Frémont, the Pathfinder—Ownership of the Colorado—The Road of the Gold
Seekers—First United States Military Post, 1849—Steam
Navigation—Captain Johnson Goes to the Head of Black Canyon.
The great Western wilderness was now no longer “unknown” to white men.
By the year 1840 the American had traversed it throughout, excepting
the canyons of the Colorado, which yet remained, at least below the
mouth of Grand River, almost as much of a problem as before the fur
trade was born. Like some antediluvian monster the wild torrent
stretched a foaming barrier miles on miles from the mountains of the
north to the seas of the south, fortified in a rock-bound lair, roaring
defiance at conquistadore, padre, and trapper alike.
Kaibab Pai Ute Boys Playing a Game of Wolf and Deer. Kaibab Pai Ute
Boys Playing a Game of Wolf and Deer.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
Till now the trappers and fur companies had been the chief travellers
through this strange, weird land, but as the fourth decade of the
century fairly opens, a new kind of pioneer appears suddenly on the
field; a pioneer with motives totally different from those of the
preceding explorers. Proselyting or profit had been heretofore the main
spurs to ambition, but the commanding figure which we now observe
scanning, from the majestic heights of the Wind River range, the
labyrinthian maze of unlocated, unrecorded mountains, valleys, rivers,
and canyons, rolling far and away to the surf of the Pacific, is imbued
with a broader purpose. His mission is to know. The immediately
previous elements drifted across the scene like rifle-smoke on the
morning breeze, making no more impression on the world’s knowledge.
They recorded little, and, so far as information was concerned, they
might almost as well never have set foot in the wilderness. But the new
man records everything: the wind, the cold, the clouds, the trees, the
grass, the mice, the men, the worms, the birds, etc., to the end of his
time and his ability. He is the real explorer, the advance guard of
those many expeditions which followed and whose labours form the fourth
division of our subject. Frémont is the name, since that time called
“Pathfinder,” though, of course, the paths he followed had often before
been travelled by the redoubtable trapper, whose knowledge, like that
of the native, was personal only. Indeed, he was guided in his journeys
by several men now quite as famous as himself—Kit Carson, Fitzpatrick,
Walker, and Godey. But the field was still new to the world and to
science. Quite appropriately, one of the highest peaks from which the
Colorado draws its first waters, is now distinguished by the name of
the earliest scientific observer to enter its basin. Frémont came up
the North Platte and the Sweetwater branch, crossing (1842) from that
stream by the South Pass thirty-four years after Andrew Henry had first
traversed it, over to the headwaters of the Colorado. The ascent to
South Pass is very gradual, and there is no gorge or defile. The total
width is about twenty miles. A day or two later Frémont climbed out of
the valley on the flank of the Wind River Mountains. “We had reached a
very elevated point,” he says; “and in the valley below and among the
hills were a number of lakes at different levels; some two or three
hundred feet above others, with which they communicated by foaming
torrents. Even to our great height the roar of the cataracts came up,
and we could see them leaping down in lines of snowy foam.” Thus are
the rills and the rivulets from the summits collected in these
beautiful alpine lakes to give birth to the Colorado in white cascades,
typical, at the very fountainhead, of the turbulence of the waters
which have rent for themselves a trough of rock to the gulf.[1]
Springing from these clear pools and seething falls, shadowed by sombre
pines and granite crags, its course is run through plunging rapids to
the final assault on the sea, where wide sand-barrens and desolation
prevail. Frémont understood this from his guides and says: “Lower down,
from Brown’s Hole to the southward, the river runs through lofty
chasms, walled in by precipices of red rock.” The descent
“of the Colorado is but little known, and that little derived from
vague report. Three hundred miles of its lower part, as it approaches
the Gulf of California, is reported to be smooth and tranquil; but its
upper part is manifestly broken into many falls and rapids. From many
descriptions of trappers it is probable that in its foaming course
among its lofty precipices, it presents many scenes of wild grandeur;
and though offering many temptations, and often discussed, no trappers
have yet been found bold enough to undertake a voyage which has so
certain a prospect of fatal termination.”
[1] These mountains, as the glacial accumulations began to permanently
diminish, must have annually sent a long-continued huge flood of water
down the rivers heading there.
