The Grand Canyon—Character of the Colorado River—The Water-Gods;
Erosion and Corrosion—The Natives and their Highways—The “Green River
Valley” of the Old Trappers—The Strange Vegetation and Some Singular
Animals.
The stupendous chasm known as the Grand Canyon, discovered by Cardenas
in the autumn of 1540, is the most remarkable feature of this
extraordinary river, and at the same time is one of the marvels of the
world. Though discovered so long ago that we make friends with the
conquistadores when we approach its history, it remained, with the
other canyons of the river, a problem for 329 years thereafter, that
is, till 1869. Discovery does not mean knowledge, and knowledge does
not mean publicity. In the case of this gorge, with its immense length
and countless tributary chasms, the view Cardenas obtained was akin to
a dog’s discovery of the moon. It has practically been several times
re-discovered. Indeed, each person who first looks into the abyss has a
sensation of being a discoverer, for the scene is so weird and lonely
and so incomprehensible in its novelty that one feels that it could
never have been viewed before. And it _is_ rather a discovery for each
individual, because no amount of verbal or pictorial description can
ever fully prepare the spectator for, the sublime reality. Even when
one becomes familiar with the incomparable spectacle it never ceases to
astonish. A recent writer has well said: “The sublimity of the Pyramids
is endurable, but at the rim of the Grand Canyon we feel outdone.”[1]
Outdone is exactly the right word. Nowhere else can man’s
insignificance be so burned into his soul as here, where his ingenuity
and power count for naught.
[1] Harriet Monroe, _Atlantic Monthly_, June, 1902.
The Grand-Marble Canyon Region. The Grand-Marble Canyon Region.
Scale about 30 miles to the inch.
This is not as accurate as the map opposite page 41, but is given as an
aid to the understanding of that. Compare also map on page 12.
Cardenas, after all, was only one of the discoverers. He was merely the
first _white_ man who saw it. When was it that the first _man_ recoiled
from the edge of that then actually unknown masterpiece of the
Water-gods, who so persistently plied their tools in the forgotten
ages? He was the real discoverer and he will never be known. As applied
to new countries—new to our race—the term “unknown” is relative. Each
fresh explorer considers his the deed that shall permanently be
recorded, no matter who has gone before, and the Patties and the
Jedediah Smiths are forgotten. In these later years some who have dared
the terrors of the merciless river in the Grand Canyon spoke of it as
the “Great Unknown,” forgetting the deed of Powell; and when Lieutenant
Wheeler laboriously succeeded in dragging his boats up to the mouth of
Diamond Creek, he said: “_Now_ the exploration is completed.” _He_
forgot the deed of Powell. A recent writer mentions the north-western
corner of Arizona as a “mysterious wilderness.”[2] He forgot that it
was thoroughly explored years ago. Wilderness it may be, if that means
sparsely settled, but mysterious?—no. It is all known and on record.
[2] Ray Stannard Baker, _Century Magazine_, May, 1902.
The Work of Erosion. The Work of Erosion.
The Witch of Endor and Cerberus.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
The Work of Corrasion. The Work of Corrasion.
Paranuweap Canyon of the Virgen River, Southern Utah. 20 to 30 feet
wide and 1500 feet deep and 18 miles long.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
The Grand Canyon may be likened to an inverted mountain range. Imagine
a great mountain chain cast upside down in plaster. Then all the former
ridges and spurs of the range become tributary canyons and gulches
running back twenty or thirty miles into the surrounding country,
growing shallower and shallower as the distance increases from the
central core, just as the great spurs and ridges of a mountain range,
descending, melt finally into the plain. Often there are parts where
the central gorge is narrow and precipitous, just as a mountain range
frequently possesses mighty precipices. But it is an error to think of
great canyons as mere slits in the ground, dark and gloomy, like a deep
well from whose depths stars may be sighted at midday. Minor canyons
sometimes approach this character, as, for example, the canyon of the
upper Virgen, called Parunuweap, fifteen hundred feet deep and no more
than twenty to thirty feet wide, with vertical walls, but I have never
been in a canyon from which stars were visible in daylight, nor have I
ever known anyone who had. The light is about the same as that at the
bottom of a narrow street flanked by very high buildings. The walls may
sometimes be gloomy from their colour, or may seem so from the
circumstances under which one views them, but aside from the fact that
any deep, shut-in valley or canyon may become oppressive, there is
nothing specially gloomy about a deep canyon. The sun usually falls
more or less in every canyon, no matter how narrow or deep. It may fall
to the very bottom most of the day, or only for an hour or two,
depending on the trend of the canyon with reference to the sun’s
course. At the bottom of the Kanab where it joins the Grand, the
sunlight in November remains in the bottom just two hours, but outside
in the main gorge the time is very much longer.
The Grand Canyon and Terrace Plateau Region. The Grand Canyon and
Terrace Plateau Region.
