the purpose of examining the 
 strange rocks seen yesterday from the other 
 side. Two hours bring us to the top, at a 
 point between the Green and Colorado, over- 
 looking the junction of the rivers. A long 
 neck of rock extends toward the mouth of 
 the Grand. Out on this we walk, crossing 
 a great number of deep crevices. Usually, 
 the smooth rock slopes down to the fissure 
 on either side. Sometimes it is an interest- 
 ing question to us whether the slope is not 
 so steep that we cannot stand on it. Some- 
 times, starting down, we are compelled to 
 
148 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 go on, and we are not always sure that the 
 crevice is not too wide for a jump, when we 
 measure it with our eye from above. 
 
 Probably the slopes would not be difficult 
 if there was not a fissure at the lower end; 
 nor would the fissures cause fear if they 
 were but a few feet deep. It is curious how a 
 little obstacle becomes a great obstruction, 
 when a misstep would land a man in the 
 bottom of a deep chasm. Climbing the face 
 of a cliff, a man will walk along a step or 
 shelf, but a few inches wide, without hesi- 
 tancy, if the landing is but ten feet below, 
 should he fall; but if the foot of the chff is 
 a thousand feet down, he will crawl. At 
 last our way is cut off by a fissure so deep and 
 wide that we cannot pass it. Then we turn 
 and walk back into the country, over the 
 smooth, naked sandstone, without vegeta- 
 tion, except that here and there dwarf cedars 
 and pinon pines have found a footing in the 
 huge cracks. There are great basins in the 
 rock, holding water ; some but a few gallons, 
 others hundreds of barrels. 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 14*9 
 
 The day is spent in walking about through 
 these strange scenes. A narrow gulch is cut 
 into the wall of the main canon. Follow 
 this up, and you climb rapidly, as if going 
 up a mountain side, for the gulch heads but 
 a few hundred or a few thousand yards from 
 the wall. But this gulch has its side gulches, 
 and, as you come near to the summit, a group 
 of radiating canons is found. The spaces 
 drained by these little canons are terraced, 
 and are, to a greater or less extent, of the 
 form of amphitheaters, though some are ob- 
 long and some rather irregular. Usually, the 
 spaces drained by any two of these little side 
 canons are separated by a narrow wall, one, 
 two, or three hundred feet high, and often 
 but a few feet in thickness. Sometimes the 
 wall is broken into a line of pyramids above, 
 and still remains a wall below. Now, there 
 are a number of these gulches which break 
 the wall of the main canon of the Green, 
 each one having its system of side canons 
 and amphitheaters, inclosed by walls, or lines 
 of pinnacles. 
 
150 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 The course of the Green, at this point, is 
 approximately at right angles to that of the 
 Colorado, and on the brink of the latter 
 canon we find the same system of terraced 
 and walled glens. The walls, and pinnacles, 
 and towers are of sandstone, homogeneous in 
 structure, but not in color, as they show 
 broad bands of red, buff, and gray. This 
 painting of the rocks, dividing them into sec- 
 tions, increases their apparent height. In 
 some places, these terraced and walled glens, 
 along the Colorado, have coalesced with 
 those along the Green; that is, the inter- 
 vening walls are broken down. It is very 
 rarely that a loose rock is seen. The sand 
 is washed off so that the walls, terraces, and 
 slopes of the glens are all of smooth sand- 
 stone. 
 
 In the walls themselves, curious caves and 
 channels have been carved. In some places, 
 there are little stairways up the walls; in 
 others, the walls present what are known as 
 royal arches; and so we wander through 
 glens, and among pinnacles, and climb the 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 151 
 
 walls from early morn until late in the after- 
 noon. 
 
 July 21. — We start this morning on the 
 Colorado. The river is rough, and bad rap- 
 ids, in close succession, are found. Two 
 very hard portages are made during the fore- 
 noon. After dinner, in running a rapid, the 
 Emma Dean is swamped, and we are thrown 
 into the river, we cling to her, and in the 
 first quiet water below she is righted and 
 bailed out; but three oars are lost in the 
 mishap. The larger boats land above the 
 dangerous place, and we make a portage, 
 that occupies all the afternoon. We camp 
 at night, on the rocks on the left bank, and 
 can scarcely find room to lie down. 
 
 July 22. — This morning, we continue our 
 journey, though short of oars. There is no 
 timber growing on the walls within our 
 reach, and no drift wood along the banks, 
 so we are compelled to go on until something 
 suitable can be found. A mile and three 
 quarters below, we find a huge pile of drift 
 wood, among which are some cottonwood 
 
162 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 logs. From these we select one which we 
 think the best, and the men are set at work 
 sawing oars. Our boats are leaking again, 
 from the strains received in the bad rapids 
 yesterday, so, after dinner, they are turned 
 over, and some of the men are engaged in 
 calking them. 
 
 Captain Powell and I go out to climb the 
 wall to the east, for we can see dwarf pines 
 above, and it is our purpose to collect the 
 resin which oozes from them, to use in pitch- 
 ing our boats. We take a barometer with 
 us, and find that the walls are becoming 
 higher, for now they register an altitude, 
 above the river, of nearly fifteen hundred 
 feet. 
 
 July 23. — On starting, we come at once 
 to difiicult rapids and falls, that, in many 
 places, are more abrupt than in any of the 
 canons through which we have passed, and 
 we decide to name this Cataract Canon. 
 
 From morning until noon, the course of 
 the river is to the west ; the scenery is grand, 
 with rapids and falls below, and walls above. 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 153 
 
 beset with crags and pinnacles. Just at 
 noon we wheel again to the south, and go 
 into camp for dinner. 
 
 While the cook is preparing it, Bradley, 
 Captain Powell, and myself go up into a 
 side canon, that comes in at this point. We 
 enter through a very narrow passage, having 
 to wade along the course of a little stream 
 until a cascade interrupts our progress. 
 Then we climb to the right, for a himdred 
 feet, until we reach a little shelf, along which 
 we pass, walking with great care, for it is 
 narrow, until we pass around the fall. Here 
 the gorge widens into a spacious, sky roofed 
 chamber. In the farther end is a beautiful 
 grove of cottonwoods, and between us and 
 the cottonwoods the little stream widens out 
 into three clear lakelets, with bottonls of 
 smooth rock. Beyond the cottonwoods, the 
 brook tumbles, in a series of white, shining 
 cascades, from heights that seem immeasura- 
 ble. Turning around, we can look through 
 the cleft through which we came, and see 
 the river, with towering walls beyond. 
 
154 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 What a chamber for a resting place is this! 
 hewn from the soHd rock; the heavens for 
 a ceiling; cascade fountains within; a grove 
 in the conservatory, clear lakelets for a re- 
 freshing bath, and an outlook through the 
 doorway on a raging river, with cliflPs and 
 mountains beyond. 
 
 Our way, after dinner, is through a gorge, 
 grand beyond description. The walls are 
 nearly vertical; the river broad and swift, 
 but free from rocks and falls. From the 
 edge of the water to the brink of the cliffs 
 it is one thousand six hundred to one thou- 
 sand eight hundred feet. At this great 
 depth, the river rolls in solemn majesty. 
 The cliffs are reflected from the more quiet 
 river, and we seem to be in the depths of 
 the earth, and yet can look down into the 
 waters that reflect a bottomless abyss. We 
 arrive, early in the afternoon, at the head of 
 more rapids and falls, but, wearied with past 
 work, we determine to rest, so go into camp, 
 and the afternoon and evening are spent by 
 the men in discussing the probabihties of 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 1651 
 
 sucessf ully navigating the river below. The 
 barometric records are examined, to see what 
 descent we have made since we left the mouth 
 of the Grand, and what descent since we 
 left the Pacific Railroad, and what fall there 
 yet must be to the river, ere we reach the end 
 of the great canons. The conclusion to 
 which the men arrive seems to be about this : 
 that there are great descents yet to be made, 
 but, if they are distributed in rapids and 
 short falls, as they have been heretofore, we 
 will be able to overcome them. But, may 
 be, we shall come to a fall in these canons 
 which we cannot pass, where the walls rise 
 from the water's edge, so that we cannot 
 land, and where the water is so swift that 
 we cannot return. Such places have been 
 found, except that the falls were not so 
 great but that we could run them with safety. 
 How will it be in the future ! So they specu- 
 late over the serious probabilities in jesting 
 mood, and I hear Sumner remark, **My idea 
 is, we had better go slow, and learn to ped- 
 dle." 
 
156 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 July 24i. — ^We examine the rapids below. 
 Large rocks have fallen from the walls — 
 great, angular blocks, which have rolled 
 down the talus, and are strewn along the 
 channel. We are compelled to make three 
 portages in succession, the distance being 
 less than three-fourths of a mile, with a fall 
 of seventy-five feet. Among these rocks, 
 in chutes, whirlpools, and great waves, with 
 rushing breakers and foam, the water finds 
 its way, still tumbling down. We stop for 
 the night, only three-fourths of a mile be- 
 low the last camp. A very hard day's work 
 has been done, and at evening I sit on a 
 rock by the edge of the river, to look at the 
 water, and listen to its roar. Hours ago, 
 deep shadows had settled into the canon 
 as the sun passed behind the cliffs. Now, 
 doubtless, the sun has gone down, for we 
 can see no gUnt of light on the crags above. 
 Darkness is coming on. The waves are roll- 
 ing, with crests of foam so white they seem 
 almost to give a light of their own. Near by, 
 a chute of water strikes the foot of a great 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 167 
 
 block of limestone, fifty feet high, and the 
 waters pile up against it, and roll back. 
 Where there are sunken rocks, the water 
 heaps up in mounds, or even in cones. At 
 a point where rocks come very near the sur- 
 face, the water forms a chute above, strikes, 
 and is shot up ten or fifteen feet, and piles 
 back in gentle curves, as in a fountain; and 
 on the river tumbles and rolls. 
 
 July 25. — Still more rapids and falls to- 
 day. In one, the Emma Dean is caught 
 in a whirlpool, and set spinning about; and 
 it is with great difficulty we are able to get 
 out of it, with the loss of an oar. At noon, 
 another is made; and on we go, running 
 some of the rapids, letting down with lines 
 past others, and making two short portages. 
 We camp on the right bank, hungry and 
 tired. 
 
 July 26. — We run a short distance this 
 morning, and go into camp, to make oars 
 and repair boats and barometers. The 
 walls of the canon have been steadily increas- 
 ing in altitude to this point, and now they 
 
158 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 are more than two thousand feet high. In 
 many places, they are vertical from the 
 water's edge; in others, there is a talus be- 
 tween the river and the foot of the cliffs, and 
 they are often broken down by side canons. 
 It is probable that the river is nearly as low 
 now as it is ever found. High water mark 
 can be observed forty, fifty, sixty, or a hun- 
 dred feet above its present stage. Sometimes 
 logs and drift wood are seen wedged into the 
 crevice overhead, where floods have carried 
 them. 
 
 About ten o'clock, Powell, Bradley, How- 
 land, Hall, and myself start up a side canon 
 to the east. We soon come to pools of 
 water; then to a brook, which is lost in the 
 sands below; and, passing up the brook, we 
 find the canon narrows, the walls close in, 
 are often overhanging, and at last we find 
 ourselves in a vast amphitheater, with a pool 
 of deep, clear, cold water on the bottom. 
 At first, our way seems cut off ; but we soon 
 discover a little shelf, along which we climb, 
 and, passing beyond the pool, walk a hun- 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 159 
 
 dred yards or more, turn to the right, and 
 find ourselves in another dome-shaped am- 
 phitheater. There is a winding cleft at the 
 top, reaching out to the country above, 
 nearly two thousand feet overhead. The 
 rounded, basin shaped bottom is filled with 
 water to the foot of the walls. There is 
 no shelf by which we can pass around the 
 foot. If we swim across, we meet with a 
 face of rock hundreds of feet high, over 
 which a little rill glides, and it will be im- 
 possible to cUmb. So we can go no further 
 up this canon. Then we turn back, and 
 examine the walls on either side carefully, 
 to discover, if possible, some way of climbing 
 out. 
 
 In this search, every man takes his own 
 course, and we are scattered. I almost aban- 
 don the idea of getting out, and am engaged 
 in searching for fossils, when I discover, on 
 the north, a broken place, up which it may 
 be possible for me to climb. The way, for 
 a distance, is up a slide of rocks; then up 
 an irregular amphitheater, on points that 
 
160 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 form steps and give handhold, and then I 
 reach a httle shelf, along which I walk, and 
 discover a vertical fissure, parallel to the 
 face of the wall, and reaching to a higher 
 shelf. This fissure is narrow, and I try to 
 climb up to the bench, which is about forty- 
 feet overhead. I have a barometer on my 
 back, which rather impedes my climbing. 
 The walls of the fissure are of smooth lime- 
 stone, offering neither foot nor hand hold. 
 So I support myself by pressing my back 
 against one wall and my knees against the 
 other, and, in this way, lift my body, in a 
 shuffling manner, a few inches at a time, 
 imtil I have, perhaps, made twenty-five feet 
 of the distance, when the crevice widens a 
 little, and I cannot press my knees against 
 the rocks in front with sufficient power to 
 give me support in Hfting my body, and I 
 try to go back. This I cannot do without 
 falling. So I struggle along sidewise, 
 farther into the crevice, where it narrows. 
 But by this time my muscles are exhausted, 
 and I cannot chmb longer; so I move stiU 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 161 
 
 a little farther into the crevice, where it is 
 so narrow and wedging that I can lie in it, 
 and there I rest. 
 
 Five or ten minutes of this relief, and up 
 once more I go, and reach the bench above. 
 On this I can walk for a quarter of a mile, 
 till I come to a place where the wall is again 
 broken down, so that I can climb up still 
 farther, and in an hour I reach the summit. 
 I hang up my barometer, to give it a few 
 minutes' time to settle, and occupy myself 
 in collecting resin from the pinon pines, 
 which are foimd in great abundance. One 
 of the principal objects in making this climb 
 was to get this resin, for the purpose of 
 smearing our boats; but I have with me no 
 means of carrying it down. The day is very 
 hot, and my coat was left in camp, so I have 
 no linings to tear out. Then it occurs to 
 me to cut off the sleeve of my shirt, tie it 
 up at one end, and in this little sack I collect 
 about a gallon of pitch. 
 
 After taking observations for altitude, I 
 wander back on the rock, for an hour or 
 
162 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 two, when suddenly I notice that a storm 
 is coming from the south. I seek a shelter 
 in the rocks; but when the storm bursts, it 
 comes down as a flood from the heavens, not 
 with gentle drops at first, slowly increasing 
 in quantity, but as if suddenly poured out. 
 I am thoroughly drenched, and almost 
 washed away. It lasts not more than half 
 an hour, when the clouds sweep by to the 
 north, and I have sunshine again. 
 
 In the meantime, I have discovered a bet- 
 ter way of getting down, and I start for 
 camp, making the greatest haste possible. 
 On reaching the bottom of the side canon, 
 I find a thousand streams rolling down the 
 cliffs on every side, carrying with them red 
 sand ; and these all unite in the canon below, 
 in one great stream of red mud. 
 
 Traveling as fast as I can run, I soon reach 
 the foot of the stream, for the rain did not 
 reach the lower end of the canon, and the 
 water is running down a dry bed of sand; 
 and, although it comes in waves, several feet 
 high and fifteen or twenty feet in width, 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 163 
 
 the sands soak it up, and it is lost. But 
 wave follows wave, and rolls along, and is 
 swallowed up; and still the floods come on 
 from above. I find that I can travel faster 
 than the stream; so I hasten to camp, and 
 tell the men there is a river coming down 
 the canon. We carry our camp equipage 
 hastily from the bank, to where we think it 
 will be above the water. Then we stand by, 
 and see the river roll on to join the Colo- 
 rado. Great quantities of gypsum are 
 found at the bottom of the gorge ; so we name 
 it Gypsum Canon. 
 
 July 27. — ^We have more rapids and falls 
 until noon; then we come to a narrow place 
 in the canon, with vertical walls for sev- 
 eral hundred feet, above which are steep 
 steps and sloping rocks back to the smnmits. 
 The river is very narrow, and we make our 
 way with great care and much anxiety, hug- 
 ging the wall on the left, and carefully ex- 
 amining the way before us. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, we pass to the left, 
 around a sharp point, which is somewhat 
 
164« FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 broken down near the foot, and discover a 
 flock of mountain sheep on the rocks, more 
 than a himdred feet above us. We quickly 
 land in a cove, out of sight, and away go 
 all the hunters with their guns, for the sheep 
 have not discovered us. Soon, we hear fir- 
 ing, and those of us who have remained in 
 the boats climb up to see what success the 
 hunters have had. One sheep has been 
 killed, and two of the men are still pursuing 
 them. In a few minutes, we hear firing 
 again, and the next moment down come the 
 flock, clattering over the rocks, within 
 twenty yards of us. One of the hunters 
 seizes his gun, and brings a second sheep 
 down, and the next minute the remainder 
 of the flock is lost behind the rocks. We 
 all give chase ; but it is impossible to follow 
 their tracks over the naked rock, and we 
 see them no more. Where they went out 
 of this rock walled canon is a mystery, for 
 we can see no way of escape. Doubtless, 
 if we could spare the time for the search. 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 165 
 
 we could find some gulch up which they 
 ran. 
 
 We lash our prizes to the deck of one of 
 the boats, and go on for a short distance; 
 but fresh meat is too tempting for us, and we 
 stop early to have a feast. And a feast it 
 is! Two fine, young sheep. We care not 
 for bread, or beans, or dried apples to-night; 
 coffee and mutton is all we ask. 
 
 July 28. — ^We make two portages this 
 morning, one of them very long. During 
 the afternoon we run a chute, more than 
 half a mile in length, narrow and rapid. 
 This chute has a floor of marble; the rocks 
 dip in the direction in which we are going, 
 and the fall of the stream conforms to the 
 inclination of the beds ; so we float on water 
 that is gliding down an inclined plane. At 
 the foot of the chute, the river turns sharply 
 to the right, and the water rolls up against 
 a rock which, from above, seems to stand 
 directly athwart its course. As we approach 
 it, we pull with all our power to the right, 
 
166 FIRST THROUGH GHANB CANYON 
 
 but it seems impossible to avoid being car- 
 ried headlong against the cliff, and we are 
 carried up high on the waves — ^not against 
 the rocks, for the rebounding water strikes 
 us, and we are beaten back, and pass on with 
 safety, except that we get a good drench- 
 ing. 
 
 After this, the walls suddenly close in, so 
 that the canon is narrower than we have 
 ever known it. The water fills it from wall 
 to wall, giving us no landing place at the 
 foot of the cliff; the river is very swift, the 
 canon is very tortuous, so that we can see 
 but a few hundred yards ahead; the walls 
 tower over us, often overhanging so as to 
 almost shut out the light. I stand on deck, 
 watching with intense anxiety, lest this may 
 lead us into some danger ; but we glide along, 
 with no obstruction, no falls, no rocks, and, 
 in a mile and a half, emerge from the narrow 
 gorge into a more open and broken portion 
 of the canon. Now that it is past, it seems 
 a very simple thing indeed to run through 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 167 
 
 such a place, but the fear of what might he 
 ahead made a deep impression on us. 
 
 At three o'clock we arrive at the foot of 
 Cataract Canon. Here a long canon valley 
 comes down from the east, and the river turns 
 sharply to the west in a continuation of the 
 line of the lateral valley. In the bend on 
 the right, vast numbers of crags, and pinna- 
 cles, and tower shaped rocks are seen. We 
 call it Mille Crag Bend. 
 
 And now we wheel into another caiion, on 
 swift water, imobstructed by rocks. This 
 new canon is very narrow and very straight, 
 with walls vertical below and terraced 
 above. The brink of the chfF is 1,300 feet 
 above the water, where we enter it, but the 
 rocks dip to the west, and, as the course of 
 the canon is in that direction, the walls are 
 seen to slowly decrease in altitude. Float- 
 ing down this narrow channel, and looking 
 out through the caiion crevice away in the 
 distance, the river is seen to turn again to the 
 left, and beyond this point, away many miles, 
 
168 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 a great mountain is seen. Still floating 
 down, we see other mountains, now to the 
 right, now on the left, until a great moun- 
 tain range is unfolded to view. We name 
 this Narrow Canon, and it terminates at the 
 bend of the river below. 
 
 As we go. down to this point, we discover 
 the mouth of a stream, which enters from the 
 right. Into this our little boat is turned. 
 One of the men in the boat following, see- 
 ing what we have done, shouts to Dunn, 
 asking if it is a trout-stream. Dunn replies, 
 much disgusted, that it is "a dirty devil," 
 and by this name the river is to be known 
 hereafter.* The water is exceedingly 
 muddy, and has an impleasant odor. 
 
 Some of us go out for half a mile, and 
 climb a butte to the north. The course of 
 the Dirty Devil River can be traced for 
 many miles. It comes down through a very 
 narrow canon, and beyond it, to the south- 
 west, there is a long line of cliffs, with a 
 broad terrace, or bench, between it and the 
 
 •Powell afterwards renamed it Fr6mont River. (Ed,) 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 169 
 
 brink of the canon, and beyond these cliffs 
 is situated the range of mountains seen as 
 we came down Narrow Canon. 
 
 Looking up the Colorado, the chasm 
 through which it runs can be seen, but we 
 cannot look down on its waters. The whole 
 country is a region of naked rock, of many 
 colors, with cliffs and buttes about us, and 
 towering mountains in the distance. 
 