Canyon of Lodore, Green River. Looking up the Canyon. Canyon of Lodore,
Green River. Looking up the Canyon.
Walls 2000 to 2500 feet. “Wheatstack” in distance.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
He was mistaken about the trappers, not having ventured, for, as we
have seen, there are traces of at least three parties: that of Ashley,
that of the missionaries mentioned by Farnham, the trappers also
mentioned by him, and the one indicated by the wreckage discovered in
Lodore by Powell’s expeditions, though the latter and that mentioned by
Farnham are possibly the same.
The fur trade, which up to about 1835 was principally in beaver skins,
had now somewhat changed, and buffalo robes were the chief article of
traffic. But the buffalo were also beginning to diminish. They were no
longer found on the western slope of the mountains, and no wonder, as
the fur companies _annually_ gathered in about ninety thousand
marketable skins during the ten years ending with 1842, yet it was only
those animals killed in the cold months whose pelts were suitable for
the fur business. The largest number of buffalo were killed in the
summer months for other purposes; therefore one is not surprised that
they were soon exterminated in the Colorado River Valley, where they
never were as numerous as on the plains, and apparently never went west
of the mouth of White River.
Las Vegas, Southern Nevada, on the Old Spanish Trail. Las Vegas,
Southern Nevada, on the Old Spanish Trail.
Oil sketch by F.S. DELLENBAUGH.
Frémont went over to the California region, returning through Nevada by
way of the Spanish Trail, past Las Vegas (see cut, page 137), and up
the Virgen, which he called the most dreary river he had ever seen,
till he reached the point where Escalante had turned east. From here he
followed Escalante’s trail back to Utah Lake, passing through Mountain
Meadows (1844), afterward the scene of the terrible massacre of
emigrants by a body of Mormons under John D. Lee.[2] His route was full
of interesting adventures, but it is not possible to give details
here.[3] Passing over the Wasatch by way of Spanish Fork, he again
entered the valley of the Colorado on the head-waters of the Uinta,
pausing briefly at Roubidoux’s Fort on Uinta River. Soon after he left,
the fort and its occupants were annihilated by the Utes. Crossing
Ashley Fork he climbed on the trail high up the mountain, where he had
“a view of the river below shut up amongst rugged mountains;” Whirlpool
Canyon and the Canyon of Lodore. Descending then to Brown’s Hole, he
crossed the river in a skin boat, and camped just above Vermilion
Creek, opposite the remains of an “old fort,” which was doubtless Fort
Davy Crockett. “Here the river enters between lofty precipices of red
rock” (now the Gate of Lodore), “and the country below is said to
assume a very rugged character; the river and its affluents passing
through canons which forbid all access to the water.” After journeying
to the head of the Platte, and south through the Parks, he went east by
the Arkansas, and came again in 1845 to cross the Green a little
farther south on his way to California.
[2] For an account of this unfortunate affair see _The Rocky Mountain
Saints_, chapter xliii., by T. B. H. Stenhouse. I knew Lee. Personally
he was an agreeable man, and to me he disclaimed responsibility in
this matter.
[3] See Frémont and ’49 by F. S. Dellenbaugh.
By this time the relations between the United States and Mexico were at
the point of rupture, and in 1846 Kearny’s forces moved on New Mexico
and California, the Mormon Battalion marking out a waggon-road down the
Gila. Frémont, being in California, took an active part (1846) in the
capture of the region, but the story of that episode does not belong
here, and may be found in any history of California. The same year in
which the formal treaty of peace was signed (1848) another event
occurred which was destined to have a vast influence on the whole
country and lead streams of emigrants to the new Dorado across the
broad wastes of the Colorado Valley; gold in enormous quantities was
discovered on Sutler’s California ranch. There were three chief routes
from the “States” across the wilderness of the Colorado River basin:
one down the Gila to the Yuma country, another by South Pass and so on
around Salt Lake and down the Humboldt, and the third also by South
Pass and Salt Lake and thence south, by Mountain Meadows and west by
the Old Spanish Trail. On the northern road Jim Bridger had, in 1843,
established a trading post on Ham’s Fork of Black’s Fork of Green
River, and this now was a welcome stopping-place for many of the
emigrants,[4] while on the southern trail a temporary ferry was
established at the mouth of the Gila by Lieut. Cave J. Coutts, who had
arrived in September, 1849, commanding an escort for some boundary
surveyors under Lieutenant Whipple. For a couple of months he rendered
great assistance to the stream of weary emigrants, who had reached this
point on their long journey to the Golden Country of their dreams. A
flatboat, built on the shore of Lake Michigan, and there fitted with
wheels so that it could be used as a waggon on land, was launched on
the Gila at the Pima villages and came safely down to the Colorado,
bearing its owners. Coutts is said to have purchased this boat and used
it till he left, which was not long after. The junction now began to be
a busy place. The United States troops came and went, occupying the
site of Coutt’s Camp Calhoun, which Major Heintzelman, November, 1850,
called Camp Independence. In March, 1851, he re-established his command
on the spot where the futile Spanish mission of Garces’s time had
stood, and this was named Fort Yuma. It was abandoned again in the
autumn of the year, as had been done with the camps of the previous
seasons, but when Heintzelman returned in the spring of 1852 he made it
a permanent military post.