This covers an area in Southern Utah and Northern Arizona 144 miles
square, containing more marvels than any other part of the globe of
equal extent. In the lower right-hand comer are the Yosemite Valley and
the Gorge of Niagara on the same scale. The scale of this reduction is
about 14 miles to one inch. The vertical and horizontal scales are the
same. The black ribbon on the left at Virgen and Beaver Dam Mountains
is to represent Archæan formation. The Shiwits Plateau and Uinkaret
Mts. are basaltic. The Kaibab and the Colorado Plateau are
Carboniferous. Paria Plateau and Vermilion Cliffs are Triassic. The
Markagunt and Paunsagunt Plateaus are Tertiary. Cardenas reached the
canyon about at letter “A” of the word “Cañon.” Tourists now come to
the river about half way between the letters “L” and “O” of the word
“Colorado.” The largest settlement is the charming little Mormon city
of St. George, on the Virgen, north of the letter “A” of the word
“Arizona.” Grand and Marble Canyons form a continuous gorge about 300
miles long, a complete barrier to travel for this distance as its walls
are precipitous and reach a height of between 5000 and 6000 feet—4000
being about the average. The lowest portion is toward Lee’s Ferry,
upper right-hand side of the map, where the walls begin at a couple of
hundred feet and rise very rapidly, the river cutting down also. The
relief map from which this photograph was made was modelled by E.E.
HOWELL for the U.S. Geological Survey and is 6 x 6 feet.
The walls of a great canyon, and usually a small one, are terraced;
seldom are they wholly vertical for their entire height, though
occasionally they may approach this condition on one side or the other,
and more rarely on both sides at once, depending on the geological
formations of the locality. Owing to the immense height of the walls of
such canyons as those on the Colorado, the cliffs frequently appear
perpendicular when they are far from it, just as a mountain peak often
seems to tower over one’s head when in reality it may be a considerable
distance off. In the nature of the formation and development of
canyons, they could not long retain continuous vertical walls. What
Powell calls the “recession of cliffs” comes into play. The erosive and
corrasive power of water being the chief land sculptors, it is evident
that there will be a continual wearing down of the faces of the
bounding cliffs. The softer beds will be cut away faster than the
harder, and where these underlie the harder the latter will be
undermined and fall. Every canyon is always widening at its top and
sides, through the action of rain, frost, and wind, as well as
deepening through the action of its flowing stream. _Erosion_ is this
power which carves away the cliffs, and _corrasion_ the one which saws
at the bottom, the latter term, in geological nomenclature, meaning the
cutting power of running water.[3] This cutting power varies according
to the declivity and the amount of sediment carried in suspension. It
is plain that a stream having great declivity will be able to carry
more sediment than one having little, and in a barren country would
always be highly charged with sand, which would cut and scour the bed
of the channel like a grindstone. As Dutton says, a river cuts,
however, only its own width, the rest of a canyon being the “work of
the forces of erosion, the wind, frost, and rain.” That is why we have
canyons. The powers of erosion are far slower than those of corrasion,
especially in an arid region, because they are intermittent. Where
rocks take a polish, as in Marble Canyon, the scouring and polishing
work of corrasion is seen in the shining bright surface as far as the
water rises. This all belongs to the romance of the Water-gods, those
marvellous land sculptors.
[3] The introduction of this subject may seem unnecessary to the
general reader, but no just comprehension of this river can be reached
without some knowledge of the forces creating its chasms.
The “Hole in the Wall,” near Ft. Defiance, Arizona. The “Hole in the
Wall,” near Ft. Defiance, Arizona.
This kind of sandstone has the peculiarity of weathering in this way,
sometimes producing larger arches, alcoves, etc.
Photograph by BEN WITTICK.
To produce canyons like those of the Colorado, peculiar and unusual
conditions are necessary. There must exist a vast region lying high
above sea-level. This region must be arid. Out of it must rise
separated mountain masses to such heights that they shall be well
watered. These most elevated regions alone having abundant rain and
snowfall, torrential streams are generated and poured down upon the
arid wastes, where they persistently scour their beds, ploughing deep
channels below the level of their surroundings. The perpendicularity of
the walls of these channels, or canyons as they are called, depends on
the volume and continuity of the flowing stream, on the aridity of the
country through which they are cut, and on the rock-formation. A fierce
and continuous torrent, where the rainfall is at the minimum, will so
speedily outrival the forces of erosion that the canyon will have
vertical walls. An example is seen in those frequent “mud” canyons
found in arid regions, where some brook, having its source in
highlands, cuts a channel through clay or dry earth with vertical
sides, that stand for years. As long as the surface of the adjacent
lands is undisturbed, it acts like a roof, throwing off the water that
falls upon it into the main stream.[4] Thus the foundations of these
walls are not assailed from _behind_, which is their weakest point. If
the land surface is broken up, permitting the rains to soak in and
saturate the clay or earth, the whole mass becomes softened and will
speedily fall and slide out into the canyon.[5] The sides of all
canyons in an arid region are more or less protected in the same way.
That is, the rains fall suddenly, rarely continuously for any length of
time, and are collected and conducted away immediately, not having a
chance to enter the ground. Homogeneous sandstone preserves its
perpendicularity better than other rocks, one reason being that it does
not invite percolation, and usually offers, for a considerable distance
on each side of the canyon, barren and impervious surfaces to the
rains. Where strata rest on exposed softer beds, these are undermined
from the front, and in this way recession is brought about.
[4] Just as wheat flour getting wet on the surface protects the
portion below from dampness. The rainfall is often so slight, also,
that a surface is unchanged for years. I once saw some wagon tracks
that were made by our party _three_ years before. From peculiar
circumstances I was able to identify them.
[5] Robert Brewster Stanton explained this very clearly in his
investigations for the Canadian Pacific Railway into the causes of
land-slides on that line.
Looking down upon Glen Canyon. Looking down upon Glen Canyon.
Cut through homogeneous sandstone.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
In the basin of the Colorado are found in perfection all the
extraordinary conditions that are needed to bring forth mammoth
canyons. The headwaters of all the important tributaries are
_invariably in the highest regions_ and at a long distance from their
mouths, so that the flood waters have many miles of opportunity to run
a race with the comparatively feeble erosive forces of desert lands.