 July 29. — ^We enter a canon to-day, with 
 low, red walls. A short distance below its 
 head we discover the ruins of an old build- 
 ing, on the left wall. There is a narrow 
 plain between the river and the wall just 
 here, and on the brink of a rock two hun- 
 dred feet high stands this old house. Its 
 walls are of stone, laid in mortar, with much 
 regularity. It was probably built three 
 stories high; the lower story is yet almost 
 intact; the second is much broken down, and 
 scarcely anything is left of the third. Great 
 quantities of flint chips are found on the 
 rocks near by, and many arrow heads, some 
 perfect, others broken; and fragments of 
 
170 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 pottery are strewn about in great profusion. 
 On the face of the cliff, under the building, 
 and along down the river, for two or three 
 hundred yards, there are many etchings. 
 Two hours are given to the examination of 
 these interesting ruins, then we run down 
 fifteen miles farther, and discover another 
 group. The principal building was situ- 
 ated on the summit of the hill. A part of 
 the walls are standing, to the height of eight 
 or ten feet, and the mortar yet remains, in 
 some places. The house was in the shape 
 of an L, with five rooms on the ground 
 floor, one in the angle, and two in each ex- 
 tension. In the space in the angle, there is 
 a deep excavation. From what we know 
 of the people in the province of Tusayan, 
 who are, doubtless, of the same race as the 
 former inhabitants of these ruins, we con- 
 clude that this was a "kiva," or underground 
 chamber, in which their religious ceremonies 
 were performed. 
 
 We leave these ruins, and run down two 
 or three miles, and go into camp about mid- 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 171 
 
 afternoon. And now I climb the wall and 
 go out into the back country for a walk. 
 
 The sandstone, through which the canon 
 is cut, is red and homogeneous, being the 
 same as that through which Labyrinth 
 runs. The smooth, naked rock stretches 
 out on either side of the river for many miles, 
 but curiously carved mounds and cones are 
 scattered everywhere, and deep holes are 
 worn out. Many of these pockets are filled 
 with water. In one of these holes, or wells, 
 twenty feet deep, I find a tree growing. 
 The excavation is so narrow that I can step 
 from its brink to a limb on the tree, and 
 descend to the bottom of the well down a 
 growing ladder. Many of these pockets are 
 pot-holes, being found in the courses of little 
 rills, or brooks, that run during the rains 
 which occasionally fall in this region; and 
 often a few harder rocks, which evidently 
 assisted in their excavation, can be found in 
 their bottoms. Others, which are shallower, 
 are not so easily explained. Perhaps they 
 are found where softer spots existed in the 
 
m FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 sandstone, places that yielded more readily 
 to atmospheric degradation, and where the 
 loose sands were carried away by the winds. 
 Just before sundown, I attempt to climb 
 a rounded eminence, from which I hope to 
 obtain a good outlook on the surrounding 
 country. It is formed of smooth mounds, 
 piled one above another. Up these I climb, 
 winding here and there, to find a practicable 
 way, until near the summit they become too 
 steep for me to proceed. I search about, a 
 few minutes, for a more easy way, when I 
 am surprised at finding a stairway, evidently 
 cut in the rock by hands. At one place, 
 where there is a vertical wall of ten or twelve 
 feet, I find an old, ricketty ladder. It may 
 be that this was a watch-tower of that ancient 
 people whose homes we have found in ruins. 
 On many of the tributaries of the Colorado 
 I have heretofore examined their deserted 
 dwellings. Those that show evidences of 
 being built during the latter part of their 
 occupation of the coimtry, are, usually, 
 placed on the most inaccessible cliffs. Some- 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 173 
 
 times, the mouths of caves have been walled 
 across, and there are many other evidences 
 .to show their anxiety to secure defensible 
 positions. Probably the nomadic tribes 
 were sweeping down upon them, and they 
 resorted to these cliffs and canons for safety. 
 It is not unreasonable to suppose that this 
 orange mound was used as a watch-tower. 
 Here I stand, where these now lost people 
 stood centuries ago, and look over this 
 strange country. I gaze off to great moun- 
 tains, in the northwest, which are slowly cov- 
 ered by the night until they are lost, and 
 then I return to camp. It is no easy task 
 to find my way down the wall in the dark- 
 ness, and I clamber about until it is nearly 
 midnight, before I arrive. 
 
 July 30. — ^We make good progress to- 
 day, as the water, though smooth, is swift. 
 Sometimes, the canon walls are vertical to 
 the top ; sometimes, they are vertical below, 
 and have a moimd covered slope above; in 
 other places, the slope, with its mounds, 
 comes down to the water's edge. 
 
174j first through GRAND CANYON 
 
 Still proceeding on our way, we find the 
 orange sandstone is cut in two by a group 
 of firm, calcareous strata, and the lower bed 
 is underlaid by soft gypsiferous shales. 
 Sometimes, the upper homogeneous bed is 
 a smooth, vertical wall, but usually it is 
 carved with mounds, with gently meander- 
 ing valley lines. The lower bed, yielding 
 to gravity, as the softer shales below work 
 out into the river, breaks into angular sur- 
 faces, often having a columnar appearance. 
 One could almost imagine that the walls had 
 been carved with a purpose, to represent 
 giant architectural forms. 
 
 In the deep recesses of the walls, we find 
 springs, with mosses and ferns on the mois- 
 tened sandstone. 
 
 July 31. — We have a cool, pleasant ride 
 to-day, through this part of the canon. The 
 walls are steadily increasing in altitude, the 
 curves are gentle, and often the river sweeps 
 by an arc of vertical wall, smooth and un- 
 broken, and then by a curve that is varie- 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 175 
 
 gated by royal arches, mossy alcoves, deep, 
 beautiful glens, and painted grottos. 
 
 Soon after dinner, we discover the mouth 
 of the San Juan, where we camp. The re- 
 mainder of the afternoon is given to hunting 
 some way by which we can climb out of the 
 canon; but it ends in failure. 
 
 Augtist 1. — We drop down two miles this 
 morning, and go into camp again. There 
 is a low, willow covered strip of land along 
 the walls on the east. Across this we walk, 
 to explore an alcove which we see from the 
 river. On entering, we find a little grove 
 of box-elder and cottonwood trees; and, 
 turning to the right, we find ourselves in a 
 vast chamber, carved out of the rock. At 
 the upper end there is a clear, deep pool of 
 water, bordered with verdure. Standing by 
 the side of this, we can see the grove at the 
 entrance. The chamber is more than two 
 hundred feet high, five hundred feet long, 
 and two hundred feet wide. Through the 
 ceiling, and on through the rocks for a thou- 
 
176 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 sand feet above, there is a narrow, winding 
 skylight; and this is all carved out by a little 
 stream, which only runs during the few 
 showers that fall now and then in this arid 
 country. The waters from the bare rocks 
 back of the canon, gathering rapidly into a 
 small channel, have eroded a deep side 
 canon, through which they run, until they 
 fall into the farther end of this chamber. 
 The rock at the ceiling is hard, the rock be- 
 low, very soft and friable; and, having cut 
 through the upper harder portion down into 
 the lower and softer, the stream has washed 
 out these friable sandstones; and thus the 
 chamber has been excavated. 
 
 Here we bring our camp. When "Old 
 Shady" sings us a song at night, we are 
 pleased to find that this hollow in the rock 
 is filled with sweet soimds. It was doubt- 
 less made for an academy of music by its 
 storm born architects ; so we name it Music 
 Temple. 
 
 August 2. — We still keep our camp in 
 Music Temple to-day. 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 177 
 
 I wish to obtain a view of the adjacent 
 country, if possible ; so, early in the morning, 
 the men take me across the river, and I pass 
 along by the foot of the cliff half a mile up 
 stream, and then climb first up broken ledges, 
 then two or three hundred yards up a smooth, 
 sloping rock, and then pass out on a narrow 
 ridge. Still, I find I have not attained an 
 altitude from which I can overlook the re- 
 gion outside of the canon; and so I descend 
 into a httle gulch, and climb again to a 
 higher ridge, all the way along naked sand- 
 stone, and at last I reach a point of com- 
 manding view. I can look several miles up 
 the San Juan, and a long distance up the 
 Colorado; and away to the northwest I can 
 see the Henry Mountains ; to the northeast, 
 the Sierra La Sal ; to the southeast, unknown 
 mountains; and to the southwest, the mean- 
 dering of the canon. Then I return to the 
 bank of the river. 
 
 We sleep again in Music Temple. 
 
 August 3. — Start early this morning. 
 The features of this canon are greatly di- 
 
178 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 versified. Still vertical walls at times. 
 These are usually found to stand above great 
 curves. The river, sweeping around these 
 bends, undermines the chffs in places. 
 Sometimes, the rocks are overhanging; in 
 other curves, curious, narrow glens are 
 found. Through these we climb, by a rough 
 stairway, perhaps several hundred feet, to 
 where a spring bursts out from under an 
 overhanging cliff, and where cottonwoods 
 and willows stand, while, along the curves of 
 the brooklet, oaks grow, and other rich vege- 
 tation is seen, in marked contrast to the gen- 
 eral appearance of naked rock. We call 
 these Oak Glens. 
 
 Other wonderful features are the many side 
 canons or gorges that we pass. Sometimes, 
 we stop to explore these for a short distance. 
 In some places, their walls are much nearer 
 each other above than below, so that they 
 look somewhat like caves or chambers in the 
 rocks. Usually, in going up such a gorge, 
 we find beautiful vegetation ; but our way is 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 179 
 
 often cut off by deep basins, or pot-holes, as 
 they are called. 
 
 On the walls, and back many miles into 
 the country, numbers of monument shaped 
 buttes are observed. So we have a curious 
 ensemble of wonderful features — carved 
 walls, royal arches, glens, alcove gulches, 
 mounds, and monuments. From which of 
 these features shall we select a name? We 
 decide to call it Glen Canon. 
 
 Past these towering monuments, past 
 these mounded billows of orange sandstone, 
 past these oak set glens, past these fern 
 decked alcoves, past these mural curves, we 
 glide hour after hour, stopping now and 
 then, as our attention is arrested by some 
 new wonder, until we reach a point which is 
 historic. 
 
 In the year 1776, Father Escalante, a 
 Spanish priest, made an expedition from 
 Santa Fe to the northwest, crossing the 
 Grand and Green, and then passing down 
 along the Wasatch Mountains and the south- 
 
180 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ern plateaus, until he reached the Rio Vir- 
 gen. His intention was to cross to the Mis- 
 sion of Monterey; but, from information re- 
 ceived from the Indians, he decided that the 
 route was impracticable. Not wishing to 
 return to Santa Fe over the circuitous route 
 by which he had just traveled, he attempted 
 to go by one more direct, and which led him 
 across the Colorado, at a point known as 
 El vado de los Padres, From the descrip- 
 tion which we have read, we are enabled to 
 determine the place. A little stream comes 
 down through a very narrow side canon from 
 the west. It was down this that he came, 
 and our boats are lying at the point where 
 the ford crosses. A well beaten Indian trail 
 is seen here yet. Between the cliff and the 
 river there is a little meadow. The ashes 
 of many camp fires are seen, and the bones 
 of numbers of cattle are bleaching on the 
 grass. For several years the Navajos have 
 raided on the Mormons that dwell in the val- 
 leys to the west, and they doubtless cross 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 181 
 
 frequently at this ford with their stolen cat- 
 tle. 
 
 August 4. — To-day the walls grow higher, 
 and the canon much narrower. Monuments 
 are still seen on either side ; beautiful glens, 
 and alcoves, and gorges, and side canons are 
 yet found. After dinner, we find the river 
 making a sudden turn to the northwest, and 
 the whole character of the canon changed. 
 The walls are many hundreds of feet higher, 
 and the rocks are chiefly variegated shales 
 of beautiful colors — creamy orange above, 
 then bright vermilion, and below, purple and 
 chocolate beds, with green and yellow sands. 
 We run four miles through this, in a direc- 
 tion a little to the west of north; wheel again 
 to the west, and pass into a portion of the 
 canon where the characteristics are more like 
 those above the bend. At night we stop at 
 the mouth of a creek coming in from the 
 right, and suppose it to be the Paria, which 
 was described to me last year by a Mormon 
 missionary. 
 
182 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Here the canon terminates abruptly in a 
 line of eliif s, which stretches from either side 
 across the river. 
 
 Augiist 5. — With some feeling of anxiety, 
 we enter a new canon this morning. yVe 
 have learned to closely observe the texture 
 of the rock. In softer strata, we have a 
 quiet river; in harder, we find rapids and 
 falls. Below us are the limestones and hard 
 sandstones, which we found in Cataract 
 Canon. This bodes toil and danger. Be- 
 sides the texture of the rocks, there is an- 
 other condition which affects the character 
 of the channel, as we have found by experi- 
 ence. Where the strata are horizontal, the 
 river is often quiet; but, even though it may 
 be very swift in places, no great obstacles are 
 found. Where the rocks incline in the di- 
 rection traveled, the river usually sweeps 
 with great velocity, but still we have few rap- 
 ids and falls. But where the rocks dip up 
 stream, and the river cuts obliquely across 
 the upturned formations, harder strata 
 above, and softer below, we have rapids and 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 183 
 
 falls. Into hard rocks, and into rocks dip- 
 ping up stream, we pass this morning, and 
 start on a long, rocky, mad rapid. On the 
 left there is a vertical rock, and down by this 
 chff and around to the left we glide, just 
 tossed enough by the waves to appreciate 
 the rate at which we are traveling. 
 
 The canon is narrow, with vertical walls, 
 which gradually grow higher. More rap- 
 ids and falls are found. We come to one 
 with a drop of sixteen feet, around which 
 we make a portage, and then stop for din- 
 ner. 
 
 Then a run of two miles, and another por- 
 tage, long and difficult ; then we camp for the 
 night, on a bank of sand. 
 
 August 6. — Canon walls, still higher and 
 higher, as we go down through strata. There 
 is a steep talus at the foot of the cliff, and, 
 in some places, the upper parts of the walls 
 are terraced. 
 
 About ten o'clock we come to a place 
 where the river occupies the entire channel, 
 and the walls are vertical from the water's 
 
184 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 edge. We see a fall below, and row up 
 against the cliff. There is a little shelf, or 
 rather a horizontal crevice, a few feet over 
 our heads. One man stands on the deck of 
 the boat, another climbs on his shoulders, and 
 then into the crevice. Then we pass him 
 a line, and two or three others, with myself, 
 follow; then we pass along the crevice until 
 it becomes a shelf, as the upper part, or roof, 
 is broken off. On this we walk for a short 
 distance, slowly climbing all the way, until 
 we reach a point where the shelf is broken 
 off, and we can pass no farther. Then we 
 go back to the boat, cross the stream, and 
 get some logs that have lodged in the rocks, 
 bring them to our side, pass them along the 
 crevice and shelf, and bridge over the broken 
 place. Then we go on to a point over the 
 falls, but do not obtain a satisfactory view. 
 Then we climb out to the top of the wall, and 
 walk along to find a point below the fall, 
 from which it can be seen. From this point 
 it seems possible to let down our boats, with 
 lines, to the head of the rapids, and then 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 185 
 
 make a portage ; so we return, row down by 
 the side of the cliff, as far as we dare, and 
 fasten one of the boats to a rock. Then we 
 let down another boat to the end of its line 
 beyond the first, and the third boat to the 
 end of its line below the second, which brings 
 it to the head of the fall, and under an over- 
 hanging rock. Then the upper boat, in 
 obedience to a signal, lets go ; we pull in the 
 line, and catch the nearest boat as it comes, 
 and then the last. Then we make a portage, 
 and go on. 
 
 We go into camp early this afternoon, at 
 a place where it seems possible to climb out, 
 and the evening is spent in "making observa- 
 tions for time." 
 
 'August 7. — The almanac tells us that we 
 are to have an eclipse of the sun to-day, so 
 Captain Powell and myself start early, tak- 
 ing our instruments with us, for the purpose 
 of making observations on the eclipse, to 
 determine our longitude. Arriving at the 
 summit, after four hours' hard climbing, to 
 attain 2,300 feet in height, we hurriedly build 
 
186 FraST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 a platform of rock's, on whict to place our 
 instruments, and quietly wait for the eclipse; 
 but clouds come on, and rain falls, and sun 
 and moon are obscured. 
 
 Much disappointed, we start on our return 
 to camp, but it is late, and the clouds make 
 the night very dark. Still we feel our way 
 down among the rocks with great care, for 
 two or three hours, though making slow 
 progress indeed. At last we lose our way, 
 and dare proceed no farther. The rain 
 comes down in torrents, and we can find no 
 shelter. We can neither climb up nor go 
 down, and in the darkness dare not move 
 about, but sit and "weather out" the night. 
 
 August 8. — ^Daylight comes, after a long, 
 oh! how long a night, and we soon reach 
 camp. 
 
 After breakfast we start again, and make 
 two portages during the forenoon. 
 
 The limestone of this canon is often pol- 
 ished, and makes a beautiful marble. Some- 
 times the rocks are of many colors — white, 
 gray, pink, and purple, with saffron tints. 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 187 
 
 It is with very great labor that we make 
 progress, meeting with many obstructions, 
 running rapids, letting down our boats with 
 lines, from rock to rock, and sometimes car- 
 rying boats and cargoes around bad places. 
 We camp at night, just after a hard portage, 
 under an overhanging wall, glad to find shel- 
 ter from the rain. We have to search for 
 some time to find a few sticks of driftwood, 
 just sufficient to boil a cup of coffee. 
 
 The water sweeps rapidly in this elbow of 
 river, and has cut its way under the rock, 
 excavating a vast half circular chamber, 
 which, if utilized for a theater, would give 
 sitting to fifty thousand people. Objections 
 might be raised against it, from the fact that, 
 at high water, the floor is covered with a rag- 
 ing flood. 
 
 August 9. — ^And now, the scenery is on a 
 grand scale. The walls of the canon, 2,500 
 feet high, are of marble, of many beautiful 
 colors, and often polished below by the 
 waves, or far up the sides, where showers 
 have washed the sands over the cliffs. 
 
188 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 At one place I have a walk, for more than 
 a mile, on a marble pavement, all polished 
 and fretted with strange devices, and em- 
 bossed in a thousand fantastic patterns. 
 Through a cleft in the wall the sun shines on 
 this pavement, which gleams in iridescent 
 beauty. 
 
 I pass up into the cleft. It is very nar- 
 row, with a succession of pools standing at 
 higher levels as I go back. The water in 
 these pools is clear and cool, coming down 
 from springs. Then I return to the pave- 
 ment, which is but a terrace or bench, over 
 which the river runs at its flood, but left bare 
 at present. Along the pavement, in many 
 places, are basins of clear water, in strange 
 contrast to the red mud of the river. At 
 length I come to the end of this marble ter- 
 race, and take again to the boat. 
 
 Riding down a short distance, a beautiful 
 view is presented. The river turns sharply 
 to the east, and seems inclosed by a wall, set 
 with a million brilliant gems. What can it 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 189 
 
 mean? Every eye is engaged, every one 
 wonders. On coming nearer, we find foun- 
 tains bm'sting from the rock, high overhead, 
 and the spray in the sunshine forms the 
 gems which bedeck the wall. The rocks be- 
 low the fountain are covered with mosses, 
 and ferns, and many beautiful flowering 
 plants. We name it Vasey's Paradise, in 
 honor of the botanist who traveled with us 
 last year. 
 
 We pass many side canons to-day, that 
 are dark, gloomy passages, back into the 
 heart of the rocks that form the plateau 
 through which this canon is cut. 
 
 It rains again this afternoon. Scarcely 
 do the first drops fall, when little rills run 
 down the walls. As the storm comes on, 
 the little rills increase in size, until great 
 streams are formed. Although the walls of 
 the canon are chiefly limestone, the adjacent 
 country is of red sandstone ; and now the wa- 
 ters, loaded with these sands, come down in 
 rivers of bright red mud, leaping over the 
 
190 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 walls in innumerable cascades. It is plain 
 now how these walls are polished in many 
 places. 
 
 At last, the storm ceases, and we go on. 
 We have cut through the sandstones and 
 limestones met in the upper part of the 
 canon, and through one great bed of marble 
 a thousand feet in thickness. In this, great 
 numbers of caves are hollowed out, and carv- 
 ings are seen, which suggest architectural 
 forms, though on a scale so grand that archi- 
 tectural terms belittle them. As this great 
 bed forms a distinctive feature of the canon, 
 we call it Marble Canon. 
 
 It is a peculiar feature of these walls, that 
 many projections are set out into the river, 
 as if the wall was buttressed for support. 
 The walls themselves are half a mile high, 
 and these buttresses are on a corresponding 
 scale, jutting into the river scores of feet. 
 In the recesses between these projections 
 there are quiet bays, except at the foot of a 
 rapid, when they are dancing eddies or whirl- 
 pools. Sometimes these alcoves have caves 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 191 
 
 at the back, giving them the appearance of 
 great depth. Then other caves are seen 
 above, forming vast, dome shaped chambers. 
 The walls, and buttresses, and chambers are 
 all of marble. 
 
 The river is now quiet; the canon wider. 
 Above, when the river is at its flood, the wa- 
 ters gorge up, so that the difference between 
 high and low water mark is often fifty or 
 even seventy feet ; but here, high-water mark 
 is not more than twenty feet above the pres- 
 ent stage of the river. Sometimes there is 
 a narrow flood plain between the water and 
 the wall. 
 
 Here we first discover mesquite shrubs, 
 or small trees, with finely divided leaves and 
 pods, somewhat like the locust. 
 
 August 10. — ^Walls still higher; water, 
 swift again. We pass several broad, ragged 
 canons on our right, and up through these we 
 catch glimpses of a forest clad plateau, miles 
 away to the west. 
 
 At two o'clock, we reach the mouth of the 
 Colorado Chiquito. This stream enters 
 
192 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 through a canon, on a scale quite as grand 
 as that of the Colorado itself. It is a very 
 small river, and exceedingly muddy and salt. 
 I walk up the stream three or four miles, 
 this afternoon, crossing and recrossing vrhere 
 I can easily wade it. Then I climb several 
 hundred feet at one place, and can see up the 
 chasm, through which the river runs, for sev- 
 eral miles. On my way back, I kill two rat- 
 tlesnakes, and find, on my arrival, that an- 
 other has been killed just at camp. 
 
 August 11. — We remain at this point to- 
 day for the purpose of determining the lati- 
 tude and longitude, measuring the height of 
 the walls, drying our rations, and repairing 
 our boats. 
 