[4] Brigham Young and his followers crossed to the Salt Lake Valley in
1847.
A Canyon in the Cliffs, Southern Nevada. A Canyon in the Cliffs,
Southern Nevada.
Pencil sketch by F.S. DELLENBAUGH.
Meanwhile a gang of freebooters, who left Texas in 1849, found their
way to this point and acquired or established a ferry two or three
miles below the old mission site. Their settlement was called Fort
Defiance in contempt for the Yumas. They were led by one Doctor Craig.
They robbed the Yumas of their wives and dominated the region as they
pleased. Captain Hobbs,[5] a mountaineer who was at Yuma in 1851, says:
[5] _Wild Life in the Far West_, by Captain James Hobbs.
“The attack which wiped out this miserable band was planned by two
young Mexicans, who had attempted to cross the ferry with their wives,
and had them taken from them and detained by the Texans. The Mexicans
went down the river and the desperadoes supposed they had gone their
way and left their wives in their hands. But they only went far enough
to find the chief of the tribe who had suffered so horribly at the
hands of this gang, and arrange for an attack on their common enemy.”
By this plan twenty-three out of the twenty-five whites, including the
master scoundrel himself. Dr. Craig, were destroyed with little loss to
the attacking party. Hobbs calls this the best thing the Yumas ever
did. It took place only a month before Hobbs reached the ferry, and
only two or three days before one of the periodical returns of United
States troops, this time a company of dragoons under Captain Hooper,
probably belonging to Heintzelman’s command. To him the two escaped
desperadoes came with a complaint against the Yumas, but the captain
was posted and he put the men in irons to be transported to California
for trial. The Yumas now established a ferry by using an old
army-waggon box which they made water-tight, as the Craig Ferry had
suffered the fate of its owners. Hobbs employed the Yumas to take his
party over, the horses swimming, and the arrangement seems to have
worked very well.
Crossing the Lower Colorado. Crossing the Lower Colorado.
Width 400 to 500 yards.
Photograph by DELANCY GILL.
According to Hobbs, the first steamboat came up the river while he was
there, frightening the Yumas so that they ran for their lives,
exclaiming the devil was coming, blowing fire and smoke out of his
nose, and kicking back with his feet in the water. It was the
stern-wheel steamboat _Yuma_, and this is the only mention of it I can
find. It had supplies for the troops, but what became of it afterward I
do not know. This was evidently before the coming of the _Uncle Sam_,
usually credited with being the first steamboat on the Colorado, which
did not arrive till a year after the reconnaissance of the river mouth
by Lieutenant Derby of the Topographical Engineers, for the War
Department, seeking a route for the water transportation of supplies to
Fort Yuma, now ordered to be a permanent military establishment. He
came up the river a considerable distance, in the topsail schooner
_Invincible_ and made a further advance in his small boats. The only
guide he had to the navigation of the river was Hardy’s book, referred
to in a previous chapter, which assisted him a good deal. He arrived at
the mouth December 23, 1850. “The land,” he says, “was plainly
discernible on both coasts of the gulf, on the California side bold and
mountainous, but on the Mexican low and sandy.” There could, therefore,
never, have been any doubt in the minds of any of those who had
previously reached this point as to the character of Lower California.