The main stream-courses are thus in the lower arid regions and in
sedimentary formations, while their water-supply comes from far away.
The deepest gorges, therefore, will be found where the rainfall is
least, unless diminishing altitude interferes. Thus the greatest gorge
of the whole basin, the Grand Canyon, is the one farthest from the
sources of supply, and in the driest area, but one, of the whole
drainage system. It ends abruptly with the termination of the high arid
plateau which made it possible, but had this plateau extended farther,
the Grand Canyon would also have extended a similar distance. It is
plain then that the cutting of these canyons depends on the amount of
water (snow is included) which may fall in the high mountains, the
canyons themselves being in the drier districts. It is also clear that
if, by some chance, the precipitation of the high sources should
increase, the corrasion of the stream-beds in the canyons would
likewise increase and outrun with still greater ease the erosion of
their immediate surroundings. On the other hand, if the precipitation
in the arid surroundings should increase, the wearing down of the side
walls would for a time—till covered by débris and vegetation—go on more
rapidly till, instead of Canyons of the Colorado River type, there
would be deep, sharp valleys, or wide valleys, according to the amount
of difference between the precipitation of the low lands and the high.
Where the two were nearly the same, that is, a balance of
precipitation,[6] the slopes might be rounded and verdure-clad, though
this would depend on the _amount_ of precipitation. On lower Snake
River a change seems to be going on. The former canyon-cliffs are
covered by débris and vegetation, but in places the old dry cliff-lines
can be discerned beneath like a skeleton. The precipitation there has
not been great enough to destroy the old lines—only enough to mask
them.
[6] There could be a balance of precipitation and still very little
snow- or rainfall, or they might be very great.
Pinnacle in the Canyon the Chelly. Pinnacle in the Canyon the Chelly.
About 1500 feet high. It is much wider from the side.
Photograph by BEN WITTICK.
Bad Lands on Black’s Fork of Green River. Bad Lands on Black’s Fork of
Green River.
Photograph by U.S. Geol. Survey.
The “inner gorge” of the Grand Canyon appears to have been cut far more
rapidly than the outer one, and at a much later period; were this not
the case there would be no inner gorge. It is a singular fact that some
side canyons, the Kanab, for example, while now possessing no running
water, or at best a puny rivulet, and depending for their corrasion on
intermittent floods, meet on equal terms the great Colorado, the giant
that never for a second ceases its ferocious attack. Admitting that the
sharper declivity of the Kanab would enhance its power of corrasion,
nevertheless we should expect to see it approach the Grand Canyon by
leaps and bounds, like the Havasupai farther down, but, on the
contrary, there are parts that appear to be at a standstill in
corrasion, or even filling up, and its floor is a regular descent,
except for the last three or four miles where the canyon is clogged by
huge rocks that seem to have fallen from above. The maximum height of
its present flood-waters is about six feet, proved by a fern-covered
calcareous deposit, projecting some fifteen feet, caused by a spring
(Shower-Bath Spring) on the side of the wall, seven or eight miles
above the mouth, which is never permitted by the floods to build nearer
the floor of the canyon. A suspicion arises, on contemplating some of
these apparent discrepancies, that the prevailing conditions of
corrasion are not what they were at some earlier period, when they were
such that it was rendered more rapid and violent; that there was
perhaps an epoch when these deep-cut tributary canyons carried
perennial streams, and when the volume of the Colorado itself was many
times greater, possessing a multiplied corrasive power, while the
adjacent areas were about as arid as now. At such a time, perhaps, the
Colorado performed the main work of the inner gorge, the Kanab, and
similar affluents, their deep now rather evenly graded canyons. Such an
increase of volume, if we suppose the aridity to remain as now, could
have come about only by an increase of precipitation on the mountain
summits. During the Glacial Epoch, the Rocky Mountain summits were
considerably glaciated, the amount varying according to altitude and
latitude. The general topography of the Colorado River was about as it
is to-day, and the rainfall in the valleys probably nearly the same, or
at least only a little greater. In other words, the conditions were
those of to-day intensified. In summer, then, the amount of water
seeking outlet by these drainage channels to the sea was enormously
multiplied, and the corrasive power was correspondingly augmented. When
the ice caps finally began to permanently diminish, the summer floods
were doubtless terrific. The waters of the Colorado now rise in the
Grand Canyon, on the melting of the snows in the distant mountains,
from forty to one hundred feet; the rise must then have amounted to
from one hundred to four hundred or more. The Kanab heads in two very
high regions—the Pink Cliffs and the Kaibab. Though probably not high
enough to be heavily glaciated they were high enough to receive an
increased snowfall and to hold it, or a portion of it, over from one
year to another. Thus the canyons having their origin on these high
regions would be given perennial streams, with torrential floods each
summer, compared with which anything that now comes down the Kanab
would be a mere rivulet. The summit of the Kaibab is covered with
peculiar pocket-like basins having no apparent outlets. These were
possibly glacial sinks, conducting away some of the surplus water from
the melting snow and ice by subterranean channels. It seems probable,
therefore, that glacial flood-waters were an important factor in the
formation of the canyons of the Colorado. If this supposition is
correct it would account, at least in a measure, for that distinct
impression of arrested activity one receives from the present
conditions obtaining there.[7]
[7] Some canyon floors, where there is no permanent large stream,
appear to have altogether ceased descending. Dutton says of those
which drain the Terrace Plateaus: “Many of them are actually filling
up, the floods being unable to carry away all the sand and clay which
the infrequent rains wash into them.”—_Tertiary History_, p. 50. See
also pp. 196 and 228 _Ib_.