 Captain Powell, early in the morning, 
 takes a barometer, and goes out to climb a 
 point between the two rivers. 
 
 I walk down the gorge to the left at the 
 foot of the cliif, climb to a bench, and dis- 
 cover a trail, deeply worn in the rock. 
 Where it crosses the side gulches, in some 
 places, steps have been cut. I can see no 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 193 
 
 evidence of its having been traveled for a 
 long time. It was doubtless a path used by 
 the people who inhabited this country an- 
 terior to the present Indian races — the peo- 
 ple who built the communal houses, of which 
 mention has been made. 
 
 I return to camp about three o'clock, and 
 find that some of the men have discovered 
 ruins, and many fragments of pottery ; also, 
 etchings and hieroglyphics on the rocks. 
 
 We find, to-night, on comparing the read- 
 ings of the barometers, that the walls are 
 about three thousand feet high — more than 
 half a mile — an altitude difficult to appre- 
 ciate from a mere statement of feet. The 
 ascent is made, not by a slope such as is usu- 
 ally found in climbing a mountain, but is 
 much more abrupt — often vertical for many 
 hundreds of feet — so that the impression is 
 that we are at great depths; and we look up 
 to see but a little patch of sky. 
 
 Between the two streams, above the Colo- 
 rado Chiquito, in some places the rocks are 
 broken and shelving for six or seven hundred 
 
194 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 feet; then there is a sloping terrace, which 
 can only be climbed by finding some way up 
 a gulch; then, another terrace, and back, still 
 another cliff. The summit of the cliff is 
 three thousand feet above the river, as our 
 barometers attest. 
 
 Our camp is below the Colorado Chiquito, 
 and on the eastern side of the canon. 
 
 'August 12. — The rocks above camp are 
 rust colored sandstones and conglomerates. 
 Some are very hard; others quite soft. 
 These all lie nearly horizontal, and the beds 
 of softer material have been washed out, and 
 left the harder, thus forming a series of 
 shelves. Long lines of these are seen, of 
 varying thickness, from one or two to twenty 
 or thirty feet, and the spaces between have 
 the same variability. This morning, I spend 
 two or three hours in climbing among these 
 shelves, and then I pass above them, and go 
 up a long slope, to the foot of the cliff, and 
 try to discover some way by which I can 
 reach the top of the wall; but I find my 
 progress cut off by an amphitheater. Then, 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 195 
 
 I wander away around to the left, up a little 
 gulch, and along benches, and climb, from 
 time to time, until I reach an altitude of 
 nearly two thousand feet, and can get no 
 higher. From this point, I can look off to 
 the west, up side canons of the Colorado, 
 and see the edge of a great plateau, from 
 which streams run down into the Colorado, 
 and deep gulches, in the escarpment which 
 faces us, continued by canons, ragged and 
 flaring, and set with cliffs and towering 
 crags, down to the river. I can see far up 
 Marble Canon, to long lines of chocolate col* 
 ored cliffs, and above these, the Vermilion 
 Cliffs. I can see, also, up the Colorado Chi- 
 quito, through a very ragged and broken 
 canon, with sharp salients set out from the 
 walls on either side, their points overlap- 
 ping, so that a huge tooth of marble, on one 
 side, seems to be set between two teeth on 
 the opposite; and I can also get glimpses of 
 walls, standing away back from the river, 
 while over my head are mural escarpments, 
 not possible to be scaled. 
 
196 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Cataract Canon is forty-one miles long. 
 The walls are 1,300 feet high at its head, 
 and they gradually increase in altitude to a 
 point about half-way down, where they are 
 2,700 feet, and then decrease to 1,300 feet at 
 the foot. Narrow Canon is nine and a half 
 miles long, with walls 1,300 feet in height at 
 the head, and coming down to the water at 
 the foot. 
 
 There is very little vegetation in this 
 canon, or in the adjacent country. Just at 
 the junction of the Grand and Green, there 
 are a number of hackberry trees ; and along 
 the entire length of Cataract Canon, the 
 high-water line is marked by scattered trees 
 of the same species. A few nut-pines and 
 cedars are found, and occasionally a red-bud 
 or judas tree; but the general aspect of the 
 canons, and of the adjacent country, is that 
 of naked rock. 
 
 The distance through Glen Canon is 149 
 miles. Its walls vary from two or three hun- 
 dred to sixteen hundred feet. Marble 
 
GRAND TO LITTLE COLORADO 197 
 
 Canon is 65y2 miles long. At its head, it is 
 200 feet deep, and steadily increases in depth 
 to its foot, where its walls are 3,500 feet 
 high. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE GRAND CANYON OF THE COLOEADO 
 
 AUGUST 13.— We are now ready 
 to start on our way down the 
 Great Unknown. Our boats, tied 
 to a common stake, are chafing each other, 
 as they are tossed by the fretful river. 
 They ride high and buoyant, for their loads 
 are lighter than we could desire. We have 
 but a month's rations remaining. The flour 
 has been resifted through the mosquito net 
 sieve; the spoiled bacon has been dried, and 
 the worst of it boiled; the few pounds of 
 dried apples have been spread in the sun, and 
 reshrunken to their normal bulk; the sugar 
 has all melted, and gone on its way down the 
 river; but we have a large sack of coffee. 
 The Ughting of the boats has this advantage : 
 they will ride the waves better, and we shall 
 
 198 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 199 
 
 have but little to earrjr when we make a por- 
 tage. 
 
 We are three-quarters of a mile in the 
 depths of the earth, and the great river 
 shrinks into insignificance, as it dashes its 
 angry waves against the walls and cliffs, that 
 rise to the world above; they are but puny 
 ripples, and we but pigmies, running up and 
 down the sands, or lost among the boulders. 
 
 We have an imknown distance yet to run; 
 an unknown river yet to explore. What 
 falls there are, we know not ; what rocks be- 
 set the channel, we know not; what walls rise 
 over the river, we know not. Ah, well! we 
 may conjecture many things. The men talk 
 as cheerfully as ever; jests are bandied about 
 freely this morning; but to me the cheer is 
 somber and the jests are ghastly. 
 
 With some eagerness, and some anxiety, 
 and some misgiving, we enter the canon be- 
 low, and are carried along by the swift water 
 through walls which rise from its very edge. 
 They have the same structure as we noticed 
 yesterday — tiers of irregular shelves below. 
 
J200 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 and, above these, steep slopes to the foot of 
 marble cliffs. We run six miles in a little 
 more than half an hour, and emerge into a 
 more open portion of the canon, where high 
 hills and ledges of rock intervene between 
 the river and the distant walls. Just at the 
 head of this open place the river runs across 
 a dike; that is, a fissure in the rocks, open to 
 depths below, has been filled with eruptive 
 matter, and this, on cooling, was harder than 
 the rocks through which the crevice was 
 made, and, when these were washed away, 
 the harder volcanic matter remained as a 
 wall, and the river has cut a gate-way 
 through it several hundred feet high, and as 
 many wide. As it crosses the wall, there is 
 a fall below, and a bad rapid, filled with 
 boulders of trap ; so we stop to make a por- 
 tage. Then on we go, gliding by hills and 
 ledges, with distant walls in view; sweeping 
 past sharp angles of rock ; stopping at a few 
 points to examine rapids, which we find can 
 be run, until we have made another five miles, 
 when we land for dinner. 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO ^01 
 
 Then we let down with lines, over a long 
 rapid, and start again. Once more the walls 
 close in, and we find ourselves in a narrow 
 gorge, the water again fiUing the channel, 
 and very swift. With great care, and con- 
 stant watchfulness, we proceed, making 
 about four miles this afternoon, and camp in 
 a cave. 
 
 August 14. — At daybreak we walk down 
 the bank of the river, on a little sandy beach, 
 to take a view of a new feature in the canon. 
 Heretofore, hard rocks have given us bad 
 river ; soft rocks, smooth water ; and a series 
 of rocks harder than any we have experi- 
 enced sets in. The river enters the gran- 
 ite!* 
 
 We can see but a little way into the gran- 
 ite gorge, but it looks threatening. 
 
 After breakfast we enter on the waves. 
 At the very introduction, it inspires awe. 
 The canon is narrower than we have ever 
 before seen it ; the water is swifter ; there are 
 
 * Geologists would call these rocks metamorphic crystal- 
 line schists, with dikes and beds of granite, but we will use 
 the popular name for the whole series — ^granite. 
 
^2 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON. 
 
 but few broken rocks in the channel; but the 
 walls are set, on either side, with pinnacles 
 and crags; and sharp, angular buttresses, 
 bristling with wind and wave polished spires, 
 extend far out into the river. 
 
 Ledges of rocks jut into the stream, their 
 tops sometimes just below the surface, some- 
 times rising few or many feet above; and 
 island ledges, and island pinnacles, and 
 island towers break the swift course of the 
 stream into chutes, and eddies, and whirl- 
 pools. We soon reach a place where a creek 
 comes in from the left, and just below, the 
 channel is choked with boulders, which have 
 washed down this lateral canon and formed 
 a dam, over which there is a fall of thirty or 
 forty feet; but on the boulders we can get 
 foothold, and we make a portage. 
 
 Three more such dams are found. Over 
 one we make a portage ; at the other two we 
 find chutes, through which we can run. 
 
 As we proceed, the granite rises higher, 
 until nearly a thousand feet of the lower part 
 of the walls are composed of this rock. 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO S03 
 
 About eleven o'clock we hear a great roar 
 ahead, and approach it very cautiously. 
 The sound grows louder and louder as we 
 run, and at last we find ourselves above a 
 long, broken fall, with ledges and pinnacles 
 of rock obstructing the river. There is a 
 descent of, perhaps, seventy-five or eighty 
 feet in a third of a mile, and the rushing 
 waters break into great waves on the 
 rocks, and lash themselves into a mad, 
 white foam. We can land just above, but 
 there is no foot-hold on either side by 
 which we can make a portage. It is nearly 
 a thousand feet to the top of the granite, so 
 it will be impossible to carry our boats 
 around, though we can climb to the summit 
 up a side gulch, and, passing along a mile or 
 two, can descend to the river. This we find 
 on examination; but such a portage would 
 be impracticable for us, and we must run the 
 rapid, or abandon the river. There is no 
 hesitation. We step into our boats, push off 
 and away we go, first on smooth but swift 
 water, then we strike a glassy wave, and ride 
 
204f FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 to its top, down again into the trough, up 
 again on a higher wave, and down and up 
 on waves higher and still higher, until we 
 strike one just as it curls back, and a breaker 
 rolls over our little boat. Still, on we speed, 
 shooting past projecting rocks, till the httle 
 boat is caught in a whirlpool, and spun 
 around several times. At last we pull out 
 again into the stream, and now the other 
 boats have passed us. The open compart- 
 ment of the Emma Dean is filled with water, 
 and every breaker rolls over us. Hurled 
 back from a rock, now on this side, now on 
 that, we are carried into an eddy, in which we 
 struggle for a few minutes, and are then out 
 again, the breakers still rolling over us. Our 
 boat is unmanageable, but she cannot sink, 
 and we drift down another hundred yards, 
 through breakers; how, we scarcely know. 
 We find the other boats have turned into an 
 eddy at the foot of the fall, and are waiting 
 to catch us as we come, for the men have seen 
 that our boat is swamped. They push out 
 as we come near, and pull us in against the 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 205 
 
 wall. We bail our boat, and on we go again. 
 
 The walls, now, are more than a mile in 
 height — a vertical distance difficult to appre- 
 ciate. Stand on the south steps of the 
 Treasury building in Washington, and look 
 down Pennsylvania Avenue to the Capitol 
 Park, and measure this distance overhead, 
 and imagine cliffs to extend to that altitude^ 
 and you will understand what I mean; or, 
 stand at Canal Street, in New York, and 
 look up Broadway to Grace Church, and you 
 have about the distance; or, stand at Lake 
 Street bridge, in Chicago, and look down 
 to the Central Depot, and you have it again. 
 
 A thousand feet of this is up through gran- 
 ite crags, then steep slopes and perpendicu- 
 lar cliffs rise, one above another, to the sum- 
 mit. The gorge is black and narrow below, 
 red and gray and flaring above, with crags 
 and angular projections on the walls, which, 
 cut in many places by side canons, seem to 
 be a vast wilderness of rocks. Down in 
 these grand, gloomy depths we glide, ever 
 listening, for the mad waters keep up their 
 
206 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 roar ; ever watching, ever peering ahead, for 
 the narrow canon is winding, and the river is 
 closed in so that we can see but a few hun- 
 dred yards, and what there may be below we 
 know not; but we hsten for falls, and watch 
 for rocks, or stop now and then, in the bay 
 of a recess, to admire the gigantic scenery. 
 And ever, as we go, there is some new pin- 
 nacle or tower, some crag or peak, some dis- 
 tant view of the upper plateau, some strange 
 shaped rock, or some deep, narrow side 
 canon. Then we come to another broken 
 fall, which appears more difficult than the 
 one we ran this morning. 
 
 A small creek comes in on the right, and 
 the first fall of the water is over boulders, 
 which have been carried down by this lateral 
 stream. We land at its mouth, and stop for 
 an hour or two to examine the fall. It seems 
 possible to let down with lines, at least a 
 part of the way, from point to point, along 
 the right hand wall. So we make a portage 
 over the first rocks, and find footing on some 
 boulders below. Then we let down one of 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 207 
 
 the boats to the end of her line, when she 
 reaches a corner of the projecting rock, to 
 which one of the men clings, and steadies 
 her, while I examine an eddy below. I think 
 we can pass the other boats down by us, and 
 catch them in the eddy. This is soon done 
 and the men in the boats in the eddy pull us 
 to their side. On the shore of this little eddy 
 there is about two feet of gravel beach above 
 the water. Standing on this beach, some of 
 the men take the line of the little boat and 
 let it drift down against another projecting 
 angle. Here is a little shelf, on which a man 
 from my boat climbs, and a shorter line is 
 passed to him, and he fastens the boat to the 
 side of the cliff. Then the second one is let 
 down, bringing the line of the third. When 
 the second boat is tied up, the two men stand- 
 ing on the beach above spring into the last 
 boat, which is pulled up alongside of ours. 
 Then we let down the boats, for twenty-five 
 or thirty yards, by walking along the shelf, 
 landing them again in the mouth of a side 
 canon. Just below this there is another pile 
 
208 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 of boulders, over which we make another 
 portage. From the foot of these rocks we 
 can climb to another shelf, forty or fifty feet 
 above the water. 
 
 On this beach we camp for the night. We 
 find a few sticks, which have lodged in the 
 rocks. It is raining hard, and we have no 
 shelter, but kindle a fire and have our sup- 
 per. We sit on the rocks all night, wrapped 
 in our ponchos, getting what sleep we can. 
 
 August 15. — This morning we find we can 
 let down for three or four hundred yards, 
 and it is managed in this way: We pass 
 along the wall, by climbing from projecting 
 point to point, sometimes near the water's 
 edge, at other places fifty or sixty feet above, 
 and hold the boat with a line, while two men 
 remain aboard, and prevent her from being 
 dashed against the rocks, and keep the line 
 from getting caught on the wall. In two 
 hours we have brought them all down, as far 
 as it is possible, in this way. A few yards 
 below, the river strikes with great violence 
 against a projecting rock, and our boats are 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 209 
 
 pulled up in a little bay above. We must 
 now manage to pull out of this, and clear the 
 point below. The little boat is held by the 
 bow obliquely up the stream. We jump in, 
 and pull out only a few strokes, and sweep 
 clear of the dangerous rock. The other 
 boats follow in the same manner, and the 
 rapid is passed. 
 
 It is not easy to describe the labor of such 
 navigation. We must prevent the waves 
 from dashing the boats against the cliffs. 
 Sometimes, where the river is swift, we must 
 put a bight of rope about a rock, to prevent 
 her being snatched from us by a wave; but 
 where the plunge is too great, or the chute 
 too swift, we must let her leap, and catch her 
 below, or the undertow will drag her under 
 the falhng water, and she sinks. Where we 
 wish to run her out a little way from iShore, 
 through a channel between rocks, we first 
 throw in httle sticks of drift wood, and watch 
 their course, to see where we must steer, so 
 that she will pass the channel in safety. And 
 so we hold, and let go, and pull, and lift, and 
 
210 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 ward, among rocks, around rocks, and over 
 rocks. 
 
 And now we go on through this solemn, 
 mysterious way. The river is very deep, the 
 canon very narrow, and still obstructed, so 
 that there is no steady flow of the stream; 
 but the waters wheel, and roll, and boil, and 
 we are scarcely able to determine where we 
 can go. Now, the boat is carried to the 
 right, perhaps close to the wall; again, she 
 is shot into the stream, and perhaps is 
 dragged over to the other side, where, caught 
 in a whirlpool, she spins about. We can 
 neither land nor run as we please. The 
 boats are entirely unmanageable; no order 
 in their running can be preserved ; now one, 
 now another, is ahead, each crew laboring for 
 its own preservation. In such a place we 
 come to another rapid. Two of the boats 
 rim it perforce. One succeeds in landing, 
 but there is no foot-hold by which to make 
 a portage, and she is pushed out again into 
 the stream. The next minute a great reflex 
 wave fills the open compartment; she is 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO ^11 
 
 water-logged, and drifts unmanageable. 
 Breaker after breaker rolls over her, and one 
 capsizes her. The men are thrown out; but 
 they cling to the boat, and she drifts down 
 some distance, alongside of us, and we are 
 able to catch her. She is soon bailed out, 
 and the men are aboard once more; but the 
 oars are lost, so a pair from the Emma Dean 
 is spared. Then for two miles we find 
 smooth water. 
 
 Clouds are playing in the canon to-day. 
 Sometimes they roll down in great masses, 
 filling the gorge with gloom; sometimes they 
 hang above, from wall to wall, and cover the 
 canon with a roof of impending storm; and 
 we can peer long distances up and down this 
 canon corridor, with its cloud roof overhead, 
 its walls of black granite, and its river bright 
 with the sheen of broken waters. Then, a 
 gust of wind sweeps down a side gulch, and, 
 making a rift in the clouds, reveals the blue 
 heavens, and a stream of sunlight pours in. 
 Then, the clouds drift away into the dis- 
 tance, and hang around crags, and peaks. 
 
S12 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 and pinnacles, and towers, and walls, and 
 cover them with a mantle, that lifts from 
 time to time, and sets them all in sharp re- 
 lief. Then, baby clouds creep out of side 
 canons, glide around points, and creep back 
 again, into more distant gorges. Then, 
 clouds, set in strata, across the canon, with 
 intervening vista views, to cliffs and rocks 
 beyond. The clouds are children of the 
 heavens, and when they play among the 
 rocks, they lift them to the region above. 
 
 It rains! Rapidly little rills are formed 
 above, and these soon grow into brooks, and 
 the brooks grow into creeks, and timible over 
 the walls in innumerable cascades, adding 
 their wild music to the roar of the river. 
 When the rain ceases, the rills, brooks, and 
 creeks run dry. The waters that fall, dur- 
 ing a rain, on these steep rocks, are gathered 
 at once into the river; they could scarcely be 
 poured in more suddenly, if some vast spout 
 ran from the clouds to the stream itself. 
 When a storm bursts over the canon, a side 
 gulch is dangerous, for a sudden flood may 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO £13 
 
 come, and the inpouring waters will raise the 
 river, so as to hide the rocks before your 
 eyes. 
 
 Early in the afternoon, we discover a 
 stream, entering from the north, a clear, 
 beautiful creek, coming down through a gor- 
 geous red canon. We land, and camp on 
 a sand beach, above its mouth, under a great, 
 overspreading tree, with willow shaped 
 leaves. 
 
 August 16. — ^We must dry our rations 
 again to-day, and make oars. 
 
 The Colorado is never a clear stream, but 
 for the past three or four days it has been 
 raining much of the time, and the floods, 
 which are poured over the walls, have 
 brought down great quantities of mud, mak- 
 ing it exceedingly turbid now. The little 
 affluent, which we have discovered here, is a 
 clear, beautiful creek, or river, as it would 
 be termed in this western country, where 
 streams are not abundant. We have named 
 one stream, away above, in honor of the 
 great chief of the "Bad Angels," and, as this 
 
^U FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 is in beautiful contrast to tHat, we conclude 
 to name it "Bright Angel." 
 
 Early in the morning, the whole party 
 starts up to explore the Bright Angel River, 
 with the special purpose of seeking timber, 
 from which to make oars. A couple of 
 miles above, we find a large pine log, which 
 has been floated down from the plateau, 
 probably from an altitude of more than six 
 thousand feet, but not many miles back. On 
 its way, it must have passed over many cata- 
 racts and falls, for it bears scars in evidence 
 of the rough usage which it has received. 
 The men roll it on skids, and the work of 
 sawing oars is commenced. 
 
 This stream heads away back, under a line 
 of abrupt cliffs, that terminates the plateau, 
 and tumbles down more than four thousand 
 feet in the first mile or two of its course ; then 
 runs through a deep, narrow canon, until it 
 reaches the river. 
 
 Late in the afternoon I return, and go up 
 a little gulch, just above this creek, about 
 two hundred yards from camp, and discover 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 215 
 
 the ruins of two or three old houses, which 
 were originally of stone, laid in mortar. 
 Only the foundations are left, but irregular 
 blocks, of which the houses were constructed, 
 lie scattered about. In one room I find an 
 old mealing stone, deeply worn, as if it had 
 been much used. A great deal of pottery 
 is strewn around, and old trails, which in 
 some places are deeply worn into the rocks, 
 are seen. 
 