The _Invincible_ sailed daily up the river with the flood tide,
anchoring during the ebb, and they got on very well till the night of
January 1, 1851, when the vessel grounded at the ebb,
“swung round on her heel, and, thumping violently, was carried by the
tide (dragging her anchor) some two or three miles, grounding finally
upon the shoal of Gull Island. At flood tide sail was made on her as
soon as she floated, and we succeeded in getting her back into the
channel. As the vessel grounded at every ebb tide and on the return of
the water was violently swung around, thumping on her bottom and
swinging on her anchor, I began to see that it would be neither
prudent, or in fact possible, to ascend the river much higher, and we
accordingly commenced making preparations for a boating expedition.”[6]
[6] _Reconnaissance of the Gulf of California and the Colorado River
made in 1850-51_, by Lieut. G. H. Derby. _Ex. Doc_, 81, 32nd Congress,
1st Session, Senate.
The ebb tide ran at the rate of five and a half miles an hour, and the
next day they saw, as it was running out, the “bore,” or tidal wave,
booming in to meet and overwhelm it.
“A bank of water some four feet in height, extending clear across the
river, was seen approaching us with equal velocity; this huge comber
wave came steadily onward, occasionally breaking as it rushed over
shoals of Gull and Pelican islands; passing the vessel, which it swung
around on its course, it continued up the river. The phenomenon was of
daily occurrence until about the time of neap tides.”
At Howard’s Point the vessel was anchored while the party continued the
exploration in the small boat. The Cocopas whom they met were entirely
friendly. These people wore no clothing beyond the breechcloth, and
were plastered from head to foot with mud. The width of the river
varied from two hundred yards to half a mile. At one place they passed
a Cocopa village, near which lay an old scow made from waggon-boxes
which had floated down from the ferry at Yuma. On the 13th they met
Major Heintzelman coming down-stream, and as he had taken field notes
Derby considered it unnecessary for him to proceed, and they went back
in company to the ship, arriving there the same afternoon. The vessel
was then worked three miles farther up, where her cargo was discharged
to be taken by teams to the fort. Heintzelman was accompanied by a Dr.
Ogden and a Mr. Henchelwood, “proprietors of the ferry.” The Craig gang
had been destroyed earlier this year, and these men had probably
established a new ferry. While lying at this berth, the vessel was
roughly tumbled about by the tidal wave, till she broke from her anchor
and drifted rapidly up-stream. This was the highest and most powerful
spring tide, and the situation was full of peril. The captain, Wilcox,
calmly took the helm himself, steered toward the bank and ordered his
men to leap to the ground from the jib-boom, carrying the kedge anchor.
By this means the mad rush of the vessel was stopped, and by the use of
logs and cables she was kept a safe distance from the bank. When the
stores were finally landed they turned gratefully but apprehensively
toward the sea, which they happily reached again without serious
mishap.
A Cocopa Dwelling, near Mouth of the Colorado. A Cocopa Dwelling, near
Mouth of the Colorado.
Photograph by DELANCY GILL.
A little later this same year (1851) George A. Johnson came to the
mouth of the river on the schooner _Sierra Nevada_ with further
supplies for the fort, including lumber for the construction of
flatboats with which to go up to the post. Johnson afterwards ran
steamers on the river for a number of years, but he was not the first
to attempt steam-navigation here, that honour resting with Turnbull who
built the Uncle Sam.
On the Yuma Desert. On the Yuma Desert.
Photograph by DELANCY GILL.
Many of the emigrants, dreaming of ease and prosperity as they trudged
their long course across the desolation of the South-west, never lived
to touch the golden sands of wonderful California, but expired by the
way, often at the hands of the Apache or of some other cutthroat tribe.
One of the saddest cases was that of Royse Oatman, who, en route with
his large family, was massacred (1851) on the spot now known as
Oatman’s Flat, not far below the great bend of the Gila. His son, left
for dead, revived and escaped. Two daughters were carried off and
afterwards sold to the Mohaves, among whom one died and the other was
restored by purchase to freedom (1856) by Henry Grinnell, and was sent
to her brother’s home in Los Angeles.[7] Another characteristic example
is related by Hobbs, lit the desert beyond Yuma,
“we came upon the remains of an emigrant train, which a month previous
had attempted to cross this desert in going from the United States to
California. While passing over the desert they had been met by a
sand-storm and lost the road by the sand blowing over it, and had
wandered off into the hills. They had finally got back into the road;
but by that time they were worn out, and they perished of fatigue and
thirst.”