In Lower Kanab Canyon. In Lower Kanab Canyon.
Width about 75 feet, depth 2500 to 3000 feet.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN.
The Pink Cliffs. The Pink Cliffs.
Southern end of High Plateaus.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
The drainage at the edges of most canyons is back and away from the
gorge itself. The reason is that the rains cannot flow evenly over a
canyon brink, owing to irregularities of surface, and once an irregular
drainage is established, the water seeks the easiest road. A side
canyon is formed, draining a certain area. Another is formed elsewhere,
and another, and so on till all drainage is through these tributaries
and _away_ from the brink, by more or less circuitous channels to the
main stream. This backward drainage leaves the immediate brink, or
“rim,” till the last, in its work of erosion and corrasion, and the rim
consequently is left higher than the region away from it. This effect
of a backward drainage is very plain on both sides of the Grand Canyon,
though it is somewhat assisted, on the north at least, by the backward
dip of the strata. It may be modified by other conditions, so that it
would not always be the case.
Towers at Short Creek. Southern Utah. Towers at Short Creek. Southern
Utah.
This is a part of the great line of the Vermillion Cliffs. The region
here represented possesses some of the most magnificent scenery of the
whole West.
Outline drawing by W.H. HOLMES.
The basin of the Colorado, excepting that part below the mouth of the
Virgen and a portion among the “parks” of the western slope of the
Rocky Mountain range, is almost entirely a plateau region. Some of the
plateaus are very dry; others rise above the arid zone and are well
watered. The latter are called the “High Plateaus.” They reach an
altitude of eleven thousand feet above the sea. They are east of the
Great Basin, and with the other plateaus form an area called by Powell
“The Plateau Province.” Eastward still the plateaus merge into the
“parks.” The High Plateaus, as a topographical feature, are a southern
continuation of the Wasatch Mountains. They terminate on the south in
the Markagunt, the Paunsagunt, and the Aquarius Plateaus. The extreme
southern extremities of the two former are composed of mighty
precipices of columnarly eroded limestone called the Pink Cliffs. Here
is the beginning of the Terrace Plateaus, likewise bounded by vertical,
barren cliffs. Between the High Plateaus and the parks, the plateaus
may be called, for convenience, Mesa Plateaus, as they are generally
outlined by vertical cliffs. This is the case also south of the end of
the High Plateaus where, stepping down the great terraces, we arrive at
the region immediately adjacent to the Grand Canyon, composed of four
plateaus, three of them of mesa character, the Shewits, Uinkaret,
Kanab, and Kaibab; and up at the head of Marble Canyon a fifth, the
Paria, while still farther to the north-eastward is the Kaiparowitz.
The edges of these Mesa Plateaus, precipitous cliffs, stretch for many
miles across the arid land like mountain ranges split asunder. This
region, lying between the High Plateaus, the Grand Wash, the Henry
Mountains, and the Colorado, is perhaps the most fascinating of all the
basin. The relief map at page 41 gives the larger part of it. In the
basin there are also great mountain masses, the fountainheads of the
waters which have carved the canyons. These are Uinta, Zuñi, San
Francisco, Henry, Pine Valley, Uinkaret, Beaver Dam, Virgen, Navajo, La
Sal, and others, some reaching an altitude of more than twelve thousand
feet. The highest peaks of these, and of course those of the
Continental Divide on the east, which furnish a large proportion of the
water of the Colorado, and the Wind River Mountains on the extreme
north, have snow-banks throughout the summer. To show how dependent the
Colorado is on the high peaks for its flood-waters, I will mention that
it is not till the snows of these high altitudes are fiercely attacked
by the sun in May and June that the river has its annual great rise. It
would take only a slight lowering of the mean annual temperature now to
furnish these peaks with ice caps. The rainfall in the lower arid
regions is from three to ten inches, increasing northward to fifteen
and twenty-five. On the peaks, of course, it is much greater. Almost
any climate can be had, from the hot arid to the wet frigid. On the
lower stretches, from Mohave down, the thermometer in summer stands
around 112 degrees F. a great deal of the time, and reaches 118 degrees
F. Yet Dr. Coues said he felt it no more than he did the summer heat of
New York or Washington.[8] In winter the temperature at the bottom of
the Grand Canyon is very mild, and flowers bloom most of the time. One
November I descended from the snow-covered top of the Kaibab to the
Grand Canyon at the mouth of the Kanab, where I was able to bathe in
the open air with entire comfort.
[8] I was at the Needles one summer for a brief time, and the air
seemed very oppressive to me.
Gray’s Peak, 14,341 feet. Torrey’s Peak, 14,336 feet. Gray’s Peak,
14,341 feet. Torrey’s Peak, 14,336 feet.
Tip-top of the Continental Divide whence the Colorado derives flood
waters.
Photograph by U.S. Geol. Survey.
Balanced Rock. Balanced Rock.
On Trail from House Rock Valley to Lee’s Ferry.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN.
Outline Sketch of the Grand Canyon from Point Sublime. Outline Sketch
of the Grand Canyon from Point Sublime.
Drawn by W.H. HOLMES.
There are six chief topographical features, canyons, cliffs, valleys,
mesa plateaus, high plateaus, mountains. There are two grand divisions:
the lowland or desert, below the Virgen, and the plateau, but the
topography of the immediate river course separates itself into four
parts, the Green River Valley, the canyon, the valley-canyon, and the
alluvial. The canyon part is the longest, occupying about two-thirds of
the whole, or about 1200 miles. It is cut mainly through the plateaus.