 It is ever a source of wonder to us why 
 these ancient people sought such inaccessible 
 places for their homes. They were, doubt- 
 less, an agricultural race, but there are no 
 lands here, of any considerable extent, that 
 they could have cultivated. To the west of 
 Oraiby, one of the towns in the "Province 
 of Tusayan," in Northern Arizona, the in- 
 habitants have actually built little terraces 
 along the face of the cliff, where a spring 
 gushes out, and thus made their sites for 
 gardens. It is possible that the ancient in- 
 habitants of this place made their agricul- 
 tural lands in the same way. But why should 
 
216 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 they seek such spots? Surely, the country 
 was not so crowded with population as to 
 demand the utilization of so barren a region. 
 The only solution of the problem suggested 
 is this: We know that, for a century or two 
 after the settlement of Mexico, many expe- 
 ditions were sent into the country now com- 
 prised in Arizona and New Mexico, for the 
 purpose of bringing the town building peo- 
 ple under the dominion of the Spanish gov- 
 ernment. Many of their villages were de- 
 stroyed, and the inhabitants fled to regions 
 at that time unknown; and there are tradi- 
 tions, among the people who inhabit the 
 pueblos that still remain, that the canons 
 were these imknown lands. Maybe these 
 buildings were erected at that time; sure it is 
 that they have a much more modern appear- 
 ance than the ruins scattered over Nevada, 
 Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. 
 Those old Spanish conquerors had a mon- 
 strous greed for gold, and a wonderful lust 
 for saving souls. Treasures they must have ; 
 if not on earth, why, then, in heaven; and 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 217 
 
 when they failed to find heathen temples, be- 
 decked with silver, they propitiated Heaven 
 by seizing the heathen themselves. There is 
 yet extant a copy of a record, made by a 
 heathen artist, to express his conception of 
 the demands of the conquerors. In one part 
 of the picture we have a lake, and near by 
 stands a priest pouring water on the head of 
 a native. On the other side, a poor Indian 
 has a cord about his throat. Lines run from 
 these two groups, to a central figure, a man 
 with beard, and full Spanish panoply. The 
 interpretation of the picture writing is this: 
 "Be baptized, as this saved heathen; or be 
 hanged, as that damned heathen." Doubt- 
 less, some of these people preferred a third 
 alternative, and, rather than be baptized or 
 hanged, they chose to be imprisoned within 
 these canon walls. 
 
 August 17. — Our rations are still spoiling; 
 the bacon is so badly injured that we are 
 compelled to throw it away. By an acci- 
 dent, this morning, the saleratus is lost over- 
 board. We have now only musty flour 
 
218 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 sufficient for ten days, a few dried apples, 
 but plenty of coffee. We must make all 
 haste possible. If we meet with difficulties, 
 as we have done in the canon above, we may 
 be compelled to give up the expedition, and 
 try to reach the Mormon settlements to the 
 north. Our hopes are that the worst places 
 are passed, but our barometers are all so 
 much injured as to be useless, so we have 
 lost our reckoning in altitude, and know not 
 how much descent the river has yet to make. 
 
 The stream is still wild and rapid, and 
 rolls through a narrow channel. We make 
 but slow progress, often landing against a 
 wall, and climbing around some point, where 
 we can see the river below. Although very 
 anxious to advance, we are determined to 
 run with great caution, lest, by another acci- 
 dent, we lose all our supplies. How pre- 
 cious that little flour has become! We di- 
 vide it among the boats, and carefully store 
 it away, so that it can be lost only by the loss 
 of the boat itself. 
 
 We make ten miles and a half, and camp 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 219 
 
 among the rocks, on the right. We have 
 had rain, from time to time, all day, and 
 have been thoroughly drenched and chilled; 
 but between showers the sun shines with 
 great power, and the mercury in our ther- 
 mometers stands at 115°, so that we have 
 rapid changes from great extremes, which 
 are very disagreeable. It is especially cold 
 in the rain to-night. The little canvas we 
 have is rotten and useless; the rubber pon- 
 chos, with which we started from Green 
 River City, have all been lost ; more than half 
 the party is without hats, and not one of us 
 has an entire suit of clothes, and we have 
 not a blanket apiece. So we gather drift 
 wood, and build a fire; but after supper the 
 rain, coming down in torrents, extinguishes 
 it, and we sit up all night, on the rocks, shiv- 
 ering, and are more exhausted by the night's 
 discomfort than by the day's toil. 
 
 August 18. — The day is employed in mak- 
 ing portages, and we advance but two miles 
 on our journey. Still it rains. 
 
 While the men are at work making por- 
 
220 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 tages, I climb up the granite to its summit, 
 and go away back over the rust colored sand- 
 stones and greenish yellow shales, to the foot 
 of the marble wall. I cKmb so high that the 
 men and boats are lost in the black depths 
 below, and the dashing river is a rippling 
 brook; and still there is more canon above 
 than below. All about me are interesting 
 geological records. The book is open, and 
 I can read as I run. All about me are grand 
 views, for the clouds are playing again in 
 the gorges. But somehow I think of the 
 nine days' rations, and the bad river, and the 
 lesson of the rocks, and the glory of the scene 
 is but half seen. 
 
 I push on to an angle, where I hope to get 
 a view of the country beyond, to see, if pos- 
 sible, what the prospect may be of our soon 
 running through this plateau, or, at least, of 
 meeting with some geological change that 
 will let us out of the granite; but, arriving 
 at the point, I can see below only a labyrinth 
 of deep gorges. 
 
 August 19. — ^Rain again this morning. 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 221 
 
 Still we are in our granite prison, and the 
 time is occupied until noon in making a long, 
 bad portage. 
 
 After dinner, in running a rapid, the 
 pioneer boat is upset by a wave. We are 
 some distance in advance of the larger boats, 
 the river is rough and swift, and we are un- 
 able to land, but cling to the boat, and are 
 carried down stream, over another rapid. 
 The men in the boats above see our trouble, 
 but they are caught in whirlpools, and are 
 spinning about in eddies, and it seems a long 
 time before they come to our relief. At last 
 they do come; our boat is turned right side 
 up, bailed out; the oars, which fortunately 
 have floated along in company with us, are 
 gathered up, and on we go, without even 
 landing. 
 
 Soon after the accident the clouds break 
 away, and we have sunshine again. 
 
 Soon we find a little beach, with just room 
 enough to land. Here we camp, but there 
 is no wood. Across the river, and a little 
 way above, we see some drift wood lodged 
 
£22 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 in the rocks. So we bring two boat loads 
 over, build a huge fire, and spread everything 
 to dry. It is the first cheerful night we have 
 had for a week; a warm, drying fire in the 
 midst of the camp, and a few bright stars in 
 our patch of heavens overhead. 
 
 August 20. — The characteristics of the 
 canon change this morning. The river is 
 broader, the walls more sloping, and com- 
 posed of black slates, that stand on edge. 
 These nearly vertical slates are washed out 
 in places — that is, the softer beds are washed 
 out between the harder, which are left stand- 
 ing. In this way, curious little alcoves are 
 formed, in which are quiet bays of water, 
 but on a much smaller scale than the great 
 bays and buttresses of Marble Canon. 
 
 The river is still rapid, and we stop to let 
 down with lines several times, but make 
 greater progress as we run ten miles. We 
 camp on the right bank. Here, on a ter- 
 race of trap, we discover another group of 
 ruins. There was evidently quite a village 
 on this rock. Again we find mealing stones. 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 223 
 
 and much broken pottery, and up in a little 
 natural shelf in the rock, back of the ruins, 
 we find a globular basket, that would hold 
 perhaps a third of a bushel. It is badly 
 broken, and, as I attempt to take it up, it 
 falls to pieces. There are many beautiful 
 flint chips, as if tliis had been the home of 
 an old arrow maker. 
 
 August 21. — We start early this morning, 
 cheered by the prospect of a fine day, and 
 encouraged, also, by the good run made yes- 
 terday. A quarter of a mile below camp 
 the river turns abruptly to the left, and be- 
 tween camp and that point is very swift, run- 
 ning down in a long, broken chute, and piling 
 up against the foot of the cliff, where it turns 
 to the left. We try to pull across, so as to 
 go down on the other side, but the waters are 
 swift, and it seems impossible for us to es- 
 cape the rock below; but, in pulhng across, 
 the bow of the boat is turned to the farther 
 shore, so that we are swept broadside down, 
 and are prevented, by the rebounding waters, 
 from striking against the wall. There we 
 
^M FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 toss about for a few seconds in these billows, 
 and are carried past the danger. Below, the 
 river turns again to the right, the canon is 
 very narrow, and we see in advance but a 
 short distance. The water, too, is very 
 swift, and there is no landing place. From 
 around this curve there comes a mad roar, 
 and down we are carried, with a dizzying 
 velocity, to the head of another rapid. On 
 either side, high over our heads, there are 
 overhanging granite walls, and the sharp 
 bends cut off our view, so that a few minutes 
 will carry us into unknown waters. Away 
 we go, on one long, winding chute. I stand 
 on deck, supporting myself with a strap, fas- 
 tened on either side to the gunwale, and the 
 boat glides rapidly, where the water is 
 smooth, or, striking a wave, she leaps and 
 bounds like a thing of life, and we have a 
 wild, exhilarating ride for ten miles, which 
 we make in less than an hour. The excite- 
 ment is so great that we forget the danger, 
 until we hear the roar of the great fall be- 
 low; then we back on our oars, and are car- 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO ns 
 
 ried slowly toward its head, and succeed in 
 landing just above, and find that we have to 
 make another portage. At this we are en- 
 gaged until some time after dinner. 
 
 Just here we run out of the granite ! 
 
 Ten miles in less than half a day, and lime- 
 stone walls below. Good cheer returns; we 
 forget the storms, and the gloom, and cloud 
 covered canons, and the black granite, and 
 the raging river, and push our boats from 
 shore in great glee. 
 
 Though we are out of the granite, the river 
 is still swift, and we wheel about a point 
 again to the right, and turn, so as to head 
 back in the direction from which we came, 
 and see the granite again, with its narrow 
 gorge and black crags; but we meet with 
 no more great falls, or rapids. Still, we run 
 cautiously, and stop, from time to time, to 
 examine some places which look bad. Yet, 
 we make ten miles this afternoon; twenty 
 miles, in all, to-day. 
 
 August 22. — ^We come to rapids again, 
 this morning, and are occupied several hours 
 
2S6 FIRST THROUGH GtRAND CANYON 
 
 in passing them, letting the boats down, from 
 rock to rock, with hnes, for nearly half a 
 mile, and then have to make a long portage. 
 While the men are engaged in this, I climb 
 the wall on the northeast, to a height of about 
 two thousand five hundred feet, where I can 
 obtain a good view of a long stretch of canon 
 below. Its course is to the southwest. The 
 walls seem to rise very abruptly, for two 
 thousand five hundred or three thousand feet, 
 and then there is a gently sloping terrace, 
 on each side, for two or three miles, and again 
 we find cUflfs, one thousand five hundred or 
 two thousand feet high. From the brink of 
 these the plateau stretches back to the north 
 and south, for a long distance. Away down 
 the canon, on the right wall, I can see a 
 group of mountains, some of which appear 
 to stand on the brink of the canon. The ef- 
 fect of the terrace is to give the appearance 
 of a narrow winding valley, with high walls 
 on either side, and a deep, dark, meandering 
 gorge down its middle. It is impossible, 
 from this point of view, to determine whether 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO nl 
 
 we have granite at the bottom, or not; but, 
 from geological considerations, I conclude 
 that we shall have marble walls below. 
 
 After my return to the boats, we run an- 
 other mile, and camp for the night. 
 
 We have made but little over seven miles 
 to-day, and a part of our flour has been 
 soaked in the river again. 
 
 August 23. — Our way to-day is again 
 through marble walls. Now and then we 
 pass, for a short distance, through patches 
 of granite, like hills thrust up into the lime- 
 stone. At one of these places we have to 
 make another portage, and, taking advan- 
 tage of the delay, I go up a little stream, to 
 the north, wading it all the way, sometimes 
 having to plunge in to my neck; in other 
 places being compelled to swim across little 
 basins that have been excavated at the foot 
 of the falls. Along its course are many cas- 
 cades and springs gushing out from the rocks 
 on either side. Sometimes a cottonwood 
 tree grows over the water. I come to one 
 beautiful fall, of more than a hundred and 
 
228 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 fifty feet, and climb around it to the right, 
 on the broken rocks. Still going up, I find 
 the canon narrowing very much, being but 
 fifteen or twenty feet wide; yet the walls 
 rise on either side many hundreds of feet, 
 perhaps thousands ; I can hardly tell. 
 
 In some places the stream has not exca- 
 vated its channel down vertically through the 
 rocks, but has cut obliquely, so that one wall 
 overhangs the other. In other places it is 
 cut vertically above and obliquely below, or 
 obliquely above and vertically below, so that 
 it is impossible to see out overhead. But I 
 can go no farther. The time which I esti- 
 mated it would take to make the portage has 
 almost expired, and I start back on a round 
 trot, wading in the creek where I must, and 
 plunging through basins, and find the men 
 waiting for me, and away we go on the river. 
 
 Just after dinner we pass a stream on the 
 right, which leaps into the Colorado by a di- 
 rect fall of more than a hundred feet, form- 
 ing a beautiful cascade. There is a bed of 
 very hard rock above, thirty or forty feet in 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 229 
 
 thickness, and much softer beds below. The 
 hard beds above project many yards beyond 
 the softer, which are washed out, forming a 
 deep cave behind the fall, and the stream 
 pours through a narrow crevice above into 
 a deep pool below. Around on the rocks, 
 in the cave like chamber, are set beautiful 
 ferns, with delicate fronds and enameled 
 stalks. The little frondlets have their points 
 turned down, to form spore cases. It has 
 very much the appearance of the Maiden's 
 hair fern, but is much larger. This delicate 
 foliage covers the rocks all about the foun- 
 tain, and gives the chamber great beauty. 
 But we have little time to spend in admira- 
 tion, so on we go. 
 
 We make fine progress this afternoon, 
 carried along by a swift river, and shoot 
 over the rapids, finding no serious obstruc- 
 tions. 
 
 The canon walls, for two thousand five 
 hundi^ed or three thousand feet, are very reg- 
 ular, rising almost perpendicularly, but here 
 and there set with narrow steps, and occa- 
 
230 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 sionally we can see away above the broad ter- 
 race, to distant cliffs. 
 
 We camp to-night in a marble cave, and 
 find, on looking at our reckoning, we have 
 rim twenty-two miles. 
 
 August 24. — The canon is wider to-day. 
 The walls rise to a vertical height of nearly 
 three thousand feet. In many places the 
 river runs under a cliff, in great curves, form- 
 ing amphitheaters, half dome shaped. 
 
 Though the river is rapid, we meet with 
 no serious obstructions, and run twenty 
 miles. It is curious how anxious we are to 
 make up our reckoning every time we stop, 
 now that our diet is confined to plenty of 
 coffee, very little spoiled flour, and very few 
 dried apples. It has come to be a race for 
 a dinner. Still, we make such fine progress, 
 all hands are in good cheer, but not a mo- 
 ment of daylight is lost. 
 
 August 25. — ^We make twelve miles this 
 morning, when we come to monuments of 
 lava, standing in the river; low rocks, mostly, 
 but some of them shafts more than a hundred 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 231 
 
 feet high. Going on down, three or four 
 miles, we find them increasing in number. 
 Great quantities of cooled lava and many 
 cinder cones are seen on either side ; and then 
 we come to an abrupt cataract. Just over 
 the fall, on the right wall, a cinder cone, or 
 extinct volcano, with a well defined crater, 
 stands on the very brink of the canon. This, 
 doubtless, is the one we saw two or three 
 days ago. From this volcano vast floods of 
 lava have been poured down into the river, 
 and a stream of the molten rock has run up 
 the canon, three or four miles, and down, we 
 know not how far. Just where it poured 
 over the canon wall is the fall. The whole 
 north side, as far as we can see, is lined with 
 the black basalt, and high up on the oppo- 
 site wall are patches of the same material, 
 resting on the benches, and filling old al- 
 coves and caves, giving to the wall a spotted 
 appearance. 
 
 The rocks are broken in two, along a line 
 which here crosses the river, and the beds, 
 which we have seen coming down the canon 
 
232 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 for the last thirty miles, have dropped 800 
 feet, on the lower side of the line, forming 
 what geologists call a fault. The volcanic 
 cone stands directly over the fissure thus 
 formed. On the side of the river opposite, 
 mammoth springs burst out of this crevice, 
 one or two hundred feet above the river, 
 pouring in a stream quite equal in volume to 
 the Colorado Chiquito. 
 
 This stream seems to be loaded with car- 
 bonate of lime, and the water, evaporating, 
 leaves an incrustation on the rocks ; and this 
 process has been continued for a long time, 
 for extensive deposits are noticed, in which 
 are basins, with bubbling springs. The wa- 
 ter is salty. 
 
 We have to make a portage here, which is 
 completed in about three hours, and on we 
 go. 
 
 We have no difiiculty as we float along, 
 and I am able to observe the wonderful phe- 
 nomena connected with this flood of lava. 
 The canon was doubtless filled to a height 
 of twelve or fifteen hundred feet, perhaps 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 233 
 
 by more than one flood. This would dam 
 the water back; and in cutting through this 
 great lava bed, a new channel has been 
 formed, sometimes on one side, sometimes 
 on the other. The cooled lava, being of 
 firmer texture than the rocks of which the 
 walls are composed, remains in some places; 
 in others a narrow channel has been cut, leav- 
 ing a line of basalt on either side. It is pos- 
 sible that the lava cooled faster on the sides 
 against the walls, and that the center ran 
 out; but of this we can only conjecture. 
 There are other places, where almost the 
 whole of the lava is gone, patches of it only 
 being seen where it has caught on the walls. 
 As we float down, we can see that it ran out 
 into side canons. In some places this basalt 
 has a fine, columnar structure, often in con- 
 centric prisms, and masses of these concen- 
 tric columns have coalesced. In some places, 
 when the flow occurred, the canon was prob- 
 ably at about the same depth as it is now, 
 for we can see where the basalt has rolled out 
 on the sands, and, what seems curious to me, 
 
234 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the sands are not melted or metamorphosed 
 to any appreciable extent. In places the 
 bed of the river is of sandstone or limestone, 
 in other places of lava, showing that it has 
 all been cut out again where the sandstones 
 and limestones appear; but there is a little 
 yet left where the bed is of lava. 
 
 What a conflict of water and fire there 
 must have been here ! Just imagine a river 
 of molten rock, running down into a river of 
 melted snow. What a seething and boiling 
 of the waters; what clouds of steam rolled 
 into the heavens! 
 
 Thirty-five miles to-day. Hurrah! 
 
 August 26. — The canon walls are steadily 
 becoming higher as we advance. They are 
 still bold, and nearly vertical up to the ter- 
 race. We still see evidence of the eruption 
 discovered yesterday, but the thickness of the 
 basalt is decreasing, as we go down the 
 stream; yet it has been reinforced at points 
 by streams that have come down from vol- 
 canoes standing on the terrace above, but 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO ^35 
 
 which we cannot see from the river below. 
 Since we left the Colorado Chiquito, we 
 have seen no evidences that the tribe of In- 
 dians inhabiting the plateaus on either side 
 ever come down to the river; but about 
 eleven o'clock to-day we discover an Indian 
 garden, at the foot of the wall on the right, 
 just where a httle stream, with a narrow 
 flood plain, comes down through a side canon. 
 Along the valley, the Indians have planted 
 corn, using the water which burst out in 
 springs at the foot of the cliff, for irrigation. 
 The corn is looking quite well, but is not suf- 
 ficiently advanced to give us roasting ears; 
 but there are some nice, green squashes. We 
 carry ten or a dozen of these on board our 
 boats, and hurriedly leave, not willing to be 
 caught in the robbery, yet excusing ourselves 
 by pleading our great want. We run down 
 a short distance, to where we feel certain no 
 Indians can follow; and what a kettle of 
 squash sauce we make! True, we have no 
 salt with which to season it, but it makes a 
 
236 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 fine addition to our unleavened bread and 
 coffee. Never vras fruit so sweet as these 
 stolen squashes. 
 
 After dinner we push on again, making 
 fine time, finding many rapids, but none so 
 bad that we cannot run them with safety, 
 and when we stop, just at dusk, and foot up 
 our reckoning, we find we have run thirty- 
 five miles again. 
 
 What a supper we make; unleavened 
 bread, green squash sauce, and strong cof- 
 fee. We have been for a few days on half 
 rations, but we have no stint of roast squash. 
 
 A few days like this, and we shall be out 
 of prison. 
 
 August 27. — This morning the river takes 
 a more southerly direction. The dip of the 
 rocks is to the north, and we are rapidly run- 
 ning into lower formations. Unless our 
 course changes, we shall very soon run again 
 into the granite. This gives us some anx- 
 iety. Now and then the river turns to the 
 west, and excites hopes that are soon de- 
 stroyed by another turn to the south. About 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 237 
 
 nine o'clock we come to the dreaded rock. 
 It is with no little misgiving that we see the 
 river enter these black, hard walls. At its 
 very entrance we have to make a portage; 
 then we have to let down with lines past some 
 ugly rocks. Then we run a mile or two 
 farther, and then the rapids below can be 
 seen. 
 
 About eleven o'clock we come to a place 
 in the river where it seems much worse than 
 any we have yet met in all its course. A lit- 
 tle creek comes down from the left. We 
 land first on the right, and clamber up over 
 the granite pinnacles for a mile or two, but 
 can see no way by which we can let down, 
 and to run it would be sure destruction. 
 After dinner we cross to examine it on the 
 left. High above the river we can walk along 
 on the top of the granite, which is broken off 
 at the edge, and set with crags and pinnacles, 
 so that it is very difficult to get a view of the 
 river at all. In my eagerness to reach a 
 point where I can see the roaring fall below, 
 I go too far on the wall, and can neither ad- 
 
^SS FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 vance nor retreat. I stand with one foot on 
 a little projecting rock, and cling with my 
 hand fixed in a little crevice. Finding I am 
 caught here, suspended 400 feet above the 
 river, into which I should fall if my footing 
 fails, I call for help. The men come, and 
 pass me a line, but I cannot let go of the 
 rock long enough to take hold of it.* Then 
 they bring two or three of the largest oars. 
 All this takes time which seems very precious 
 to me; but at last they arrive. The blade of 
 one of the oars is pushed into a little crevice 
 in the rock beyond me, in such a manner that 
 they can hold me pressed against the wall. 
 Then another is fixed in such a way that I 
 can step on it, and thus I am extricated. 
 