[7] For the full story see _Capture of the Oatman Girls_, by R. B.
Stratton.
They had passed the watering-place, a small pool, and as they had
already been two or three days without water, the mistake was fatal.
They had lightened their loads by casting off goods, but it was
useless. A squad of soldiers was sent out from Fort Yuma to bury the
bodies, of which eight were women and children and nine were men. The
desert has no compassion on the human intruder, and he who ventures
there must count only on his own resources.
The crossing of Green River was also difficult, except at low water, on
account of the depth and force of the current. Sometimes the emigrants
utilised a waggon-box as a boat, and the Mormons, who passed in 1847,
established a ferry. Later others operated ferries, and the valley vied
with Yuma in the matter of human activity. Fort Bridger was a place for
rest and repairs, for there was a primitive blacksmith forge and
carpenter shop. Here lived Bridger with his dark-skinned wife, chosen
from a native tribe, and Vasquez, also a famous hunter. The fort was
simply a few log cabins arranged in a hollow square protected by
palisades, through which was a gateway closed by timber doors. Simple
though it was, its value to the emigrant so far away from any
settlement can hardly be appreciated by any who have never journeyed
through such a wilderness as still existed beyond the Missouri. Could
we pause here and observe the caravans bound toward the sunset, we
could hardly find anywhere a more interesting study. There were the
Californian emigrant, and the Mormon with his wives and their
push-carts, there were the trapper and the trader, and there were the
bands of natives sometimes friendly, sometimes hovering about a caravan
like a pack of hungry wolves. There is now barely an echo of this hard
period, and that echo smothered by the rush of the express train as it
dashes in an hour or two so heedlessly across the stretches that
occupied the forgotten emigrant days or weeks. In the search for a
route for the railway much exploration was accomplished, and these
expeditions, together with those in connection with the Mexican
boundary survey, added greatly to the accumulating knowledge of the
desolation enveloping the Colorado and its branches.
A Uinta Ute. A Uinta Ute.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
The treaty of 1848 made the Gila the southern boundary, but the Gadsden
Purchase placed it farther south, as now marked. A number of
expeditions concerned in this and railway surveys traversed Arizona in
the early fifties under Whipple, Sitgreaves, Emory, and others, and the
country began to be scientifically known outside of the canyons and
their surroundings. John R. Bartlett was appointed Boundary
Commissioner, and he spent considerable time along the Gila and
southwards and on the lower Colorado in 1852 to 1854.[8] A few weeks
before he arrived at Fort Yuma eight of the soldiers there had a battle
with the Yumas and the eight were all killed. After this Heintzelman
fought them with so much vigour that they finally came in, begging for
peace. Bartlett’s first view of the Colorado was in the early morning
at a point twelve miles below the fort. “It was much swollen, and
rushed by with great velocity, washing away the banks and carrying with
it numberless snags and trees.” Never is the Colorado tranquil. As they
followed up the stream they suddenly found the road washed away, and
were obliged to cut a new path through the underbrush. This proved a
long task, so with the pack-mules he pushed on, leaving the waggons to
come later. Antoine Leroux was the guide. When they reached the place
he had selected for a camp and had unpacked the mules, it was found
that the water could not be approached because of the abruptness of the
washed-out bank, so they were compelled to saddle again and go on
toward the fort, though they had been riding since one o’clock in the
morning.
[8] _Personal Narrative of Exploration_, by John Russell Bartlett.
They were finally stopped altogether by a bayou and had to wait for a
boat from the fort with which to cross it. When they came finally to
the crossing of the river itself to the Arizona side they had a slow
and difficult time of it. Sometimes the scow they used failed to reach
the landing-place on the other side and the strong current would then
sweep it two or three miles down the river before the men could get it
to the shore. The next operation would be to tow it back to some low
place, where the animals on it could be put ashore. This is a sample of
the difficulties always encountered in crossing when the river was at
flood. From Yuma looking northward the river can be traced for about
fifteen miles before it is lost in the mountains. See cut on page 26.