The last of these southward is the Colorado, a vast upheaval reaching
from the lower end of the Grand Canyon south-east to about where the
34th parallel crosses the western line of New Mexico. Lieutenant
Wheeler several times claims the honour of naming it (1868-71), but the
name occurs on Lieutenant Ives’s map of 1858. This plateau breaks
sharply along its south-west line to the lowland district, and on its
north-westerly edge slopes to the Little Colorado. It bears a noble
pine forest, and from its summit rise to over 12,000 feet the volcanic
peaks of the San Francisco Mountains. Its northern edge is the Grand
Canyon, which separates it from its kindred on the other side. These
and the Colorado Plateau rise to from 6000 to 8000 feet above
sea-level, and it is through this huge mass that the river has ground
out the Grand Canyon, by corrading its bed down tremendously, the
bottom at the end being only 840 feet above the sea, whereas the start
at the mouth of the Little Colorado is 2690. Yet here it is already
3500 feet below the surface at the end of Marble Canyon, which,
separated only by the deep canyon of the Little Colorado, is
practically a northward continuation of the Grand Canyon itself. As the
river runs, the Grand Canyon is 217½ miles long. To this may be added
the 65½ miles of Marble, giving a continuous chasm of 283 miles, the
longest, deepest, and most difficult of passage in every direction of
any canyon in the world. The depth begins with a couple of hundred feet
at Lee’s Ferry (mouth of the Paria), the head of Marble Canyon, and
steadily deepens to some 3500 feet near the Little Colorado, where the
sudden uplift of the Kaibab lends about 2000 feet more to the already
magnificent gorge. Along the end of the Kaibab the walls, for a long
distance, reach their greatest height, about 6000 feet, but the other
side is considerably lower than the north all the way through. At the
mouth of the Kanab the altitude of the river-bed is 1800 feet above the
sea, showing a fall in the interval of 890 feet. The greatest declivity
is about 210 feet in 10 miles, in what is termed the Kaibab division,
extending from a point 10 miles below the Little Colorado to a point 58
miles farther down. Here the smooth stretches of river are long, the
rapids short and violent. Here, also, is the “granite,” making the
walls sombre, as the colour is slaty to black. At the mouth of Diamond
Creek the river is still 1300 feet higher than the sea, giving a fall
of 500 feet from the Kanab. There is another descent of 460 feet to the
Grand Wash, and then 149 to the mouth of the Virgen. Next to the Kaibab
division of the Grand Canyon, the greatest declivity occurs in the
Uinta region, in the Canyon of Lodore. The profile of the river in
these two districts is approximately given on page 57. The average
depth of the Grand Canyon is about 4000 feet. Its width at the top
varies from 4½ to 12 miles. This is the extreme outer cliff-line. The
inner gorge is much narrower, at the Toroweap being only about 3500
feet. The river varies in width from 500 or 600 feet to 75 or 100. In
this canyon is water-power enough to run the machinery of the world,
and there is as much more in the canyons above.
Character of the Mountains and High Plateau Regions of the Basin of the
Colorado. Character of the Mountains and High Plateau Regions of the
Basin of the Colorado.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS.
Profile of the Colorado through the Grand Canyon. Profile of the
Colorado through the Grand Canyon.
Horizontal Scale: One Inch = 40 miles—Vertical: One Inch = 2000 feet.
The altitude of Grand Wash is given about 60 feet too high.
Looking across the Grand Canyon (Inner Gorge) near the Foot of the
Toroweap. Looking across the Grand Canyon (Inner Gorge) near the Foot
of the Toroweap.
Depth 3000 feet.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
Joining Marble Canyon on the north is Glen, 149 miles long, from the
Paria to Frémont River. It has but one rapid of consequence. At high
water, with the exception of this rapid, the tide sweeps smoothly and
swiftly down with a majestic flow. The walls are homogeneous sandstone,
in places absolutely perpendicular for about a thousand feet. I have
stood on the brink and _dropped_ a stone into the river. The highest
walls are 1600 feet. Next is Narrow Canyon, about 9 miles long, 1300
feet deep, and no rapids. It is hardly more than the finish of
Cataract, a superb gorge about 40 miles long with a depth of 2700 feet,
often nearly vertical. The rapids here are many and violent, the total
fall being about 450 feet. At its head is the mouth of the Grand River.
The altitude of the junction is 3860 feet.[9] Following up the Green,
we have first Stillwater, then Labyrinth Canyon, much alike, the first
42¾ and the second 62½ miles in length. The walls of sandstone are 1300
feet. Their names well describe them, though the stillwater of the
first is very swift and straight. There are no rapids in either. All
these canyon names, from Green River Valley to the Grand Wash, were
applied by Powell. Between Labyrinth and the next canyon, Gray, so
called from the colour of its walls, 2000 feet high, is Gunnison
Valley, where the river may first be easily crossed. Here the
unfortunate Captain Gunnison, in 1853, passed over on his way to his
doom, and here, too, the Old Spanish Trail led the traveller in former
days toward Los Angeles. The Denver and Rio Grande Western Railway has
taken advantage of the same place to cross. The 36 miles of Gray are
hardly more than a continuation of the Canyon of Desolation’s 97 miles.