 Still another hour is spent in examining 
 the river from this side, but no good view of 
 it is obtained, so now we return to the side 
 that was first examined, and the afternoon is 
 spent in clambering among the crags and 
 pinnacles, and carefully scanning the river 
 
 * It should be remembered that Major Powell had only 
 one arm. {Ed.) 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 239 
 
 again. We find that the lateral streams 
 have washed boulders into the river, so as to 
 form a dam, over which the water makes a 
 broken fall of eighteen or twenty feet; then 
 there is a rapid, beset with rocks, for two or 
 three hmidred yards, while, on the other side, 
 points of the wall project into the river. 
 Then there is a second fall below; how great, 
 we cannot tell. Then there is a rapid, filled 
 with huge rocks, for one or two hundred 
 yards. At the bottom of it, from the right 
 wall, a great rock projects quite half way 
 across the river. It has a sloping surface 
 extending up stream, and the water, coming 
 down with all the momentum gained in the 
 falls and rapids above, rolls up this inclined 
 plane many feet, and tumbles over to the left. 
 I decide that it is possible to let down over 
 the first fall, then run near the right cliff to 
 a point just above the second, where we can 
 pull out into a little chute, and, having run 
 over that in safety, we must pull with all our 
 power across the stream, to avoid the great 
 rock below. On my return to the boat, I 
 
^40 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 announce to the men that we are to run it 
 in the morning. Then we cross the river, 
 and go into camp for the night on some 
 rocks, in the mouth of the little canon. 
 
 After supper Captain Howland asks to 
 have a talk with me. We walk up the little 
 creek a short distance, and I soon find that 
 his object is to remonstrate against my de- 
 termination to proceed. He thinks that we 
 had better abandon the river here. Talking 
 with him, I learn that his brother, William 
 Dunn, and himself have determined to go 
 no farther in the boats. So we return to 
 camp. Nothing is said to the other men. 
 
 For the last two days, our course has not 
 been plotted. I sit down and do this now, 
 for the purpose of finding where we are by 
 dead reckoning. It is a clear night, and I 
 take out the sextant to make observation for 
 latitude, and find that the astronomic de- 
 termination agrees very nearly with that of 
 the plot — quite as closely as might be ex- 
 pected, from a meridian observation on a 
 planet. In a direct line, we must be about 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO Ml 
 
 forty-five miles from the mouth of the Rio 
 Virgen. If we can reach that point, we 
 know that there are settlements up that river 
 about twenty miles. This forty-five miles, 
 in a direct line, will probably be eighty or 
 ninety in the meandering line of the river. 
 But then we know that there is compara- 
 tively open country for many miles above 
 the mouth of the Virgen, which is our point 
 of destination. 
 
 As soon as I determine all this, I spread 
 my plot on the sand, and wake Rowland, 
 who is sleeping down by the river, and show 
 him where I suppose we are, and where sev- 
 eral Mormon settlements are situated. 
 
 We have another short talk about the mor- 
 row, and he lies down again ; but for me there 
 is no sleep. All night long, I pace up and 
 down a little path, on a few yards of sand 
 beach, along by the river. Is it wise to go 
 on? I go to the boats again, to look at our 
 rations. I feel satisfied that we can get over 
 the danger immediately before us; what 
 there may be below I know not. From our 
 
242 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 outlook yesterday, on the cliffs, the canon 
 seemed to make another great bend to the 
 south, and this, from our experience hereto- 
 fore, means more and higher granite walls. 
 I am not sure that we can climb out of the 
 canon here, and, when at the top of the wall, 
 I know enough of the country to be certain 
 that it is a desert of rock and sand, between 
 this and the nearest Mormon town, which, on 
 the most direct line, must be seventy-five 
 miles away. True, the late rains have been 
 favorable to us, should we go out, for the 
 probabihties are that we shall find water still 
 standing in holes, and, at one time, I almost 
 conclude to leave the river. But for years I 
 have been contemplating this trip. To leave 
 the exploration unfinished, to say that there 
 is a part of the canon which I cannot explore, 
 having already almost accomplished it, is 
 more than I am willing to acknowledge, and 
 I determine to go on. 
 
 I wake my brother, and tell him of How- 
 land's determination, and he promises to 
 stay with me; then I call up Hawkins, the 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO MS 
 
 cook, and he makes a like promise; then 
 Sumner, and Bradley, and Hall, and they 
 all agree to go on. 
 
 August 28. — At last daylight comes, and 
 we have breakfast, without a word being 
 said about the future. The meal is as sol- 
 emn as a funeral. After breakfast, I ask 
 the three men if they still think it best to 
 leave us. The elder Howland thinks it is, 
 and Dunn agi'ees with him. The younger 
 Howland tries to persuade them to go on 
 with the party, failing in which, he decides 
 to go with his brother. 
 
 Then we cross the river. The small boat 
 is very much disabled, and unseaworthy. 
 With the loss of hands, consequent on the 
 departure of the three men, we shall not be 
 able to run all of the boats, so I decide to 
 leave my Emma Dean, 
 
 Two rifles and a shotgun are given to the 
 men who are going out. I ask them to help 
 themselves to the rations, and take what they 
 think to be a fair share. This they refuse 
 to do, saying they have no fear but that they; 
 
244. FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 can get something to eat; but Billy, the 
 cook, has a pan of biscuits prepared for din- 
 ner, and these he leaves on a rock. 
 
 Before starting, we take our barometers, 
 fossils, the minerals, and some ammunition 
 from the boat, and leave them on the rocks. 
 We are going over this place as light as pos- 
 sible. The three men help us lift our boats 
 over a rock twenty-five or thirty feet high, 
 and let them down again over the first fall, 
 and now we are all ready to start. The last 
 thing before leaving, I write a letter to my 
 wife, and give it to Howland. Sumner 
 gives him his watch, directing that it be sent 
 to his sister, should he not be heard from 
 again. The records of the expedition have 
 been kept in duplicate. One set of these is 
 given to Howland, and now we are ready. 
 For the last time, they entreat us not to go 
 on, and tell us that it is madness to set out 
 in this place; that we can never get safely 
 through it ; and, further, that the river turns 
 again to the south into the granite, and a 
 few miles of such rapids and falls will ex- 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 246 
 
 haust our entire stock of rations, and then 
 it will be too late to climb out. Some tears 
 are shed ; it is rather a solemn parting ; each 
 party thinks the other is taking the danger- 
 ous course. 
 
 My old boat left, I go on board of the 
 Maid of the Canon, The three men climb a 
 crag, that overhangs the river, to watch us 
 off. The Maid of the Canon pushes out. 
 We glide rapidly along the foot of the wall, 
 just grazing one great rock, then pull out a 
 little into the chute of the second fall, and 
 plunge over it. The open compartment is 
 filled when we strike the first wave below, 
 but we cut through it, and then the men pull 
 with all their power toward the left wall, 
 and swing clear of the dangerous rock below 
 all right. We are scarcely a minute in run- 
 ning it, and find that, although it looked bad 
 from above, we have passed many places that 
 were worse. 
 
 The other boat follows without more dif- 
 ficulty. We land at the first practicable 
 point below and fire our guns, as a signal 
 
^46 FmST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 to the men above that we have come over in 
 safety. Here we remain a couple of hours, 
 hoping that they will take the smaller boat 
 and follow us. We are behind a curve in 
 the canon, and cannot see up to where we 
 left them, and so we wait until their coming 
 seems hopeless, and push on.* 
 
 And now we have a succession of rapids 
 and falls until noon, all of which we run in 
 safety. Just after dinner we come to an- 
 other bad place. A little stream comes in 
 from the left, and below there is a fall, and 
 still below another fall. Above, the river 
 tumbles down, over and among the rocks, in 
 whirlpools and great waves, and the waters 
 are lashed into mad, white foam. We run 
 along the left, above this, and soon see that 
 we cannot get down on this side, but it seems 
 possible to let down on the other. We pull 
 up stream again, for two or three hundred 
 yards, and cross. Now there is a bed of 
 basalt on this northern side of the canon, with 
 
 * For the miserable fate of these men see forward under 
 date of Sept. 19, 1870. (Ed.) 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 247 
 
 a bold escarpment, that seems to be a hun- 
 dred feet high. We can climb it, and walk 
 along its summit to a point where we are 
 just at the head of the fall. Here the basalt 
 is broken down again, so it seems to us, and 
 I direct the men to take a line to the top of 
 the cliff, and let the boats down along the 
 wall. One man remains in the boat, to keep 
 her clear of the rocks, and prevent her line 
 from being caught on the projecting angles. 
 I climb the cliff, and pass along to a point 
 just over the fall, and descend by broken 
 rocks, and find that the break of the fall is 
 above the break of the wall, so that we can- 
 not land; and that still below the river is 
 very bad, and that there is no possibihty of 
 a portage. 
 
 Without waiting further to examine and 
 determine what shall be done, I hasten back 
 to the top of the cliff, to stop the boats from 
 coming down. When I arrive, I find the 
 men have let one of them down to the head 
 of the fall. She is in swift water, and they 
 are not able to pull her back; nor are they 
 
£48 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 able to go on with the line, as it is not long 
 enough to reach the higher part of the cliff, 
 which is just before them; so they take a 
 bight around a crag. I send two men 
 back for the other line. The boat is in very 
 swift water, and Bradley is standing in the 
 open compartment, holding out his oar to 
 prevent her from striking against the foot of 
 the cliff. Now she shoots out into the 
 stream, and up as far as the line will permit, 
 and then, wheeling, drives headlong against 
 the rock, then out and back again, now 
 straining on the line, now striking against 
 the rock. As soon as the second line is 
 brought, we pass it down to him ; but his at- 
 tention is all taken up with his own situation, 
 and he does not see that we are passing the 
 line to him. I stand on a projecting rock, 
 waving my hat to gain his attention, for my 
 voice is drowned by the roaring of the falls. 
 Just at this moment, I see him take his 
 knife from its sheath, and step forward to 
 cut the line. He has evidently decided that 
 it is better to go over with the boat as it is, 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 249 
 
 than to wait for her to be broken to pieces. 
 As he leans over, the boat sheers again into 
 the stream, the stem-post breaks away, and 
 she is loose. With perfect composure Brad- 
 ley seizes the great scull oar, places it in the 
 stern rowlock, and pulls with all his power 
 (and he is an athlete) to turn the bow of 
 the boat down stream, for he wishes to go 
 bow down, rather than to drift broadside on. 
 One, two strokes he makes, and a third just 
 as she goes over, and the boat is fairly turned, 
 and she goes down almost beyond our sight, 
 though we are more than a hundred feet 
 above the river. Then she comes up again, 
 on a great wave, and down and up, then 
 around behind some great rocks, and is lost 
 in the mad, white foam below. We stand 
 frozen with fear, for we see no boat. Brad- 
 ley is gone, so it seems. But now, away be- 
 low, we see something coming out of the 
 waves. It is evidently a boat. A moment 
 more, and we see Bradley standing on deck, 
 swinging his hat to show that he is all right. 
 But he is in a whirlpool. We have the stem- 
 
250 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 post of his boat attached to the line. How 
 badly she may be disabled we know not. 
 
 I direct Sumner and Powell to pass along 
 the cliff, and see if they can reach him from 
 below. Rhodes, Hall, and myself run to 
 the other boat, jump aboard, push out, and 
 away we go over the falls. A wave rolls 
 over us, and our boat is unmanageable. An- 
 other great wave strikes us, the boat rolls 
 over, and tumbles and tosses, I know not 
 how. All I know is that Bradley is picking 
 us up. We soon have all right again, and 
 row to the cliff, and wait xmtil Sumner and 
 Powell can come. After a difficult climb 
 they reach us. We run two or three miles 
 farther, and turn again to the northwest, con- 
 tinuing until night, when we have run out of 
 the granite once more. 
 
 August 29. — ^We start very early this 
 morning. The river still continues swift, 
 but we have no serious difficulty, and at 
 twelve o'clock emerge from the Grand 
 Canon of the Colorado. 
 
 We are in a valley now, and low moun- 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 251 
 
 tains are seen in the distance, coming to the 
 river below. We recognize this as the 
 Grand Wash. 
 
 A few years ago, a party of Mormons set 
 out from St. George, Utah, taking with them 
 a boat, and came down to the mouth of the 
 Grand Wash, where they divided, a portion 
 of the party crossing the river to explore the 
 San Francisco Mountains. Three men — 
 Hambhn, Miller, and Crosby — taking the 
 boat, went on down the river to Callville, 
 landing a few miles below the mouth of the 
 Rio Virgen. We have their manuscript 
 journal with us, and so the stream is compar- 
 atively well known. 
 
 To-night we camp on the left bank, in a 
 mesquite thicket. 
 
 The relief from danger, and the joy of suc- 
 cess, are great. When he who has been 
 chained by wounds to a hospital cot, until his 
 canvas tent seems like a dungeon cell, until 
 the groans of those who lie about, tortured 
 with probe and knife, are piled up, a weight 
 of horror on his ears that he cannot throw 
 
252 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 off, cannot forget, and until the stench of 
 festering wounds and anassthetic drugs has 
 filled the air with its loathsome burthen, at 
 last goes out into the open field, what a world 
 he sees ! How beautiful the sky ; how bright 
 the sunshine; what "floods of delirious 
 music" pour from the throats of birds; how 
 sweet the fragrance of earth, and tree, and 
 blossom! The first hour of convalescent 
 freedom seems rich recompense for all — pain, 
 gloom, terror. 
 
 Something like this are the feelings we ex- 
 perience to-night. Ever before us has been 
 an unknown danger, heavier than immediate 
 peril. Every waking hour passed in the 
 Grand Canon has been one of toil. We have 
 watched with deep solicitude the steady dis- 
 appearance of our scant supply of rations, 
 and from time to time have seen the river 
 snatch a portion of the little left, while we 
 were ahungered. And danger and toil were 
 endured in those gloomy depths, where oft- 
 times the clouds hid the sky by day, and but 
 a narrow zone of stars could be seen at night. 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO ^53 
 
 Only during the few hours of deep sleep, 
 consequent on hard labor, has the roar of the 
 waters been hushed. Now the danger is 
 over ; now the toil has ceased ; now the gloom 
 has disappeared; now the firmament is 
 bounded only by the horizon; and what 
 a vast expanse of constellations can be 
 seen! 
 
 The river rolls by us in silent majesty; the 
 quiet of the camp is sweet; our joy is almost 
 ecstasy. We sit till long after midnight, 
 talking of the Grand Canon, talking of home, 
 but chiefly talking of the three men who left 
 us. Are they wandering in those depths, 
 unable to find a way out? are they searching 
 over the desert lands above for water? or are 
 they nearing the settlements? 
 
 August 30. — We run through two or three 
 short, low canons to-day, and on emerging 
 from one, we discover a band of Indians in 
 the valley below. They see us, and scamper 
 away in most eager haste, to hide among the 
 rocks. Although we land, and call for them 
 to return, not an Indian can be seen. 
 
254 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Two or three miles farther down, in turn- 
 ing a short bend in the river, we come upon 
 another camp. So near are we before they 
 can see us that I can shout to them, and, 
 being able to speak a little of their language, 
 I tell them we are friends ; but they all flee 
 to the rocks, except a man, a woman, and 
 two children. We land, and talk with them. 
 They are without lodges, but have built little 
 shelters of boughs, under which they wallow 
 in the sand. (The man is dressed in a hat; 
 the woman in a string of beads only.^ At 
 first they are evidently much terrified; but 
 when I talk to them in their own language, 
 and tell them we are friends, and inquire 
 after people in the Mormon towns, they are 
 soon reassured, and beg for tobacco. Of this 
 precious article we have none to spare. Sum- 
 ner looks around in the boat for something 
 to give them, and finds a little piece of col- 
 ored soap, which they receive as a valuable 
 present, rather as a thing of beauty than as 
 a useful commodity, however. They are 
 either unwilling or unable to tell us anything 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 255 
 
 about the Indians or white people, and so we 
 push off, for we must lose no time. 
 
 We camp at noon under the right bank. 
 And now, as we push out, we are in great 
 expectancy, for we hope every minute to dis- 
 cover the mouth of the Rio Virgen. 
 
 Soon one of the men exclaims : " Yonder's 
 an Indian in the river," Looking for a few 
 minutes, we certainly do see two or three per- 
 sons. The men bend to their oars, and pull 
 toward them. Approaching, we see that 
 there are three white men and an Indian 
 hauling a seine, and then we discover that it 
 is just at the mouth of the long sought river. 
 
 As we come near, the men seem far less 
 surprised to see us than we do to see them. 
 They evidently know who we are, and, on 
 talking with them, they tell us that we have 
 been reported lost long ago, and that some 
 weeks before, a messenger had been sent 
 from Salt Lake City, with instructions for 
 them to watch for any fragments or relics 
 of our party that might drift down the 
 stream. 
 
256 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 Our new found friends, Mr. Asa and his 
 two sons, tell us that they are pioneers of a 
 town that is to be built on the bank. 
 
 Eighteen or twenty miles up the valley of 
 the Rio Virgen there are two Mormon 
 towns, St. Joseph and St. Thomas. To- 
 night we dispatch an Indian to the last men- 
 tioned place, to bring any letters that may 
 be there for us. 
 
 Our arrival here is very opportune. 
 When we look over our store of supplies, we 
 find about ten pounds of flour, fifteen pounds 
 of dried apples, but seventy or eighty pounds 
 of coffee. 
 
 August 31. — This afternoon the Indian 
 returns with a letter, informing us that 
 Bishop Leithhead, of St. Thomas, and two 
 or three other Mormons are coming down 
 with a wagon, bringing us supplies. They 
 arrive about sundown. Mr. Asa treats us 
 with great kindness, to the extent of his abil- 
 ity; but Bishop Leithhead brings in his 
 wagon two or three dozen melons, and many 
 
GRAND CANYON OF THE COLORADO 257 
 
 other little luxuries, and we are comfortable 
 once more. 
 
 September 1. — This morning Sumner, 
 Bradley, Hawkins, and Hall, taking on a 
 small supply of rations, start down the Col- 
 orado with the boats. It is their intention 
 to go to Fort Mojave, and perhaps from 
 there overland to Los Angeles. 
 
 Captain Powell and myself return with 
 Bishop Leithhead to St. Thomas. From 
 St. Thomas we go to Salt Lake City. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE RIO VIRGEN AND THE U-IN-KA-RET 
 MOUNTAINS * 
 
 WE have determined to con- 
 tinue the exploration of the 
 canons of the Colorado. Our 
 last trip was so hurried, owing to the loss 
 of rations, and the scientific instruments 
 were so badly injured, that we are not satis- 
 fied with the results obtained, so we shall 
 once more attempt to pass through the 
 canons in boats, devoting two or three years 
 to the trip. 
 
 It will not be possible to carry in the boats 
 sufficient supplies for the party for that 
 length of time, so it is thought best to es- 
 tablish depots of supplies, at intervals of one 
 or two hundred miles along the river. 
 
 *Here the story is continued in September of the fol- 
 lowing ye&r^ 1870. (Ed.) 
 
 258 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^69 
 
 Between Gunnison's Crossing and the foot 
 of the Grand Canon, we know of only two 
 points where the river can be reached — one 
 at the Crossing of the Fathers, and another a 
 few miles below, at the mouth of the Paria, 
 on a route which has been explored by Jacob 
 Hamblin, a Mormon missionary. These 
 two points are so near each other that only 
 one of them can be selected for the purpose 
 above mentioned, and others must be found. 
 We have been unable, up to this time, to ob- 
 tain, either from Indians or white men, any 
 information which will give us a clue to any 
 other trail to the river. 
 
 At the head waters of the Sevier, we are 
 on the summit of a great water-shed. The 
 Sevier itself flows north, and then westward, 
 into the lake of the same name. The Rio 
 Virgen, heading near by, flows to the south- 
 west, into the Colorado, sixty or seventy 
 miles below the Grand Canon. The Kanab, 
 also heading near by, runs directly south, 
 into the very heart of the Grand Canon. 
 The Paria, also heading near by, runs a lit- 
 
260 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 tie south of east, and enters the river at the 
 head of Marble Canon. To the northeast 
 from this point, other streams, which run 
 into the Colorado, have their sources, until, 
 forty or fifty miles away, we reach the south- 
 ern branches of the Dirty Devil River, the 
 mouth of which stream is but a short dis- 
 tance below the junction of the Grand and 
 Green. 
 
 The Pouns-a'-gunt Plateau terminates in 
 a point, which is bounded by a line of beauti- 
 ful pink chffs. At the foot of this plateau, 
 on the west, the Rio Virgen and Sevier 
 Rivers are dovetailed together, as their mi- 
 nute upper branches interlock. The upper 
 surface of the plateau inclines to the north- 
 east, so that its waters roll off into the Sevier; 
 but from the foot of the cliffs, quite around 
 the sharp angle of the plateau, for a dozen 
 miles, we find numerous springs, whose wa- 
 ters unite to form the Kanab. But a httle 
 farther to the northeast the springs gather 
 into streams that feed the Paria. 
 
 Here, by the upper springs of the Kanab, 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 261 
 
 ,we make a camp, and from this point we are 
 to radiate on a series of trips, southwest, 
 south, and east. 
 
 Jacob Hamblin, who Has been a mission- 
 ary among the Indians for more than twenty- 
 years, has collected a number of Kai^-vav-its, 
 vnih. Chu-af-ru'Um-peak, their chief, and 
 they are all camped with us. They assure 
 us that we cannot reach the river; that we 
 cannot make our way into the depths of the 
 canon, but promise to show us the springs 
 and water pockets, which are very scarce in 
 all this region, and to give us all the infor- 
 mation in their power. 
 
 Here we fit up a pack train, for our bed- 
 ding and instruments, and supplies are to be 
 carried on the backs of mules and ponies, 
 
 September 5, 1870. — The several members 
 of the party are engaged in general prepara- 
 tion for our trip down to the Grand Canon. 
 