Bartlett desired to explore scientifically down to the mouth, but the
government failed to grant him the privilege. He and Major Emory were
not on good terms and there was a great deal of friction about all the
boundary work, arising chiefly from the appointment of a civilian
commissioner. Bartlett mentions Leroux’s “late journey down the
Colorado,” on which occasion he met with some Cosninos, but just where
he started from is not stated, though it was certainly no higher up
than the mouth of the Grand Wash.
“Judy,” a Navajo. “Judy,” a Navajo.
From a photograph by J.K. HILLERS.
In 1852 the steamer _Uncle Sam_ was brought out on a schooner from San
Francisco and put together at the mouth of the river, but after a few
months she most strangely went to the bottom, while her owner,
Turnbull, was on the way from San Francisco with new machinery for her.
Turnbull came in the schooner _General Patterson_, which was bearing
stores for the fort. When the _Patterson_ arrived at the mouth of the
Colorado, she was able to sail easily up the river for thirty-three
miles because Turnbull was met by some of his men who had been left
here to take soundings, and for the first time a vessel was sailing
with some knowledge of the channel. The river, however, was unusually
high, which was an advantage. The wide flatlands on both sides were
inundated to a distance of fifteen miles. The current ran at a seven-
or eight-mile rate and was loaded with floating snags and tree-trunks
to repel the invader. In proceeding in a small boat to the fort,
Turnbull, in a distance of 120 miles, found but two dry spots on the
bank where he could camp.
One of the Parks on the Kaibab. One of the Parks on the Kaibab.
Photograph by MITCHELL PRUDDEN.
A new steamer was soon afloat on this fickle and impetuous tide, the
_General Jesup_, owned by Captain Johnson, who had now had three or
four years’ experience in this navigation had been awarded the contract
for transporting the supplies from the mouth, to the fort. His new
boat, however, exploded seven months later, and it seemed as if the
Fates had joined with the treacherous river to prevent successful steam
navigation here. But Johnson would not give up. Before twelve months
had passed he was stemming the turbulent flood with another steamer,
the _Colorado_, a stern-wheeler, 120 feet long. As if propitiated by
the compliment of having its name bestowed on this craft, the river
treated it fairly well, and it seems to have survived to a good old
age. The _Jesup_ was soon repaired.
The northern part of Arizona was crossed by Captain Sitgreaves, in
1851, about on the trail of Garces, reaching the Colorado in the Mohave
Valley, and following the river down to Fort Yuma. In 1854, another
government expedition under Lieutenant Whipple, with Lieutenant Ives as
chief assistant, explored along the 35th parallel for a railway route,
and when they arrived on the Colorado at the mouth of Bill Williams
Fork, they followed up the river, through the beautiful Mohave Valley
to a point some eight miles above the present railway (A. & P.) bridge,
where they crossed. Their experience was interesting. Lieutenant Ives
directed the operations, using for a ferry-boat a singular combination:
an old rubber pontoon, with the box from a spring waggon attached to
the top of it for a receptacle for the goods. This was arranged at
night. In the morning the pontoon was found in a state of collapse and
the waggon-box filled with water, but the concern was resuscitated by
the skill of Ives, and soon all was ready for crossing. Swimmers
carried a long rope to an island midway, while another was retained on
the shore. By means of these the boat was pulled back and forth. The
first trip was entirely successful, but on the second attempt the
affair was, by the weight of the ropes, upset in midstream.
“During the excitement attending this misfortune, we were advised by an
Indian messenger that another great chief was about to pay us a visit.
Turning around, we beheld quite an interesting spectacle. Approaching
was the dignitary referred to, lance in hand, and apparelled in
official robes. The latter consisted of a blanket thrown gracefully
around him, and a magnificent head-dress of black plumage covering his
head and shoulders, and hanging down his back in a streamer, nearly to
the ground. His pace was slow, his eyes cast downward, and his whole
demeanour expressive of formal solemnity. Upon his right hand was the
interpreter, upon his left a boy acting as page, and following was a
long procession of his warriors, attended by a crowd of men, women, and
children.”