Desolation is a fine chasm, whose walls are 2400 feet. The view on page
206 gives an excellent idea of their average character. The mouth of
the Uinta River, not far above its head, is 4670 feet above the sea,
while Gunnison Valley is 4083, showing a descent for the river, in
Desolation and Gray, together of 587 feet. Desolation is full of
rapids, some of them bad. Wonsits Valley, which succeeds Desolation, is
the longest of the few valleys, being about 87 miles, with a width of 6
or 8 miles. There is a considerable amount of arable land, and along
the river bank large groves of cottonwood trees. The river course is
winding, the current sluggish, the width being 600 to 800 feet. At the
head of this valley is Split-Mountain Canyon, 8 miles long, with
ragged, craggy walls 2700 feet high. It contains a number of medium
rapids. Island Park separates it from Whirlpool Canyon. It is a
charming little valley, full of islands, a mere expansion of the walls,
9 miles long,—9 miles of rainbow, for the surrounding rocks and marls
are of every hue. Whirlpool, 2400 feet deep, is about 14 miles in
length and contains a number of rapids, but the whirlpools depend on
the stage of water. Then comes the beautiful little Echo Park, really
only the head of Whirlpool. Its name is derived from a wonderful echo
of ten words returned from the smooth wall seen in the cut on page 203.
It is only a mile long with walls of 600 feet. At its head enter the
Yampa River and Canyon, which mark the foot of Lodore, the most
striking gorge, next to the Grand Canyon, on the whole river. Lodore is
only 20 miles long, but it is 20 miles of concentrated water-power
energy and grandeur, the fall being about 400 feet, the walls 2700.
Never for a moment does it relax its assault, and the voyager on its
restless, relentless tide, especially at high water, is kept on the
alert. The waters indeed come rushing down with fearful impetuosity,
recalling to Powell the poem of Southey, on the Lodore _he_ knew, hence
the name. The beginning of the gorge is at the foot of Brown’s Park
through what is called the Gate of Lodore, an abrupt gash in the Uinta
Mountains 2000 feet deep. In viewing this entrance the ordinary
spectator is at a loss to comprehend how the stream could have begun
its attack upon this precipitous ridge. The theory that the river was
there before the upheaval formed the mountain does not entirely
satisfy, for it would seem in that case that the canyon walls would
long ago have become much more broken down than they are. But the walls
have a strikingly fresh look, as if formed recently, compared with the
time of the original upheaval. It seems possible that there may have
been in this region some great lake which lifted the waters up to the
top of the ridge to begin their work of corrasion. Such lakes did
exist; but lack of space forbids the further pursuit of this discussion
here.
[9] The character of the Grand River is similar to that of the Green,
but the canyons above the mouth of the Dolores are not so long nor so
deep. The river also carries less water.
Pinnacles in Split Mountain Canyon. Pinnacles in Split Mountain Canyon.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
Head of the Canyon of Lodore just inside the “Gate”. Head of the Canyon
of Lodore just inside the “Gate”.
Walls 2500 feet high; river 300 feet wide.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
Pot-hole in Intermittent Water Course, Glen Canyon. Pot-hole in
Intermittent Water Course, Glen Canyon.
Homogeneous sandstone. These holes are often 10 to 15 feet deep, with
the stones which ground them lying in the bottom.
Photograph by J. FENNEMORE, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
Brown’s Park, originally called Brown’s Hole, after one of the early
trappers, is a fine valley about 35 miles long and 5 or 6 miles wide.
It is, like the few other valleys, an expansion of the canyon walls.
There is considerable arable land, and the place possesses a remarkable
climate. Though its general level is so high, around 5500 feet, it
receives hardly any snow, and for this reason was long a favourite
place for wintering cattle on the drive from Texas to California. It
was a great rendezvous, also, for the early trappers and traders, and
here stood Fort Davy Crockett, in those days famous. It was one of
those necessary places of refuge and meeting, established when the
trappers were pursuing their extermination of the beaver, which once
were so numerous in all the Western country. The river enters this park
from the solitudes of Red Canyon, a splendid chasm, 25 miles long, 2500
feet deep, and abounding in plunging waters. The name is from the
colour of the sandstone walls. Above it are three short canyons,
Kingfisher, Horseshoe, and Flaming Gorge, aggregating about 10 miles.
There are there no rapids worth mentioning, but the scenic beauty is
entrancing. The walls are from 1200 to 1600 feet, in places extremely
precipitous. Flaming Gorge, with walls 1300 feet, is particularly
distinguished by being the beginning of the long series of close
canyons. The river enters suddenly from Green River Valley, repeating
on a smaller scale the conditions at the entrance to Lodore. From here
on up to the Wind River Range the stream is flanked by occasional
cliffs and buttes, but the country is comparatively open, and the many
tributaries often have fine grassy bottoms. This was the locality of
the great rendezvous of the period from 1825 to 1835, and even later.
Looking up Green River Valley from below Union Pacific Railway Bridge.
Looking up Green River Valley from below Union Pacific Railway Bridge.
Photograph by C.R. SAVAGE.
Specimen of a Navajo. Specimen of a Navajo.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
Young Warriors of the North. Young Warriors of the North.
Photograph by C.R. SAVAGE.