 Taking with me a white man and an In- 
 dian, I start on a climb to the summit of the 
 Pouns-a'-gunt Plateau, which rises above us 
 on the east. Our way, for a mile or more, is 
 
^62 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 over a great peat bog, that trembles under 
 our feet, and now and then a mule sinks 
 through the broken turf, and we are com- 
 pelled to pull it out with ropes. 
 
 Passing the bog, our way is up a gulch, 
 at the foot of the Pink Cliffs, which form the 
 escarpment, or wall, of the great plateau. 
 Soon we leave the gulch, and climb a long 
 ridge, which winds around to the right to- 
 ward the summit of the great table. 
 
 Two hours' riding, climbing, and clamber- 
 ing brings us near the top. We look below, 
 and see clouds drifting up from the south, 
 and rolling tumultuously toward the foot of 
 the chffs, beneath us. Soon, all the country 
 below is covered with a sea of vapor — a bil- 
 lowy, raging, noiseless sea — and as the 
 vapory flood still rolls up from the south, 
 great waves dash against the foot of the 
 cliffs and roll back; another tide comes in, 
 is hurled back, and another and another, 
 lashing the cliffs until the fog rises to the 
 summit, and covers us all. 
 
 There is a heavy pine and fir forest above. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 263 
 
 ibeset with dead and fallen timber, and we 
 make our way through the undergrowth to 
 the east. 
 
 It rains! The clouds discharge their 
 moisture in torrents, and we make for our- 
 selves shelters of boughs, which are soon 
 abandoned, and we stand shivering by a 
 great fire of pine logs and boughs, which we 
 have kindled, but which the pelting storm 
 half extinguishes. 
 
 One, two, three, four hours of the storm, 
 and at last it partially abates. 
 
 During this time our animals, which we 
 have turned loose, have sought for themselves 
 shelter under the trees, and two of them have 
 wandered away beyond om' sight. I go out 
 to follow their tracks, and come near to the 
 brink of a ledge of rocks, which, in the fog 
 and mist, I suppose to be a little ridge, and 
 I look for a way by which I can go down. 
 Standing just here, there is a rift made in 
 the fog below, by some current or blast of 
 wind, which reveals an almost bottomless 
 abyss. I look from the brink of a great 
 
S64f FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 precipice of more than two thousand feet; 
 but, through the mist, the forms below are 
 half obscured, and all reckoning of distance 
 is lost, and it seems ten thousand feet, ten 
 miles — any distance the imagination desires 
 to make it. 
 
 Catching our animals, we return to the 
 camp. We find that the little streams which 
 come down from the plateau are greatly 
 swollen, but at camp they have had no rain. 
 The clouds which drifted up from the south, 
 striking against the plateau, were lifted up 
 into colder regions, and discharged their 
 moisture on the summit, and against the 
 sides of the plateau, but there was no rain in 
 the valley below. 
 
 September 9. — ^We make a fair start this 
 morning, from the beautiful meadow at the 
 head of the Kanab, and cross the Une of lit- 
 tle hills at the headwaters of the Rio Vir- 
 gen, and pass, to the south, a pretty valley, 
 and at ten o'clock come to the brink of a 
 great geographic bench — a line of cliffs. 
 Behind us are cool springs, green meadows, 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 265 
 
 and forest clad slopes; below us, stretching 
 to the south, until the world is lost in blue 
 haze, is a painted desert; not a desert plain, 
 but a desert of rocks, cut by deep gorges, 
 and relieved by towering cliffs and pinnacled 
 rocks — naked rocks, brilliant in the sun- 
 hght. 
 
 By a dijfficult trail, we make our way down 
 the basaltic ledge, through which innumer- 
 able streams here gather into a httle river, 
 running in a deep canon. The river runs 
 close to the foot of the cliffs, on the right 
 hand side, and the trail passes along to the 
 right. At noon we rest, and our animals 
 feed on luxuriant grass. 
 
 Again we start, and make slow progress 
 along a stony way. At night we camp un- 
 der an overarching cliff. 
 
 September 10. — Here the river turns to 
 the west, and our way, properly, is to the 
 south; but we wish to explore the Rio Vir- 
 gen as far as possible. The Indians tell us 
 that the canon narrows gradually, a few 
 miles below, and that it will be impossible to 
 
^66 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 take our animals much farther down the 
 river. Early in the morning, I go down to 
 examine the head of this narrow part. After 
 breakfast, having concluded to explore the 
 canon for a few miles on foot, we arrange 
 that the main party shall climb the cliff, and 
 go around to a point eighteen or twenty 
 miles below, where, the Indians say, the ani- 
 mals can be taken down by the river, and 
 three of us set out on foot. 
 
 The Indian name of the canon is Pa-ru^- 
 nU'Weap^ or Roaring Water Canon. Be- 
 tween the little river and the foot of the 
 walls, is a dense growth of willows, vines, and 
 wild rose bushes, and, with great difficulty, 
 we make our way through this tangled mass. 
 It is not a wide stream — only twenty or 
 thirty feet across in most places; shallow, 
 but very swift. After spending some hours 
 in breaking our way through the mass of 
 vegetation, and climbing rocks here and 
 there, it is determined to wade along the 
 stream. In some places this is an easy task, 
 but here and there we come to deep holes, 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN «6T 
 
 where we have to wade to our arm pits. 
 Soon we come to places so narrow that the 
 river fills the entire channel, and we wade 
 perforce. In many places the bottom is a 
 quicksand, into which we sink, and it is with 
 great difficulty that we make progress. In 
 some places the holes are so deep that we 
 have to swim, and our little bundles of 
 blankets and rations are fixed to a raft made 
 of driftwood, and pushed before us. Now 
 and then there is a little flood-plain, on which 
 we can walk, and we cross and recross the 
 stream, and wade along the channel where 
 the water is so swift as to almost carry us 
 off our feet, and we are in danger every mo- 
 ment of being swept down, until night comes 
 on. We estimate we have traveled eight 
 miles to-day. We find a little patch of 
 flood-plain, on which there is a huge pile of 
 driftwood and a clump of box-elders, and 
 near by a great stream, which bursts from the 
 rocks — a mammoth spring. 
 
 We soon have a huge fire, our clothes are 
 spread to dry, we make a cup of coffee, take 
 
^68 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 out our bread and cheese and dried beef, and 
 enjoy a hearty supper. 
 
 The canon here is about twelve hundred 
 feet deep. It has been very narrow and 
 winding all the way down to this point. 
 
 September 11. — Wading again this morn- * 
 ing; sinking in the quicksand, svrimming the 
 deep waters, and making slow and painful 
 progress where the waters are swift, and the 
 bed of the stream rocky. 
 
 The canon is steadily becoming deeper, 
 and, in many places, very narrow — only 
 twenty or thirty feet wide below, and in some 
 places no wider, and even narrower, for hun- 
 dreds of feet overhead. There are places 
 where the river, in sweeping by curves, has 
 cut far under the rocks, but still preserving 
 its narrow channel, so that there is an over- 
 hanging wall on one side and an inclined wall 
 on the other. In places a few hundred feet 
 above, it becomes vertical again, and thus 
 the view of the sky is entirely closed. Every- 
 where this deep passage is dark and gloomy, 
 and resoimds with the noise of rapid waters. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^69 
 
 At noon we are in a canon 2,500 feet deep, 
 and we come to a fall where the walls are 
 broken down, and huge rocks beset the chan- 
 nel, on which we obtain a foothold to reach 
 a level two hundred feet below. Here the 
 canon is again wider, and we find a flood- 
 plain, along which we can walk, now on this, 
 and now on that side of the stream. Grad- 
 ually the canon widens; steep rapids, cas- 
 cades, and cataracts are found along the 
 river, but we wade only when it is necessary 
 to cross. We make progress with very great 
 labor, having to climb over piles of broken 
 rocks. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, we come to a little 
 clearing in the valley, and see other signs of 
 civilization, and by sundown arrive at the 
 Mormon town of Schunesburg; and here we 
 meet the train, and feast on melons and 
 grapes. 
 
 September 12. — Our course, for the last 
 two days, through Pa-ru^-nu-weap Canon, 
 was directly to the west. Another stream 
 comes down from the north, and unites just 
 
270 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 here at Schunesburg with the main branch 
 of the Rio Virgen. We determine to spend 
 a day in the exploration of this stream. The 
 Indians call the canon, through which it rmis, 
 Mu'hoon^'tU'Weap, or Straight Canon. En- 
 tering this, we have to wade up stream ; often 
 the water fills the entire channel, and, al- 
 though we travel many miles, we find no 
 flood-plain, talus, or broken piles of rock at 
 the foot of the cliff. The walls have smooth, 
 plain faces, and are everywhere very regu- 
 lar and vertical for a thousand feet or more, 
 where they seem to break b^,ck in shelving 
 slopes to higher altitudes; and everywhere, 
 as we go along, we find springs bursting out 
 at the foot of the walls, and, passing these, 
 the river above becomes steadily smaller ; the 
 great body of water, which runs below, bursts 
 out from beneath this great bed of red sand- 
 stone ; as we go up the canon, it comes to be 
 but a creek, and then a brook. On the west- 
 ern wall of the canon stand some buttes, tow- 
 ers, and high pinnacled rocks. Going up 
 the canon, we gain glimpses of them, here 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^71 
 
 and there. Last summer, after our trip 
 through the canons of the Colorado, on our 
 way from the mouth of the Virgen to Salt 
 Lake City, these were seen as conspicuous 
 landmarks, from a distance, away to the 
 southwest, of sixty or seventy miles. These 
 tower rocks are known as the Temples of the 
 Virgen. 
 
 Having explored this canon nearly to its 
 head, we return to Schunesburg, arriving 
 quite late at night. 
 
 Sitting in camp this evening, Chu-ar^-rU' 
 um-peakj, the chief of the KaV-vav-itSj who 
 is one of our party, tells us there is a tradi- 
 tion among the tribes of this country, that 
 many years ago a great light was seen some- 
 where in this region by the Pa-ru^-sha-pats^ 
 who lived to the southwest, and that they 
 supposed it to be a signal, kindled to warn 
 them of the approach of the Navajos, who 
 live beyond the Colorado River to the east. 
 Then other signal fires were kindled on the 
 Pine Valley Mountain, Santa Clara Moun- 
 tains, and U-in-ka-ret Mountains, so that all 
 
n% FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 the tribes of Northern Arizona, Southern 
 Utah, Southern Nevada, and Southern CaU- 
 f ornia were warned of the approaching dan- 
 ger; but when the Pa-ru^sha-pats came 
 nearer, they discovered that it was a fire on 
 one of the great Temples; and then they 
 knew that the fire was not kindled by men, 
 for no human being could scale the rocks. 
 The Tu'-mu-ur-ru-gwaif-si-gaip, or Rock 
 Rovers, had kindled a fire to deceive the peo- 
 ple. In the Indian language this is called 
 Tu^-mu-ur-ru-gwaif-si-gaip Tu-weap', or 
 Rock Rovers' Land. 
 
 September 13. — ^We start very early this 
 morning, for we have a long day's travel be- 
 fore us. Our way is across the Rio Virgen to 
 the south. Coming to the bank of the stream 
 here, we find a strange metamorphosis. The 
 streams we have seen above, running in 
 narrow channels, leaping and plunging over 
 the rocks, raging and roaring in their course, 
 are here united, and spread in a thin sheet 
 several hundred yards wide, and only a few 
 inches deep, but running over a bed of quick- 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 273 
 
 sand. Crossing the stream, our trail leads 
 up a narrow canon, not very deep, and then 
 among the hills of golden, red, and purple 
 shales and marls. Climbing out of the val- 
 ley of the Rio Virgen, we pass through a for- 
 est of dwarf cedars, and come out at the foot 
 of the Vermilion CHffs. All day we follow 
 this Indian trail toward the east, and at night 
 camp at a great spring, known to the Indians 
 as Yellow Rock Spring, but to the Mormons 
 as Pipe Spring; and near by there is a cabin 
 in which some Mormon herders find shelter. 
 Pipe Spring is a point just across the Utah 
 line in Arizona, and we suppose it to be about 
 sixty miles from the river. Here the Mor- 
 mons design to build a fort another year, as 
 an outpost for protection against the In- 
 dians. 
 
 Here we discharge a number of the In- 
 dians, but take two with us for the purpose of 
 showing us the springs, for they are very 
 scarce, very small, and not easily found. 
 Half a dozen are not known in a district of 
 country large enough to make as many good 
 
S74 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 sized counties in Illinois. There are no run- 
 ning streams, and these springs and water- 
 pockets — that is, holes in the rocks, which 
 hold water from shower to shower — are our 
 only dependence for this element. 
 
 Starting, we leave behind a long line of 
 cliffs, many hundred feet high, composed of 
 orange and vermilion sandstones. I have 
 named them "Vermilion Cliffs." When we 
 are out a few miles, I look back, and see the 
 morning sun shining in splendor on their 
 painted faces ; the salient angles are on fire, 
 and the retreating angles are buried in shade, 
 and I gaze on them until my vision dreams, 
 and the chffs appear a long bank of purple 
 clouds, piled from the horizon high into the 
 heavens. At noon we pass along a ledge of 
 chocolate chffs, and, taking out our sand- 
 wiches, we make a dinner as we ride along. 
 
 Yesterday, our Indians discussed for 
 hours the route which we should take. There 
 is one way, farther by ten or twelve miles, 
 with sure water; another shorter, where wa- 
 ter is found sometimes ; their conclusion was 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 275 
 
 that water would be found now; and this is 
 the way we go, yet all day long we are anx- 
 ious about it. To be out two days, with only 
 the water that can be carried in two small 
 kegs, is to have our animals suffer greatly. 
 At five o'clock we come to the spot, and 
 there is a huge water-pocket, containing sev- 
 eral barrels. What a rehef! Here we 
 camp for the night. 
 
 September 15. — Up at day-break, for it is 
 a long day's march to the next water. They 
 say we must "run very hard" to reach it by 
 dark. 
 
 Our course is to the south. From Pipe 
 Spring we can see a mountain, and I recog- 
 nize it as the one seen last summer from a 
 cliff overlooking the Grand Canon; and I 
 wish to reach the river just behind the moun- 
 tain. There are Indians living in the group, 
 of which it is the highest, whom I wish to 
 visit on the way. These mountains are of 
 volcanic origin, and we soon come to ground 
 that is covered with fragments of lava. The 
 way becomes very difficult. We have to 
 
276 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 cross deep ravines, the heads of canons that 
 run into the Grand Canon. It is curious 
 now to observe the knowledge of our Indians. 
 There is not a trail but what they know; 
 every gulch and every rock seems familiar. 
 I have prided myself on being able to grasp 
 and retain in my mind the topography of a 
 country; but these Indians put me to shame. 
 My knowledge is only general, embracing 
 the more important features of a region that 
 remains as a map engraved on my mind; but 
 theirs is particular. They know every rock 
 and every ledge, every gulch and canon, and 
 just where to wind among these to find a 
 pass ; and their knowledge is imerring. They 
 cannot describe a country to you, but they 
 can tell you all the particulars of a route. 
 
 I have but one pony for the two, and they 
 were to ride "tm-n about"; but Chu-ar'-ru- 
 um-peak, the chief, rides, and Shuts, the one- 
 eyed, bare-legged, merry-faced pigmy, 
 walks, and points the way with a slender 
 cane ; then leaps and bounds by the shortest 
 way, and sits down on a rock and waits de- 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 277 
 
 murely until we come, always meeting us 
 with a jest, his face a rich mine of sunny 
 smiles. 
 
 At dusk we reach the water-pocket. It is 
 in a deep gorge, on the flank of this great 
 mountain. During the rainy season the wa- 
 ter rolls down the mountain side, plunging 
 over precipices, and excavates a deep basin 
 in the solid rock below. This basin, hidden 
 from the sun, holds water the year round. 
 
 September 16. — This morning, while the 
 men are packing the animals, I climb a little 
 mountain near camp, to obtain a view of the 
 country. It is a huge pile of volcanic scoria, 
 loose and light as cinders from a forge, which 
 give way under my feet, and I climb w4th 
 great labor; but reaching the summit, and 
 looking to the southeast, I see once more the 
 labyrinth of deep gorges that flank the 
 Grand Canon ; in the multitude, I cannot de- 
 termine whether it be in view or not. The 
 memories of grand and awful months spent 
 in their deep, gloomy solitudes come up, and 
 I live that life over again for a time. 
 
SH6 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 I supposed, before starting, that I could 
 get a good view of the great mountain from 
 this point; but it is Hke climbing a chair to 
 look at a castle. I wish to discover some way 
 by which it can be ascended, as it is my inten- 
 tion to go to the summit before I return to 
 the settlements. There is a cliff near the 
 summit, and I do not see the way yet. Now 
 down I go, sliding on the cinders, making 
 them rattle and clang. 
 
 The Indians say we are to have a short ride 
 to-day, and that we will reach an Indian vil- 
 lage, situated by a good spring. Our way 
 is across the spurs that put out from the 
 great mountain, as we pass it to the left. 
 
 Up and down we go, across deep ravines, 
 and the fragments of lava clank under our 
 horses' feet; now among cedars, now among 
 pines, and now across mountain side glades. 
 At one o'clock we descend into a lovely val- 
 ley, with a carpet of waving grass; some- 
 times there is a little water in the upper end 
 of it, and, during some seasons, the Indians 
 we wish to find are encamped here. Chu- 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^79 
 
 ar^'ru'urri'pedk rides on to find them, and to 
 say we are friends, otherwise they would run 
 away, or propose to fight us, should we come 
 without notice. Soon we see Chu-ar^-ru-um- 
 pedk riding at full speed, and hear him shout- 
 ing at the top of his voice, and away in the 
 distance are two Indians, scampering up the 
 mountain side. One stops; the other still 
 goes on, and is soon lost to view. We ride 
 up, and find Chu-af-ru-um-peak talking 
 with the one who had stopped. It is one of 
 the ladies resident in these mountain glades ; 
 she is evidently paying taxes, Godiva like. 
 She tells us that her people are at the spring; 
 that it is only two hours' ride; that her good 
 master has gone on to tell them we are com- 
 ing, and that she is harvesting seeds. 
 
 We sit down and eat our luncheon, and 
 share our biscuit with the woman of the 
 mountains ; then on we go, over a divide be- 
 tween two rounded peaks. I send the party 
 on to the village, and climb the peak on the 
 left, riding my horse to the upper limit of 
 trees, and then tugging up afoot. From this 
 
280 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 point I can see the Grand Canon, and know 
 where I am. I can see the Indian village, 
 too, in a grassy valley, embosomed in the 
 mountains, the smoke curling up from their 
 jSres; my men are turning out their horses, 
 and a group of natives stand around. Down 
 the mountain I go, and reach camp at sun- 
 set. 
 
 After supper we put some cedar boughs 
 on the fire, the dusky villagers sit around, 
 and we have a smoke and a talk. I explain 
 the object of my visit, and assure them of 
 my friendly intentions. Then I ask them 
 about a way down into the canon. They tell 
 me that years ago, a way was discovered by 
 which parties could go down, but that no one 
 has attempted it for a long time; that it is 
 a very difficult and very dangerous under- 
 taking to reach the "Big Water." Then I 
 inquire about the SM-vwits, a tribe that lives 
 about the springs on the mountain sides and 
 canon cliffs to the southwest. They say that 
 their village is now about thirty miles away. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN «81 
 
 and promise to send a messenger for them to- 
 morrow morning. 
 
 Having finished our business for the even- 
 ing, I ask if there is a tu-gwi'-na-gunt in 
 camp: that is, if there is any one present 
 who is skilled in relating their mythology. 
 Chu-af-ru-um-peak says To-mor^-ro-un-ti' 
 kai, the chief of these Indians, is a very noted 
 man for his skill in this matter ; but they both 
 object, by saying that the season for tu-gmf- 
 nai has not yet arrived. But I had antici- 
 pated this, and soon some members of the 
 party come with pipes and tobacco, a large 
 kettle of coffee, and a tray of biscuits, and, 
 after sundry ceremonies of pipe lighting and 
 smoking, we all feast, and, warmed up by 
 this, to them, unusual good living, it is de- 
 cided that the night shall be spent in relating 
 mythology. I ask To-mor'-ro-un-ti-kai to 
 tell us about the So^-kus Wai'-tm-ats, or 
 One Two Boys, and to this he agrees. 
 
 The long winter evenings of an Indian 
 camp are usually devoted to the relation of 
 
^82 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 mythological stories, which purport to give 
 a history of an ancient race of animal gods. 
 The stories are usually told by some old man, 
 assisted by others of the party, who take sec- 
 ondary parts, while the members of the tribe 
 gather about, and make comments, or receive 
 impressions from the morals which are en- 
 forced by the story teller, or, more properly, 
 story tellers ; for the exercise partakes some- 
 what of the nature of a theatrical perform- 
 ance. 
 
 THE SO'-KUS WAl'-UN-ATS. 
 
 Tum-p'wi-nai^'-ro-'g'wi'nump, he who had 
 a stone shirt, killed Si-kor^, the Crane, and 
 stole his wife, and seeing that she had a child, 
 and thinking it would be an incumbrance to 
 them on their travels, he ordered her to kill 
 it. But the mother, loving the babe, hid it 
 under her dress, and carried it away to its 
 grandmother. And Stone Shirt carried his 
 captured bride to his own land. 
 
 In a few years the child grew to be a fine 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 285 
 
 lad, under the care of his grandmother, and 
 was her companion wherever she went. 
 
