THE COLORADO RIVER
"See below there!" exclaimed Jim. "It looks as if a big river comes in
there. It must be the Grand."
"Then we shall be on the Colorado River," I said. "I wonder if we will
have any trouble navigating where the two of them come together?"
"I have read that there is quite a whirlpool, formed by the junction,"
replied Jim, "we will have to be careful."
"From the appearance of things we ought to be able to reach it
to-morrow," suggested Tom.
"We certainly will if we have good luck," responded Jim.
"Do you suppose that we will find any gold or precious stones in the
country that we run into below the Grand?" questioned Tom, who never
lost sight of the practical side of our cruise.
"We stand a first rate chance," replied Jim. "One thing is certain and
that is that there has not been very many ahead of us to get away with
any valuables that might be near the river. I don't suppose that there
have been more than a dozen persons down this river since the world
first started rolling."
"Well, I certainly hope that we will find something that will repay us
for all the risks that we have run the past months," remarked Tom.
"Just think of the experience you are getting. Don't you consider that
valuable?" asked Jim.
"I have got a goldarned sore leg if that's what you mean, where that
rock hit me," growled Tom.
"You've got a sore head, but you always had that," added Jim.
"It isn't sore from being swelled," Tom retorted, bitingly.
"If I ever want a lawyer with a razor-backed tongue, I will employ you,"
laughed Jim.
"You won't ever have the money, unless you strike something soon,"
remarked Tom.
"Let's not quarrel among ourselves, so long as we have the river and the
Indians to scrap with," I suggested.
"Very well, old sox, we won't," concluded Jim, and Tom kept silent.
So peace was established, until the next outbreak.
It was the middle of the afternoon of the following day that we neared
the junction of the two rivers, the Grand and the Green. We had
considerable curiosity to see the uniting of the two great streams. We
imagined that the surroundings would be "Grand and Green" as Jim phrased
it, but we were to be disappointed.
The walls were neither so high nor so impressive as those we had already
passed through. They appeared to be about twelve hundred feet high and
were set back some distance from the river.
"We will make a landing," said Jim, "before we reach the junction of the
two streams and get a bird's eye view of the situation."
"It's a good idea," I said, "I'll keep a sharp lookout for a landing."
I soon sighted ahead an excellent place in a rocky little cove, where
the waters were quiet. Here we effected an easy landing and climbed up
on a plateau of absolutely bare rock that extended from the river to the
cliffs.
"What curious looking formation," exclaimed Jim. "It looks something
like layer cake. A thick red base then a strip of grey and the red
again."
There were low walls of this formation bordering the rock plateau and
much recessed.
"Isn't that a strange looking rock over there," said Tom, "something
like a bunty church with a round tower."
This expressed it as nearly as possible. Two-thirds of it was of the
solid red rock with the broad white band of stone placed squarely upon
it. But I cannot stop to refer to the many odd and curious formations,
that came under our observation, for I would never have done.
After a walk of about a half a mile we came to a place where we could
look down upon the mingling of the two rivers. They rushed together
equally, the Grand being the clearer of the two streams. They whirled in
a round dance as they met, forming a great whirlpool.
"We will have to look out for that," said Jim, shaking his head, "but I
think we can avoid it all right."
We returned to the boat and prepared for the descent. Everything was
made tight and snug. "The Captain" trimmed perfectly and we shoved off.
"All ready now?" said Jim.
"Ready," we replied.
We were feeling fresh and fit and were prepared to put every ounce of
our strength into the pull. We dropped easily down until we came to the
junction.
There were deep eddies carved in the water upon the outer edge of the
whirlpool, within them was the deadly smoothness moving around and
around. We could not see whether there was any central suction of a
dangerous character and we did not intend to find out by experience.
We got into one of the outer eddies and then we pulled until the blades
of our paddles bent almost to breaking, while Jim threw all his weight
and strength against the sweep to cross the eddy that was struggling to
get the boat into its slow, powerful control.
It was an obstinate, bitter fight. For ten minutes it was an even break,
then with a supreme, united effort we burst through the chains of water,
stronger than iron and forged out upon the united waters.
At last we were upon the back of the Colorado, its powerful current
carrying us swiftly along.
"Hurrah!" yelled Jim, "we're off."
Tom and I were too breathless from the past struggle to yell, but we
threw up a triumphant hand. We did not look back to see what we had come
through. That we could never do on the Colorado, for there was always
something to look forward to that required immediate attention.
"There's a big canyon ahead," I yelled to Jim. "It's got the biggest
roar of any we have met yet."
"All right, Jo," answered Jim, "we will swing off to the first good
landing."
This we found without much difficulty and we got a good night's rest to
prepare us for the struggle that lay before us.
For the next two days we had a terrific struggle with this canyon, the
most dangerous that we had so far encountered. In fact it was in many
ways the worst we were to go through on the whole trip.
There was one place we ran through that struck me with terror. We came
upon it early one afternoon. There was a sharp plunge downward of the
river and on all sides it was beaten into foam among the rocks. In the
center there was a swift, clear run, that ended in big successive waves.
We took it fairly in the middle. Jim had become too good a steerer to be
beaten now. But when we struck the waves our boat plunged as in a heavy
sea. Much of it would have made one seasick.
One big red fellow curved over the bow, knocking me forward and I was
only saved from going overboard by grasping the side and holding on for
dear life. It seemed as if the deluge held me under for a full minute,
but it was only a few seconds.
My oar was shattered and I hastened to replace it with an extra one. We
carried several for just such emergencies.
"Hello!" exclaimed Tom, after this exciting episode, "just listen to
that thunder."
"Thunder!" cried Jim, "that isn't thunder. It's perfectly clear
overhead. There is not a storm within a hundred miles."
"What is it then?" demanded Tom.
Jim listened for a moment. There was no denying the sound. It was
different from the roar of the river. A deep rumbling bass with a
grinding sound to it.
"I know what it is!" he cried. "It is the big boulders at the bottom of
the river being rolled along by the current."
"Think of the force of it," I exclaimed. "I bet they are as big as a
horse."
"Nearer an elephant!" cried Jim.
There was something appalling in a power that could play marbles with
huge rocks.
"That's what helps to cut these gorges," said Jim.
I can give no adequate idea of this canyon. It was wonderful. In some
places the walls were so perpendicular that they seemed to bend over us.
But you must not imagine that the walls were all alike, and always
perpendicular. For this was not so.
There was a wonderful variety. There were rounded summits of rocks
standing back from the river giving the effect of their full majesty.
The walls averaged nearly three thousand feet. The prevailing color was
the red sandstone but there would be broad bands of grey. Towards the
lower end the walls were shattered into thousands of pinnacles rising in
their piercing splendor towards the blue above.
Occasionally we swept past a narrow side, or lateral canyon. Our one
quick impression was of narrow gloom between overwhelming walls.
"I wish we could stop long enough to investigate some of these side
canyons," said Jim, "they look mighty interesting."
"There are no way stations on this line," I responded, "this is a
through train."
It was with a feeling of tremendous relief that we finally emerged from
this canyon safely. Battered and strained, but still alive. "The
Captain" was still seaworthy and stanch but she showed many marks and
wounds of the terrible descent.