Green River Valley is an elevated region, from six thousand to seven
thousand feet above sea. It stretches from the Wind River Mountains on
the north to the Uintas on the south, and is bounded westwardly by the
Wyoming Range, and on the east merges into the Laramie Plains. The
drainage exit is through the Uintas, as noted, by means of the canyons
heading at Flaming Gorge. There are here opportunities for extensive
farming by irrigation. The only other chance for agriculture on the
river, except Wonsits Valley, Brown’s Park, and a few minor places, is
below Black Canyon, in the stretches I have called the alluvial and the
canyon-valley divisions. In the latter short canyons separate extensive
valleys with wide alluvial bottoms capable of high cultivation, though
often subject to overflow. Almost anything will grow there. Vast groves
of cottonwood and mesquite exist. In the alluvial division, the last
stretch of the river, from the Gila down, cotton and sugar cane would
probably grow. This is the only division where the water of the river
can be extensively diverted. At the mouth of the Gila an old emigrant
road to California crossed, and another here in this Green River
Valley. A third route of travel was by way of Gunnison’s Crossing; and
a fourth, though this was seldom traversed, was by the Crossing of the
Fathers, some thirty-five miles above the present Lee’s Ferry. In Green
River Valley, Bonneville built his Fort Nonsense, and the region was
for many years the best known of any place beyond the mountains. The
routes of trappers and prospectors frequently followed aid native
trails, which crossed and recrossed the country in every direction,
except where the canyons of the Green and Colorado were approached,
when few lines of traverse were open across, and none along the course
of the water.
The Joshua Tree. The Joshua Tree.
Clistoyucca Arborescens. Southern Nevada.
Photograph by C.R. SAVAGE.
On the headwaters of Green River lived the Crows, who called it the
Seedskedee Agie or Prairie Hen River. The Snakes and Utes living
farther down called it the Bitter-root. Frémont called it the Rio Verde
of the Spaniards, but apparently without good authority. It was also
spoken of as Spanish River, from the report that Spaniards occupied its
lower valleys. Colorado was also one of its names, and this is what it
should have remained. The commonest appellation was Green, supposed to
have been derived from a trapper of that name. Just when the term
“Colorado” was first applied to the lower river is not now known. It
bore several names, but finally Colorado took first place because of
its appropriateness. Both the walls and the water are usually red,
though the name is undoubtedly derived from the colour of the water.
Green River is frequently as red as any river could be. After a storm
in the headwaters of Vermilion Creek I have seen the Green a positively
bright vermilion.
A Pai Ute Family at Home. A Pai Ute Family at Home.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
The Arapahos were said to range into Brown’s Park; the Utes were all
along the Wonsits Valley and below it on both sides of the river. Then
came the Navajos, ranging up to the San Juan and above.[10] On the
north side, below the San Juan, were the various bands of Pai Utes,
while on the south were the Puebloan tribes, with the Apaches, Suppais,
Wallapais, etc., while still below came the Mohaves, Cocopas, and
Yumas, with, on the Gila, the Pimas, Papagos, and Maricopas. The
250,000 square miles of the basin were variously apportioned amongst
these tribes, but their territorial claims were usually well defined.
[10] For notes on the distribution of tribes see the _Seventh Ann.
Rep, Bu. Ethnology; Wheeler’s Report_, vol. i.; _Report of Lieut.
Ives, Works of H. H. Bancroft_, and _Garces_, by Elliott Coues.
The Barrel Cactus. The Barrel Cactus.
Pencil sketch by F.S. DELLENBAUGH.
The vegetation of the area, especially that of the lower half,
possesses singular characteristics quite in keeping with the
extraordinary topography. Here flourishes the cactus, that rose of the
desert, its lovely blossoms red, yellow, and white, illuminating in
spring the arid wastes. The soft green of its stems and the
multiplicity of its forms and species, are a constant delight. It
writhes and struggles across the hot earth, or spreads out
silver-spined branches into a tree-like bush, or, in the great
pitahaya, rises in fierce dignity like a monitor against the deep blue
sky. And the yuccas are quite as beautiful, with their tall central
rods so richly crowned with bell-like blossoms, the fantastic
_Clistoyucca arborescens_, or Joshua tree, being more in harmony with
the archaic landscape than any other plant there. As the traveller
crosses one of the open forests of this tree, which is often
twenty-five feet high, the more distant ones appear to beckon like some
uncanny desert octopus yearning to draw him within reach of those
scrawny arms. The blossom of this monstrous growth is a revelation, so
unexpected is it. A group as large as one’s head, pure white, on the
extremity of a dagger-covered bough, it is like an angel amidst
bayonets. The pitahaya, often more than thirty feet high and twelve to
twenty-four inches diameter, is a fit companion for the Joshua, with an
equally startling blossom.
Vegetation of the Southwest. Vegetation of the Southwest.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN.
“To go out on the desert... and meet these cacti is like whispering
into the ear of the Sphinx, and listening at her locked lips,... and to
go out in April and see them suddenly abloom is as though the lips of
the Sphinx should part and utter solemn words. A bunch of white flowers
at the tip of the obelisk, flowers springing white and wonderful out of
this dead, gaunt, prickly thing—is not that Nature’s consummate
miracle, a symbol of resurrection more profound than the lily of the
fields.”[11]
[11] Harriet Monroe, _Atlantic Monthly_, June, 1902.