 One day they were digging flag roots, on 
 the margin of the river, and putting them in 
 a heap on the bank. When they had been 
 at work a little while, the boy perceived that 
 the roots came up with greater ease than was 
 customary, and he asked the old woman the 
 cause of this, but she did not know; and, as 
 they continued their work, still the reeds 
 came up with less eJff ort, at which their won- 
 der increased, until the grandmother said, 
 "Surely, some strange thing is about to tran- 
 spire." Then the boy went to the heap, 
 where they had been placing the roots, and 
 found that some one had taken them away, 
 and he ran back, exclaiming, "Grandmother, 
 did you take the roots away?" And she an- 
 swered, "No, my child; perhaps some ghost 
 has taken them off; let us dig no more; come 
 away." But the boy was not satisfied, as he 
 greatly desired to know what all this meant ; 
 so he searched about for a time, and at length 
 
^84 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 found a man sitting under a tree, whom he 
 taunted with being a thief, and threw mud 
 and stones at him, until he broke the stran- 
 ger's leg, who answered not the boy, nor re- 
 sented the injuries he received, but remained 
 silent and sorrowful; and, when his leg was 
 broken, he tied it up in sticks, and bathed it 
 in the river, and sat down again under the 
 tree, and beckoned the boy to approach. 
 When the lad came near, the stranger told 
 him he had something of great importance 
 to reveal. "My son," said he, "did that old 
 woman ever tell you about your father and 
 mother?" "No," answered the boy; "I have 
 never heard of them." "My son, do you see 
 these bones scattered on the ground ? Whose 
 bones are these?" "How should I know?" 
 answered the boy. " It may be that some 
 elk or deer has been killed here." "No," 
 said the old man. "Perhaps they are the 
 bones of a bear;" but the old man shook his 
 head. So the boy mentioned many other 
 animals, but the stranger still shook his head, 
 and finally said, "These are the bones of your 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 285 
 
 father; Stone Shirt killed him, and left him 
 to rot here on the ground, like a wolf." And 
 the boy was filled with indignation against 
 the slayer of his father. Then the stranger 
 asked, "Is your mother in yonder lodge?" 
 and the boy replied, "No." "Does your 
 mother live on the banks of this river?" and 
 the boy answered, "I don't know my mother; 
 I have never seen her; she is dead." "My 
 son," rephed the stranger, "Stone Shirt, who 
 killed your father, stole your mother, and 
 took her away to the shore of a distant lake, 
 and there she is his wife to-day." And the 
 boy wept bitterly, and while the tears filled 
 his eyes so that he could not see, the stranger 
 disappeared. Then the boy was filled with 
 wonder at what he had seen and heard, and 
 malice grew in his heart against his father's 
 enemy. He returned to the old woman, and 
 said, "Grandmother, why have you lied to 
 me about my father and mother?" and she 
 answered not, for she knew that a ghost had 
 told all to the boy. And the boy fell upon 
 the ground weeping and sobbing, until he 
 
286 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 fell into a deep sleep, when strange things 
 were told him. 
 
 His slumber continued three days and 
 three nights, and when he awoke, he said to 
 his grandmother: "I am going away to en- 
 list all nations in my fight ;" and straightway 
 he departed. 
 
 (Here the boy's travels are related with 
 many circumstances concerning the way he 
 was received by the people, all given in a 
 series of conversations, very lengthy, so they 
 will be omitted.) 
 
 Finally he returned in advance of the peo- 
 ple whom he had enlisted, bringing with him 
 Shin-au^-av, the wolf, and To-go'-av, the rat- 
 tlesnake. When the three had eaten food, 
 the boy said to the old woman: "Grand- 
 mother, cut me in two!" But she demurred, 
 saying she did not wish to kill one whom she 
 loved so dearly. "Cut me in two!" de- 
 manded the boy ; and he gave her a stone ax, 
 which he had brought from a distant country, 
 and with a manner of great authority he 
 again commanded her to cut him in two. So 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 287 
 
 she stood before him, and severed him in 
 twain, and fled in terror. And lo ! each part 
 took the form of an entire man, and the one 
 beautiful boy appeared as two, and they 
 were so much alike no one could tell them 
 apart. 
 
 When the people or natives, whom the boy 
 had enlisted, came pouring into the camp, 
 Sh^n-au'-av and To-go'-av were engaged in 
 telling them of the wonderful thing that had 
 happened to the boy, and that now there 
 were two ; and they all held it to be an augury 
 of a successful expedition to the land of 
 Stone Shirt. And they started on their 
 journey. 
 
 Now the boy had been told in the dream 
 of his three days' slumber, of a magical cup, 
 and he had brought it home with him from 
 his journey among the nations, and the So^- 
 hus Wai^-un-ats carried it between them, 
 filled with water. Shin-au^-av walked on 
 their right, and To-go^-av on their left, and 
 the nations followed in the order in which 
 they had been enlisted. There was a vast 
 
288 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 number of them, so that when they were 
 stretched out in line it was one day's journey 
 from the front to the rear of the colunm. 
 
 When they had journeyed two days, and 
 were far out on the desert, all the people 
 thirsted, for they found no water, and they 
 fell down upon the sand, groaning, and mur- 
 muring that they had been deceived, and they 
 cursed the One-Two. 
 
 But the So'-hus WaV-un-ats had been told 
 in the wonderful dream of the suffering 
 which would be endured, and that the water 
 which they carried in the cup was only to be 
 used in dire necessity; and the brothers said 
 to each other: "Now the time has come for 
 us to drink the water." And when one had 
 quaffed of the magical bowl, he found it still 
 full; and he gave it to the other to drink, and 
 still it was full; and the One-Two gave it 
 to the people, and one after another did they 
 all drink, and still the cup was full to the 
 brim. 
 
 But Shin-au'-av was dead, and all the 
 people mourned, for he was a great man. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 289 
 
 The brothers held the cup over hiirij and 
 sprinkled him with water, when he arose and 
 said : "Why do you disturb me ? I did have 
 a vision of mountain brooks and meadows, 
 of cane where honey-dew was plenty." They 
 gave him the cup, and he drank also; but 
 when he had finished there was none left. 
 Refreshed and rejoicing they proceeded on 
 their journey. 
 
 The next day, being without food, they 
 were hungry, and all were about to perish; 
 and again they murmured at the brothers, 
 and cursed them. But the So^-kus Wai'-un- 
 ats saw in the distance an antelope, standing 
 on an eminence in the plain, in bold relief 
 against the sky; and Shin-au^-av knew it was 
 the wonderful antelope with many eyes, 
 which Stone Shirt kept for his watchman; 
 and he proposed to go and kill it, but To- 
 gd-av demurred, and said: "It were better 
 that I should go, for he will see you, and run 
 away." But the So^-hus Wai^-un-ats told 
 Shin-au^-av to go ; and he started in a direc- 
 tion away to the left of where the antelope 
 
290 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 was standing, that he might make a long 
 detour about some hills, and come upon him 
 from the other side. To-go^-av went a lit- 
 tle way from camp, and called to the broth- 
 ers: "Do you see me?'' and they answered 
 they did not. "Hunt for me;" and while 
 they were hunting for him, the rattlesnake 
 said: "I can see you; you are doing" — so 
 and so, telling them what they were doing; 
 but they could not find him. 
 
 Then the rattlesnake came forth, declar- 
 ing: "Now you know I can see others, and 
 that I cannot be seen when I so desire. Shin- 
 au^-av cannot kill that antelope, for he has 
 many eyes, and is the wonderful watchman 
 of Stone Shirt; but I can kill him, for I can 
 go where he is, and he cannot see me." So 
 the brothers were convinced, and permitted 
 him to go; and he went and killed the ante- 
 lope. When Shin-au^-av saw it fall, he was 
 very angry, for he was extremely proud of 
 his fame as a hunter, and anxious to have the 
 honor of killing this famous antelope, and 
 he ran up with the intention of killing To- 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN «91 
 
 gd-av; but when he drew near, and saw the 
 antelope was fat, and would make a rich feast 
 for the people, his anger was appeased. 
 "What matters it," said he, "who kills the 
 game, when we can all eat it?" 
 
 So all the people were fed in abundance, 
 and they proceeded on their journey. 
 
 The next day the people again suffered for 
 water, and the magical cup was empty; but 
 the So^'hus Wai^'V/n-ats, having been told in 
 their dream what to do, transformed them- 
 selves into doves, and flew away to a lake, on 
 the margin of which was the home of Stone 
 Shirt. 
 
 Coming near to the shore, they saw two 
 maidens bathing in the water; and the birds 
 stood and looked, for the maidens were very 
 beautiful. Then they flew into some bushes, 
 near by, to have a nearer view, and were 
 caught in a snare which the girls had placed 
 for intrusive birds. The beautiful maidens 
 came up, and, taking the birds out of the 
 snare, admired them very much, for they had 
 never seen such birds before. They carried 
 
29^ FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 them to their father. Stone Shirt, who said: 
 **My daughters, I very much fear these are 
 spies from my enemies, for such birds do not 
 live in our land ;" and he was about to throw 
 them into the fire, when the maidens besought 
 him, with tears, that he would not destroy 
 their beautiful birds ; but he yielded to their 
 entreaties with much misgiving. Then they 
 took the birds to the shore of the lake, and set 
 them free. 
 
 When the birds were at liberty once more, 
 they flew around among the bushes, until 
 they found the magical cup which they had 
 lost, and taking it up, they carried it out into 
 the middle of the lake and settled down upon 
 the water, and the maidens, supposed they 
 were drowned. 
 
 The birds, when they had filled their cup, 
 rose again, and went back to the people in 
 the desert, where they arrived just at the 
 right time to save them with the cup of water, 
 from which each drank; and yet it was full 
 until the last was satisfied, and then not a 
 drop remained. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 293 
 
 The brothers reported that they had seen 
 Stone Shirt and his daughters. 
 
 The next day they came near to the home 
 of the enemy, and the brothers, in proper 
 person, went out to reconnoitre. Seeing a 
 woman gleaning seeds, they drew near, and 
 knew it was their mother, whom Stone Shirt 
 had stolen from Si-hof, the crane. They 
 told her they were her sons, but she denied 
 it, and said she had never had but one son; 
 but the boys related to her their history, with 
 the origin of the two from one, and she was 
 convinced. She tried to dissuade them from 
 making war upon Stone Shirt, and told them 
 that no arrow could possibly penetrate his 
 armor, and that he was a great warrior, and 
 had no other delight than in killing his ene- 
 mies, and that his daughters also were fur- 
 nished with magical bows and arrows, which 
 they could shoot so fast that the arrows 
 would fill the air like a cloud, and that it was 
 not necessary for them to take aim, for their 
 missiles went where they willed ; they thought 
 the arrows to the hearts of their enemies ; and 
 
^94 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 thus the maidens could kill the whole of the 
 people before a common arrow could be shot 
 by a conmion person. But the boys told her 
 what the spirit had said in the long dream, 
 and had promised that Stone Shirt should 
 be killed. They told her to go down to the 
 lake at dawn, so as not to be endangered by 
 the battle. 
 
 During the night, the So^-kus Wai'-un-ats 
 transformed themselves into mice, and pro- 
 ceeded to the home of Stone Shirt, and found 
 the magical bows and arrows that belonged 
 to the maidens, and with their sharp teeth 
 they cut the sinew on the backs of the bows, 
 and nibbled the bow strings, so that they were 
 worthless ; while To-go^-av hid himself under 
 a rock near by. 
 
 When dawn came into the sky, Tum-pwi- 
 nai^-ro-gwi-nump, the Stone Shirt man, arose 
 and walked out of his tent, exulting in his 
 strength and security, and sat down upon 
 the rock under which To-go'-av was hiding; 
 and he, seeing his opportunity, sunk his fangs 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 296 
 
 into the flesh of the hero. Stone Shirt 
 sprang high into the air, and called to his 
 daughters that they were betrayed, and that 
 the enemy was near; and they seized their 
 magical bows, and their quivers filled with 
 magical arrows, and hurried to his defense. 
 At the same time, all the nations who were 
 surrounding the camp rushed down to bat- 
 tle. But the beautiful maidens, finding their 
 weapons were destroyed, waved back their 
 enemies, as if they would parley ; and, stand- 
 ing for a few moments over the body of their 
 slain father, sang the death song, and danced 
 the death dance, whirling in giddy circles 
 about the dead hero, and wailing with de- 
 spair, until they sank down and expired. 
 
 The conquerors buried the maidens by the 
 shores of the lake ; but Tum-pwi-nai^-ro-gwi- 
 nump was left to rot, and his bones to bleach 
 on the sands, as he had left Si-hof. 
 
 There is this proverb among the Utes: 
 *'Do not murmur when you suffer in doing 
 what the spirits have commanded, for a cup 
 
296 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 of water is provided." And another: 
 **What matters it who kills the game, when 
 we can all eat of it." 
 
 It is long after midnight when the per- 
 formance is ended. The story itself was in- 
 teresting, though I had heard it many times 
 before; but never, perhaps, under circum- 
 stances more effective. Stretched beneath 
 tall, sombre pines ; a great camp fire, and by 
 the fire, men, old, wrinkled, and ugly; de- 
 formed, blear eyed, wry faced women; lithe, 
 stately young men; pretty but simpering 
 maidens, naked children, all intently listen- 
 ing, or laughing and talking at times, their 
 strange faces and dusky forms lit up with the 
 glare of the pine-knot fire. All the circum- 
 stances conspired to make it a scene strange 
 and weird. One old man, the sorcerer or 
 medicine-man of the tribe, peculiarly im- 
 pressed me. Now and then he would inter- 
 rupt the play for the purpose of correcting 
 the speakers, or impressing the moral of the 
 story with a strange dignity and impressive- 
 ness that seemed to pass to the very border 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^97 
 
 of the ludicrous ; yet at no time did it make 
 me smile. 
 
 The story is finished, but there is yet time 
 for an hour or two's sleep. I take Chu-ar^- 
 ru-um-peak to one side for a talk. The 
 three men who left us in the canon last year 
 found their way up the lateral gorge, by 
 which they went into the SM-vmts Moun- 
 tains, lying west of us, where they met with 
 the Indians, and camped with them one or 
 two nights, and were finally killed. I am 
 anxious to learn the circumstances, and as 
 the people of the tribe who committed the 
 deed live but a little way from and are inti- 
 mate with these people, I ask Chu-af-ru-um- 
 peak to make inquiry for me. Then we go 
 to bed. 
 
 September 17. — Early this morning the 
 Indians come up to our camp. They have 
 concluded to send out a young man after the 
 Shi'-vwits. The runner fixes his moccasins, 
 puts some food in a sack and water in a little 
 wicker work jug, straps them on his back, 
 and starts at a good round pace. 
 
298 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 We have concluded to go down the canon, 
 hoping to meet the SM-vwits on our return. 
 Soon we are ready to start, leaving the camp 
 and pack animals in charge of the two In- 
 dians who came with us. As we move out, 
 our new guide comes up, a blear eyed, weazen 
 faced, quiet old man, with his bow and ar- 
 rows in one hand, and a small cane in the 
 other. These Indians all carry canes with 
 a crooked handle, they say to kill rattle- 
 snakes, and to pull rabbits from their holes. 
 The valley is high up in the mountain, and 
 we descend from it, by a rocky, precipitous 
 trail, down, down, down for two long, weary 
 hours, leading our ponies and stimibling over 
 the rocks. At last we are at the foot of the 
 mountain, standing on a little knoll, from 
 which we can look into a canon below. Into 
 this we descend, and then we follow it for 
 miles, clambering down and still down. 
 Often we cross beds of lava, that have been 
 poured into the canon by lateral channels, 
 and these angular fragments of basalt make 
 the way very rough for the animals. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN ^99 
 
 About two o'clock the guide halts us with 
 his wand, and springing over the rocks he is 
 lost in a gulch. In a few minutes he returns, 
 and tells us there is a little water below in a 
 pocket. It is vile and stinking, and our 
 ponies refuse to drink it. We pass on, still 
 ever descending. A mile or two from the 
 water basin we come to a precipice, more than 
 a thousand feet to the bottom. There is a 
 canon running at a greater depth, and at 
 right angles to this, into which this enters by 
 the precipice; and this second canon is a lat- 
 eral one to the greater one, in the bottom of 
 which we are to find the river. Searching 
 about, we find a way by which we can de- 
 scend along the shelves, and steps, and piles 
 of broken rocks. 
 
 We start leading our ponies; a wall upon 
 our left; unknown depths on our right. At 
 places our way is along shelves so narrow, 
 or so sloping, that I ache with fear lest a pony 
 should make a misstep, and knock a man over 
 the cliffs with him. Now and then we start 
 the loose rocks under our feet, and over the 
 
300 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 cliffs they go, thundering down, down, as the 
 echoes roll through distant canons. At last 
 we pass along a level shelf for some distance, 
 then we turn to the right, and zigzag down 
 a steep slope to the bottom. Now we pass 
 along this lower canon, for two or three 
 miles, to where it terminates in the Grand 
 Canon, as the other ended in this, only the 
 river is 1,800 feet below us, and it seems, 
 at this distance, to be but a creek. Our with- 
 ered guide, the human pickle, seats himself 
 on a rock, and seems wonderfully amused 
 at our discomfiture, for we can see no way 
 by which to descend to the river. After 
 some minutes, he quietly rises, and, beckon- 
 ing us to follow, he points out a narrow slop- 
 ing shelf on the right, and this is to be our 
 way. It leads along the cliff, for half a mile, 
 to a wider bench beyond, which, he says, is 
 broken down on the other side in a great 
 slide, and there we can get to the river. So 
 we start out on the shelf; it is so steep we 
 can hardly stand on it, and to fall, or slip, 
 is to go — don't look and seel 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 301 
 
 It is soon manifest that we cannot get the 
 ponies along the ledge. The storms have 
 washed it down, since our guide was here 
 last, years ago. One of the ponies has gone 
 so far that we cannot turn him back until 
 we find a wider place, but at last we get 
 him off. With part of the men, I take the 
 horses back to the place where there are a 
 few bushes growing, and turn them loose; 
 in the meantime the other men are looking 
 for some way by which we can get down to 
 the river. When I return, one, Captain 
 Bishop, has found a way, and gone down. 
 We pack bread, coffee, sugar, and two or 
 three blankets among us, and set out. It 
 is now nearly dark, and we cannot find the 
 way by which the captain went, and an hour 
 is spent in fruitless search. Two of the men 
 go away around an amphitheater, more than 
 a fourth of a mile, and start down a broken 
 chasm that faces us, who are behind. These 
 walls, that are vertical, or nearly so, are often 
 cut by chasms, where the showers run down, 
 and the top of these chasms will be back a 
 
S02 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 distance from the face of the wall, and the 
 bed of the chasm will slope down, with here 
 and there a fall. At other places, huge 
 rocks have fallen, and block the way. Down 
 such a one the two men start. There is a 
 curious plant growing out from the crevices 
 of the rock. A dozen stems will start from 
 one root, and grow to the length of eight or 
 ten feet, and not throw out a branch or twig, 
 but these stems are thickly covered with 
 leaves. Now and then the two men come 
 to a bunch of dead stems, and make a fire to 
 mark for us their way and progress. 
 
 In the meantime we find such a gulch, 
 and start down, but soon come to the "jump- 
 ing off place," where we can throw a stone, 
 and hear it faintly striking, away below. 
 We fear that we shall have to stay here, 
 clinging to the rocks until daylight. Our 
 little Indian gathers a few dry stems, ties 
 them into a bundle, lights one end, and holds 
 it up. The others do the same, and with 
 these torches we find a way out of trouble. 
 Helping each other, holding torches for each 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 303 
 
 other, one clinging to another's hand until 
 we can get footing, then supporting the other 
 on his shoulders, so we make our passage 
 into the depths of the canon. And now 
 Captain Bishop has kindled a huge fire of 
 driftwood, on the bank of the river. This, 
 and the fires in the gulch opposite, and our 
 own flaming torches, light up little patches, 
 that make more manifest the awful darkness 
 below. Still, on we go, for an hour or two, 
 and at last we see Captain Bishop coming 
 up the gulch, with a huge torch-light on his 
 shoulders. He looks like a fiend, waving 
 brands and lighting the fires of hell, and the 
 men in the opposite gulch are imps, lighting 
 delusive fires in inaccessible crevices, over 
 yawning chasms; our own little Indian is 
 surely the king of wizards, so I think, as 
 I stop for a few moments on a rock to rest. 
 At last we meet Captain Bishop, with his 
 flaming torch, and, as he has learned the way, 
 he soon pilots us to the side of the great Col- 
 orado. We are hungry and athirst, almost 
 to starvation. Here we lie down on the 
 
504j first through GRAND CANYON 
 
 rocks and drink, just a mouthful or so, as 
 we dare; then we make a cup of coflfee, and, 
 spreading our blankets on a sand beach, the 
 roaring Colorado lulls us to sleep. 
 
 September 18. — We are in the Grand 
 Canon, by the side of the Colorado, more 
 than six thousand feet below our camp on 
 the mountain side, which is eighteen miles 
 away; but the miles of horizontal distance 
 represent but a small part of the day's labor 
 before us. It is the mile of altitude we must 
 gain that makes it a herculean task. We 
 are up early; a little bread and coffee, and 
 we look about us. Our conclusion is, that 
 we can make this a depot of supplies, should 
 it be necessary ; that we can pack our rations 
 to the point where we left our animals last 
 night, and that we can employ Indians to 
 bring them down to the water's edge. 
 
 On a broad shelf, we find the ruins of an 
 old stone house, the walls of which are broken 
 down, and we can see where the ancient peo- 
 ple who lived here — a race more highly civ- 
 ilized than the present— had made a garden. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 306 
 
 and used a great spring, that comes out of 
 the rocks, for irrigation. On some rocks 
 near by we discover some curious etchings. 
 Still, searching about, we find an obscure 
 trail up the canon wall, marked, here and 
 there, by steps which have been built in the 
 loose rock, elsewhere hewn stairways, and 
 we find a much easier way to go up than 
 that by which we came down in the darkness 
 last night. Coming to the top of the wall, 
 we catch our horses, and start. Up the 
 canon our jaded ponies toil, and we reach 
 the second cliff; up this we go, by easy stages, 
 leading the animals. Xow we reach the 
 stinking water-pocket; our ponies have had 
 no water for thirty hours, and are eager even 
 for this foul fluid. We carefully strain a 
 kettleful for ourselves, then divide what is 
 left between them — two or three gallons for 
 each; but this does not satisfy them, and 
 they rage around, refusing to eat the scanty 
 grass. We boil om* kettle of water, and 
 skim it; straining, boiling, and skimming 
 makes it a little better, for it was full of 
 
306 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 loathsome, wriggling larvse, with huge black 
 heads. But plenty of coffee takes away the 
 bad smell, and so modifies the taste that most 
 of us can drink, though our little Indian 
 seems to prefer the original mixture. We 
 reach camp about sunset, and are glad to 
 rest. 
 