Then there is the glorious ocotillo, waving its long, slender wands
from the ground-centre, each green with its myriad little lance-shaped
leaves, and bursting at the end into a scarlet flame of blossoms
dazzling in the burning sunlight. Near by springs up the Barrel cactus,
a forbidding column no one dares touch. A little farther is the “yant”
of the Pai Ute, with leaves fringed with teeth like its kind, the
Agaves. This is a source of food for the native, who roasts the
asparagus-like tip starting up in the spring, and he also takes the
whole head, and, trimming off the outer leaves, bakes it in pits,
whereby it is full of sweetness like thick molasses. The inner pulp is
dried in sheets and laid away. Near by, the Pinyon tree in the autumn
sheds its delicious nuts by the bushel, and meanwhile there are many
full, nutritious grass seeds, the kind called “ak” by the Pai Utes
almost equalling wheat in the size of its kernel. In the lowlands grows
the stolid mesquite tree, more underground than above, whose roots
furnish excellent firewood,—albeit they must be broken up with a sledge
hammer, for no axe will stand the impact. Near it may be seen huge
bunches of grass (or perhaps straw would describe it better), which the
white man gathers for hay with a huge hoe. Then there is the
ever-present, friendly sage-brush, miniature oak trees, with branch and
trunk, so beautiful. It grows, as a rule, about two feet high, but I
have seen it higher than my head; that is, at least six feet. Beneath
its spreading shade in the south lurks the Gila Monster, terrible in
name at any rate, a fearful object to look upon, a remnant of
antediluvian times, a huge, clumsy, two-foot lizard. The horned toad is
quite as forbidding in appearance, but he is a harmless little thing.
A Kaibab Pai Ute. A Kaibab Pai Ute.
Posed by THOMAS MORAN.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
Here we are in the rattlesnake’s paradise. Nine species are found along
the Mexican border; and no wonder. The country seems made for them,—the
rocks, cliffs, canyons, pitahayas, Joshuas, and all the rest of it.
Notwithstanding their venom they have beauty, and when one is seen at
the bottom of some lonely, unfrequented canyon, tail buzzing, head
erect, and defiant, glistening eyes, a man feels like apologising for
the intrusion. Above in the limpid sunlight floats the great eagle,
deadly enemy of the rattlesnake; from a near-by bush the exquisite song
of the mocking-bird trills out, and far up the rocks the hoof-strokes
of the mountain sheep strike with a rattle of stones that seems music
in the crystal air. Yonder the wild turkey calls from the pine trees,
or we hark to the whir of the grouse or the pine-hen. Noisy magpies
startle the silence of the northern districts, and the sage-hen and the
rabbit everywhere break the solitude of your walk. Turn up a stone and
sometimes you see a revengeful scorpion: anon the huge tarantula comes
forth to look at the camp-fire. As one sits resting on a barren ledge,
the little swifts come out to make his acquaintance. Whistle softly and
a bright-coated fellow will run up even upon your shoulder to show his
appreciation of the Swan Song. Antelope dart scornfully away across the
open plains, and the little coyote halts in his course to turn the
inquisitive gaze of his pretty bright eyes upon this new animal
crossing his path. The timber wolf, not satisfied with staring,
follows, perhaps, as if enjoying company, at the same time occasionally
licking his chaps. When the sun goes down his long-drawn bark rolls out
into the clear winter sky like a song to the evening star, rendering
the blaze of the camp-fire all the more comfortable. Under the
moonlight the sharper bark of the coyote swells a chorus from the
cliffs, and the rich note of the night-storm is accentuated by the long
screech of the puma prowling on the heights. In daylight his brother,
the wild-cat, reminds one of Tabby at home by the fireside. There is
the lynx, too, among the rocks; and on the higher planes the deer, elk,
and bear have their homes. In Green River Valley once roamed thousands
of bison. The more arid districts have the fewest large animals, and
conversely the more humid the most, though in the latter districts the
fauna and flora approach that of the eastern part of the continent,
while as the former are approached the difference grows wider and
wider, till in the southern lowlands there is no resemblance to eastern
types at all. Once the streams everywhere had thousands of happy
beaver, with their homes in the river banks, or in waters deepened by
their clever dams. Otter, too, were there. The larger rivers are not
favourable for fish on account of the vast amount of sediment, but in
the smaller, especially in the mountain streams, trout were abundant.
In Green River occurs a salmon-trout attaining a length of at least
four feet. This is also found in the Colorado proper, where another
fish, with a humpback, is to be caught. I do not know the name of this,
but imagine it the same as has in latter days been called “squaw-fish.”
Side Canyon of Glen Canyon. Side Canyon of Glen Canyon.
Homogeneous Sandstone.
Photograph by J. FENNEMORE, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
All over the region the rocks are seamed by mineral veins. Some of
these have already poured forth millions of dollars, while others await
a discoverer. On the river itself gold is found in the sands; and the
small alluvial bottoms that occur in Glen Canyon, and a few gravel bars
in the Grand, have been somewhat profitably worked, though necessarily
on a small scale. The granite walls of the Grand Canyon bear
innumerable veins, but as prospecting is there so difficult it will be
many a long year before the best are found. The search for mineral
veins has done much to make the farther parts known, just as the
earlier search for beaver took white men for the first time into the
fastnesses of the great mountains, and earlier the effort to save the
souls of the natives marked their main trails into the wilderness.
This sketch of the Basin of the Colorado is most inadequate, but the
scope of this volume prevents amplification in this direction. These
few pages, however, will better enable the reader to comprehend the
labours of the padres, the trappers, and the explorers, some account of
whose doings is presented in the following chapters.[12]
[12] In connection with the subject of erosion and corrasion the
reader is advised to study the following works, which are the
standards: _The Exploration of the Colorado of the West_, and the
_Geology of the Uinta Mountains_, by J. W. Powell; _The Henry
Mountains_, by G. K. Gilbert; _The Geology of the High Plateaus of
Utah_, and _The Tertiary History of the Grand Canyon District_, by C.
E. Dutton.