 September 19. — ^We are tired and sore, 
 and must rest a day with our Indian neigh- 
 bors. During the inclement season they 
 live in shelters, made of boughs, or bark of 
 the cedar, which they strip off in long shreds. 
 In this climate, most of the year is dry and 
 warm, and during such time they do not care 
 for shelter. Clearing a small, circular space 
 of ground, they bank it around with brush 
 and sand, and wallow in it during the day, 
 and huddle together in a heap at night, men, 
 women, and children; buckskin, rags, and 
 sand. They wear very little clothing, not 
 needing much in this lovely climate. 
 
 Altogether, these Indians are more nearly 
 in their primitive condition than any others 
 on the continent with whom I am acquainted. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 307 
 
 They have never received anything from the 
 Government, and are too poor to tempt the 
 trader, and their country is so nearly inac- 
 cessible that the white man never visits them. 
 The sunny mountain side is covered with 
 wild fruits, nuts, and native grains, upon 
 which they subsist. The oose, the fruit of 
 the yucca, or Spanish bayonet, is rich, and 
 not unlike the paw-paw of the valley of the 
 Ohio. They eat it raw, and also roast it 
 in the ashes. They gather the fruits of a 
 cactus plant, which is rich and luscious, and 
 eat them as grapes, or from them express 
 the juice, making the dry pulp into cakes, 
 and saving them for winter; the wine they 
 drink about their camp fires, until the mid- 
 night is merry with the revelries. 
 
 They gather the seeds of many plants, as 
 sunflowers, goldenrods, and grasses. For 
 this purpose, they have large conical baskets, 
 which hold two or more bushels. The 
 women carry them on their backs, suspended 
 'from their foreheads by broad straps, and 
 with a smaller one in the left hand, and a 
 
308 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 willow woven fan in the right, they walk 
 among the grasses, and sweep the seed into 
 the smaller basket, which is emptied, now 
 and then, into the larger, until it is full of 
 seeds and chaff; then they winnow out the 
 chaff and roast the seeds. They roast these 
 curiously; they put the seeds, with a quan- 
 tity of red hot coals, into a willow tray, and, 
 by rapidly and dexterously shaking and 
 tossing them, keep the coals aglow, and the 
 seeds and tray from burning. As if by 
 magic, so skilled are the crones in this work, 
 they roll the seeds to one side of the tray, 
 as they are roasted, and the coals to the 
 other. Then they grind the seeds into a fine 
 flour, and make it into cakes and mush. 
 
 It is a merry sight, sometimes, to see the 
 women grinding at the mill. For a mill, 
 they use a large flat rock, lying on the 
 ground, and another small cyhndrical one 
 in their hands. They sit prone on the 
 ground, hold the large flat rock between the 
 feet and legs, then fill their laps with seeds, 
 making a hopper to the mill with their dusky 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 309 
 
 legs, and grind by pushing the seeds across 
 the larger rock, where it drops into a tray. 
 I have seen a group of women grinding to- 
 gether, keeping time to a chant, or gossiping 
 and chatting, while the younger lassies would 
 jest and chatter, and make the pine woods 
 merry with their laughter. Mothers carry 
 their babes curiously in baskets. They make 
 a wicker board, by plaiting willows, and sew 
 a buckskin cloth to either edge, and this is 
 fulled in the middle, so as to form a sack, 
 closed at the bottom. At the top, they make 
 a wicker shade, like "my grandmother's sun 
 bonnet," and, wrapping the little one in a 
 wild cat robe, place it in the basket, and this 
 they carry on their backs, strapped over the 
 forehead, and the little brown midgets are 
 ever peering over their mother's shoulders. 
 In camp, they stand the basket against the 
 trunk of a tree, or hang it to a limb. 
 
 There is little game in the country, yet 
 they get a mountain sheep now and then, 
 or a deer, with their arrows, for they are not 
 yet supplied with guns. They get many 
 
510 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 rabbits, sometimes with arrows, sometimes 
 with nets. They make a net of twine, made 
 of the fibers of a native flax. Sometimes 
 this is made a hundred yards in length, and 
 is placed in a half circular position, with 
 wings of sage brush. They have a circle 
 hunt, and drive great numbers of rabbits 
 into the snare, where they are shot with ar- 
 rows. Most of their bows are made of ce- 
 dar, but the best are made of the horns of 
 mountain sheep. These are taken, soaked 
 in water, until quite soft, cut into long thin 
 strips, and glued together, and are then quite 
 elastic. During the autumn, grasshoppers 
 are very abundant. When cold weather sets 
 in, these insects are numbed, and can be 
 gathered by the bushel. At such a time, they 
 dig a hole in the sand, heat stones in a fire 
 near by, put some in the bottom of the hole, 
 put on a layer of grasshoppers, then a layer 
 of hot stones, and continue this, until they 
 put bushels on to roast. There they are left 
 until cool, when they are taken out, thor- 
 oughly dried, and ground into meal. Grass- 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 311 
 
 hopper gruel, or grasshopper cake, is a great 
 treat. 
 
 Their lore consists in a mass of traditions, 
 or mythology. It is very difficult to induce 
 them to tell it to white men; but the old 
 Spanish priests, in the days of the conquest 
 of INTew Mexico, have spread among the In- 
 dians of this country many Bible stories, 
 which the Indians are usually willing to tell. 
 It is not always easy to recognize them, the 
 Indian mind being a strange receptacle for 
 such stories, and they are apt to sprout new 
 limbs. Maybe much of their added quaint- 
 ness is due to the way in which they were 
 told by the "fathers." But in a confidential 
 way, while you are alone, or when you are 
 admitted to their camp fire on a winter night, 
 you will hear the stories of their mythology. 
 I beheve that the greatest mark of friend- 
 ship, or confidence, that an Indian can give, 
 is to tell you his religion. After one has so 
 talked with me, I should ever trust him ; and 
 I feel on very good terms with these Indians, 
 since our experience of the other night. 
 
312 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 A knowledge of the watering places, and 
 of the trails and passes, is considered of great 
 importance, and is necessary, to give stand- 
 ing to a chief. 
 
 This evening, the Shji^-vwits, for whom we 
 have sent, come in, and, after supper, we 
 hold a long council. A blazing fire is built, 
 and around this we sit — the Indians living 
 here, the SM-vwits, Jacob Hamblin, and 
 myself. This man, Hamblin, speaks their 
 language well, and has a great influence over 
 all the Indians in the region round about. 
 He is a silent, reserved man, and when he 
 speaks, it is in a slow, quiet way, that inspires 
 great awe. His talk is so low that they must 
 listen attentively to hear, and they sit around 
 him in deathlike silence. When he finishes 
 a measured sentence, the chief repeats it, 
 and they all give a solemn grunt. But, first, 
 I fill my pipe, light it, and take a few whiffs, 
 then pass it to Hamblin; he smokes, and 
 gives it to the man next, and so it goes 
 around. When it has passed the chief, he 
 takes out his own pipe, fills, and lights it, and 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 313 
 
 passes it around after mine. I can smoke 
 my own pipe in turn, but, when the Indian 
 pipe comes aroimd, I am nonplussed. It has 
 a large stem, which has, at some time, been 
 broken, and now there is a buckskin rag 
 wound around it, and tied with sinew, so 
 that the end of the stem is a huge mouthful, 
 and looks like the burying ground of old 
 dead spittle, venerable for a century. To 
 gain time, I refill it, then engage in very 
 earnest conversation, and, all unawares, I 
 pass it to my neighbor unlighted. l^croft IShrmj 
 
 I tell the Indians that I wish to spend 
 some months in their country during the com- 
 ing year, and that I would like them to treat 
 me as a friend. I do not wish to trade; do 
 not want their lands. Heretofore I have 
 found it very difficult to make the natives 
 understand my object, but the gravity of 
 the Mormon missionary helps me much. I 
 tell them that all the great and good 
 white men are anxious to know very many 
 things ; that they spend much time in learn- 
 ing, and that the greatest man is he who 
 
SU FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 knows the most. They want to know all 
 about the mountains and the valleys, the 
 rivers and the canons, the beasts, and birds, 
 and snakes. Then I tell them of many In- 
 dian tribes, and where they live; of the Eu- 
 ropean nations; of the Chinese, of Africans, 
 and all the strange things about them that 
 come to my mind. I tell them of the ocean, 
 of great rivers and high mountains, of 
 strange beasts and birds. At last I tell them 
 I wish to learn about their canons and moun- 
 tains, and about themselves, to tell other men 
 at home ; and that I want to take pictures of 
 everything, and show them to my friends. 
 All this occupied much time, and the matter 
 and manner made a deep impression. 
 
 Then their chief replies: "Your talk is 
 good, and we believe what you say. We be- 
 lieve in Jacob, and look upon you as a 
 father. When you are hungry, you may 
 have our game. You may gather our sweet 
 fruits. We will give you food when you 
 come to our land. We will show you the 
 springs, and you may drink; the water is 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 316 
 
 good. We will be friends, and when you 
 come we will be glad. We will tell the In- 
 dians wlio live on the other side of the great 
 river that we have seen Ka^-pu-rats, and he is 
 the Indians' friend. We will tell them he is 
 Jacob's friend. We are very poor. Look 
 at our women and children; they are naked. 
 We have no horses ; we climb the rocks, and 
 our feet are sore. We live among rocks, and 
 they yield little food and many thorns. 
 When the cold moons come, our children are 
 hungry. We have not much to give; you 
 must not think us mean. You are wise ; we 
 have heard you tell strange things. We are 
 ignorant. Last year we killed three white 
 men. Bad men said they were our enemies. 
 They told great lies. We thought them 
 true. We were mad; it made us big fools. 
 We are very sorry. Do not think of them, 
 it is done; let us be friends. We are igno- 
 rant — like little children in understanding 
 compared with you. When we do wrong, 
 do not get mad, and be like children too. 
 ''When white men kill our people, we kill 
 
S16 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 them. Then they kill more of us. It is not 
 good. We hear that the white men are a 
 great number. When they stop killing us, 
 there will be no Indian left to bury the dead. 
 We love our country; we know not other 
 lands. We hear that other lands are better; 
 we do not know. The pines sing, and we 
 are glad. Our children play in the warm 
 sand ; we hear them sing, and are glad. The 
 seeds ripen, and we have to eat, and we are 
 glad. We do not want their good lands; 
 we want our rocks, and the great mountains 
 where our fathers lived. We are very poor ; 
 we are very ignorant ; but we are very honest. 
 iYou have horses, and many things. You are 
 very wise; you have a good heart. We will 
 be friends. Nothing more have I to say." 
 
 Ka'-pu-rats is the name by which I am 
 known among the Utes and Shoshones, 
 meaning ''arm off." There was much more 
 repetition than I have given, and much em- 
 phasis. After this a few presents were 
 given, we shook hands, and the council broke 
 up. 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 317 
 
 Mr. Hamblin fell into conversation with 
 one of the men, and held him until the others 
 had left, and then learned more of the par- 
 ticulars of the death of the three men. They 
 came upon the Indian village almost starved 
 and exhausted with fatigue. They were 
 supplied with food, and put on their way to 
 the settlements. Shortly after they had left, 
 an Indian from the east of the Colorado 
 arrived at their village, and told them about 
 a number of miners having killed a squaw 
 in drunken brawl, and no doubt these were 
 the men. No person had ever come down 
 the canon; that was impossible; they were 
 trying to hide their guilt. In this way he 
 worked them into a great rage. They fol- 
 lowed, surrounded the men in ambush, and 
 filled them full of arrows.* 
 
 That night I slept in peace, although these 
 murderers of my men, and their friends, the 
 U'ln-ka-rets, were sleeping not five hundred 
 yards away. While we were gone to the 
 
 * The murder of the two Howlands and Dunn was com- 
 mitted at what is now known as Ambush Waterpocket, 
 south of Mount Dellenbaugh. {Ed.) 
 
318 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 canon, the pack-train and supplies, enough 
 to make an Indian rich beyond his wildest 
 dreams, were all left in their charge, and were 
 all safe; not even a lump of sugar was pil- 
 fered by the children. 
 
 September 20. — For several days we have 
 been discussing the relative merits of several 
 names for these mountains. The Indians 
 call them U-in-ka-rets, the region of pines, 
 and we adopt the name. The great moun- 
 tain we call Mount Trumbull, in honor of 
 the Senator. To-day the train starts back 
 to the canon water-pocket, while Captain 
 Bishop and I climb Mount Trumbull. On 
 our way we pass the point that was the last 
 opening to the volcano. 
 
 It seems but a few years since the last 
 flood of fire swept the valley. Between two 
 rough, conical hills it poured, and ran down 
 the valley to the foot of a mountain standing 
 almost at the lower end, then parted, and 
 ran on either side of the mountain. This 
 last overflow is very plainly marked; there 
 is soil, with trees and grass, to the very edge 
 
THE RIO VIRGEN 319 
 
 of it, on a more ancient bed. The flood was 
 everywhere on its border from ten to twenty- 
 feet in height, terminating abruptly, and 
 looking like a wall from below. On cool- 
 ing, it shattered into fragments, but these are 
 still in place, and you can see the outlines 
 of streams and waves. So little time has 
 elapsed since it ran down, that the elements 
 have not weathered a soil, and there is 
 scarcely any vegetation on it, but here and 
 there a lichen is found. And yet, so long 
 ago was it poured from the depths, that 
 where ashes and cinders have collected in a 
 few places, some huge cedars have grown. 
 Near the crater the frozen waves of black 
 basalt are rent with deep fissures, transverse 
 to the direction of the flow. Then we ride 
 through a cedar forest, up a long ascent, until 
 we come to cliffs of columnar basalt. Here 
 we tie our horses, and prepare for a climb 
 among the columns. Through crevices we 
 work, till at last we are on the mountain, a 
 thousand acres of pine land spread out be- 
 fore us, gently rising to the other edge. 
 
320 FIRST THROUGH GRAND CANYON 
 
 There are two peaks on the mountain. We 
 walked two miles to the foot of the one look- 
 ing to be the highest, then a long, hard climb 
 to its summit. And here, oh, what a view 
 is before us! A vision of glory! Peaks of 
 lava all around below us. The Vermilion 
 Cliifs to the north, with their splendor of 
 colors; the Pine Valley Mountain to the 
 northwest, clothed in mellow, perspective 
 haze; unnamed mountains to the southwest, 
 towering over canons, bottomless to my peer- 
 ing gaze, like chasms to the nadir hell; and 
 away beyond, the San Francisco Mountains, 
 lifting their black heads into the heavens. 
 We find our way down the mountain, reach- 
 ing the trail made by the pack-train just at 
 dusk. 
 
 Two days more, and we are at Pipe 
 Spring; one day, and we are at Kanab. 
 Eight miles above the town is a canon, on 
 either side of which is a group of lakes. By 
 the side of one of these I sit, the crystal wa- 
 ters at my feet, at which I may drink at will. 
 
 THE END 
 
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY— NEW YORK 
 
 OUTING 
 ADVENTURE 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Edited by Horace Kephart 
 
 Here are brought together for the first 
 time the great stories of adventure of all ages 
 and countries. These are the personal records 
 of the men who climbed the mountains, pene- 
 trated the jungles, explored the seas and crossed the desert; 
 who knew the chances and took them, and lived to write their 
 own tale* of hardship, endurance and achievement. The scries will 
 consist of an indeterminate number of volumes — for the stories are 
 myriad. The whole will be edited by Horace Kephart. Each 
 volume answers the test of these questions : Is it true ? Is it inter- 
 esting? The entire series is uniform in style and binding. Among 
 the titles now ready or in preparation are those described on the 
 following pages. Price $1.00 each, net. Postage 10 cents extra. 
 
 IN THE OLD WEST, by George Frederick 
 
 Ruxton. The men who blazed the trail across the Rockies to 
 the Pacific were independent trappers and hunters in the days before 
 the Mexican war. They left no records of their adventures and 
 most of them linger now only at shadowy names. But a young 
 Englishman lived among them for a time, saw life from their point 
 of view, trapped with them and fought with them against the Inoians. 
 That was George Frederick Ruxton. His story is our only complete 
 picture of the Old West in the days of the real pioneers, of Kit 
 Carson, Jim Bridger, Bill "Williams, the Sublettes, and all the rest 
 of that glorious company of the forgotten who opened the West. 
 
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY— NEW YORK 
 
 CASTAWAYS AND CRUSOES. Since the beginning 
 of navigation men have faced the dangers of shipwreck and starva- 
 tion. Scattered through the annals of the sea are the stories of 
 those to whom disaster came and the personal records of the 
 way they met it. Some of them are given in this volume, narratives 
 of men who lived by their hands among savages on forlorn 
 coasts, or drifted helpless in open boats. They range &om the 
 Soutib Seas to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, from Patagonia to Cuba. 
 They are echoes from the days when the best that could be hoped 
 by tne man who went to sea was hardship and man's-sized work. 
 
 CAPTIVES AMONG THE INDIANS. First of aU is 
 
 the story of Captain James Smith, who was captiu'ed by the Dela- 
 wares at the time of Braddock's defeat, was adopted into the tribe, 
 and for four years lived as an Indian, hunting with them, studying 
 their habits, and learning their point of view. Then there is the 
 story of Father Bressani who felt the tortures of the Iroquois, of 
 Mary Rowlandson who was among the human spoils of King 
 Philip's war, and of Mercy Harbison who suffered in the red flood 
 that followed St. Clair's defeat. All are personal records made by 
 the actors themselves in those days when the Indian was constantly 
 at our forefather's doors. 
 
 FIRST THROUGH THE GRAND CANYON, 
 
 by Major John Wesley Powell. Major Powell was an officer in 
 the Union Army who lost an arm at Shiloh. In spite of this, years 
 after the war he organized an expedition which explored the Grand 
 Canyon of the Colorado in boats — the first to make this journey. His 
 story has been lost for years in the oblivion of a scientific report. 
 It is here rescued and presented as a record of one of the great 
 
 Eersonal exploring feats, fitted to rank with the exploits of Pike, 
 ewis and Clark, and Mackenzie. 
 
OUTING PVBUSHING COMPANY-NEW YORK 
 
 ADRIFT IN THE ARCTIC ICE-PACK, by Dr. 
 Elisha Kent Kane. Dr. Kane vras connected with one of the 
 numerous relief expeditions which went north in the middle of the 
 last century, sailing from New York early in the spring of 1849. 
 They found themselves caught in the ice of Lancaster Sound early 
 in the fall and spent the entire winter driving to and fro across the 
 Sound frozen fast in the ice-pack. Dr. Kane's narrative gives the 
 most vivid and accurate account that has ever appeared of ship life 
 during an arctic winter. He contrihutes many important observa- 
 tions as to ice and weather conditions. His picture of the equip- 
 ment and provisions makes rather strange reading in the light of 
 our modern development for exploration purposes. 
 
 THE LION HUNTER, by Ronalyn Gordon- 
 Cumming. The author was an Englishman who was among the 
 first of the now numerous tribe of sportsmen writers. Going out to 
 South Africa in the early half of the last century he found a hunting 
 field as yet untouched; antelope roamed the plains like cattle on a 
 western range and lions were almost as numerous as coyotes in the 
 old cattle days. In the course of his wanderings with the handful 
 of natives, he penetrated the far interior of Africa and finally 
 encountered Livingston. His account of his experiences with 
 dangerous game armed only with the old-fashioned muzzle-loaded 
 rifles makes the exploits of modem sportsmen seem almost puny 
 in their safety. 
 
 HOBART PASHA, by Augustus Charles HobarN 
 Hampden. Recollections of one of the most remarkable men of 
 the 19th century. He served in the English Navy from 1835-1863, 
 after which he engaged in blockade running in the interest of the 
 Confederacy, in the prosecution of which he had many close shaves 
 but was never caught* He then entered the Turkish navy, built it 
 up and fought against the Russians. The whole book is filled with 
 thrilling adventures and narrow escapes, 
 
 LIFE AMONG THE APACHES, by John C. Cremony. 
 He was interpreter of the United States Boundary Conunission and 
 served against the Indians as Major of a California regiment 
 during the Civil War. His personal encounters with the Apaches 
 were of the most desperate nature. 
 
OUTING PUBLISHING COMPANY^NEW YORK 
 ADVENTURES IN MEXICO, by George Frederick 
 
 Ruxton. This volume describes Ruxton's second visit to America, 
 but this time he landed at Vera Cruz, from where he went to Mexico 
 City and thence north to the American border. Mexico was then at 
 war >viththe United States, bandits roamed over the country right up 
 to the gates of the capital, and Indians infested the northern p«rt. 
 Still he made the jouTney of 2,000 miles, often alone, experiencing 
 many exciting adventures. 
 
 WILD LIFE IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, by 
 
 George Frederick Ruxton. A continuation of Ruxton's 
 ADVENTURES IN MEXICO, from Chihuahua north. In the course 
 of his journey he had to pass through treeless deserts, where ho 
 sufiered much from lack of water; spent the winter in the Rocky 
 Moimtains and finally crossed the United States boundary. 
 
 THE GOLD HUNTER, by J. D. Borthwick. 
 
 He was an English artist who joined the rush of treasurer seekers 
 to California in 1851. It is a lively description of the voyage via 
 Panama, of San Francisco from its days of the bowie-knife and top- 
 boots to its development into an orderly community, of life (and death) 
 in "the diggings" and of the motley gathering of all nationalities in 
 town and camp, their toil, sports, virtues, crimes and shifting fortunes. 
 The book covers the period from 1851-1856. 
 
m^^