Compliments and presents were exchanged and all was well. Meanwhile the
men who had been capsized with the boat were struggling to disentangle
themselves from the waggon-box, and when freed they gained support on
the rope till the entire combination was pulled back to the shore. The
whole party were finally on the island and then used the same tactics
in crossing the other deeper channel. Here they upset the ferry three
times and two persons came near being drowned. The Mohaves, who are
good swimmers, rendered prompt and efficient assistance in saving the
floating wreckage. They were also supplied with their kind of raft,
made of bundles of rushes tied together with willow twigs (see cut on
page 30), which they handled dexterously. Such rafts were and are in
use all the way from here to the gulf. By night the expedition was safe
on the western bank, the mules having swum over, and the flock of
sheep, being ferried in the boat. Several sheep were drowned, and
these, with two live ones and a couple of blankets, were conferred on
those Mohaves who had helped in the crossing. The landing-place was a
field of young wheat, which was much damaged. The lieutenant willingly
paid the moderate charge the owner made for this, and there was no
trouble; all the intercourse was perfectly amicable. But had he been
imbued with the trapper spirit he would probably have answered the
request for payment with a fatal bullet, and then would have followed a
stampede of the stock, ambush, and all the rest which embroiders the
history of the trappers with such violently romantic colour.
The Ruins in Canyon de Chelly, Arizona, called “Casa Blanca”. The Ruins
in Canyon de Chelly, Arizona, called “Casa Blanca”.
These were once connected.
Photograph by J.K. HILLERS, U.S. Geol. Survey.
The Queen. The Queen.
Pinnacle 200 feet high on Vermillion Creek.
Photograph by E.O. BEAMAN, U.S. Colo. Riv. Exp.
Two or three years after the Whipple expedition, a waggon-road was
surveyed (1837) along the 35th parallel by E. F. Beale. He returned to
the Colorado January 23, 1858, about twelve miles north of Whipple’s
Crossing. He had camped, several miles back from the Colorado, and
starting early met his clerk F. E. Kerlin returning from the river
whither he had been sent to prepare the boat. The clerk had a “joyful
surprise” in news that the steamboat _General Jesup_, Captain George A.
Johnson, was at the crossing and waiting to convey the party across.
Soon after the arrival of Beale’s party the steamboat came up to the
bank, and taking on the men, baggage, and camels landed them on the
opposite or eastern side.[9] The mules were compelled to swim over.
Then the _General Jesup_ continued down stream “towards Fort Yuma, 350
miles below.” Johnson had with him Lieut. James White, 3d U. S.
Artillery, fifteen soldiers and “as many rugged mountain men” as
escort. He had succeeded in navigating with the _General Jesup_ as far
up the river as El Dorado Canyon, about sixty-eight miles below the
mouth of the Virgin—that is, he had gone clear through Black Canyon and
thus holds the record for the first ascent of the Colorado with a
steamboat to the limit of steamboat navigation. This feat he executed
with the avowed purpose of “getting ahead” of Lieutenant Ives who had
arrived December 1, 1857, at Robinson’s Landing at the mouth of the
river, bringing an iron steamboat (as described in the next chapter)
under orders from the War Department to explore the Colorado as far as
possible.
[9] Beale used camels on this expedition and considered them a
success.
Johnson had been aware of his presence and intentions having been sent
down from Fort Yuma with two steamboats to transport certain supplies
from the vessel which brought Lieutenant Ives. He had reached the
schooner December 17th. On January 2, 1858, he left Fort Yuma on his
northward run knowing that Ives could not follow him until the
steamboat brought in sections could be completed.
Ives had entirely ignored Johnson, as well as Johnson’s skill in
navigating this river, and also his powerful steamboats. The
appropriation under which Ives was working was one which had originally
been made for Johnson, after a visit of his to Washington, but from
several causes it had been switched over to the War Department. Captain
Johnson, therefore, was determined to rob Ives of the glory of being
the first to take a steamboat to the head of navigation, and he did it
with a steamboat much larger than that of Ives which failed to pass
Black Canyon. The General Jesup, named after the quarter-master general
of the Army, was 108 feet long, 28 feet beam, and drew 2 feet, 6 inches
of water. She had exploded in August, 1854, but had been thoroughly
repaired. On this down trip from the head of steamboat navigation she
met with another accident, running on “a large rolling stone and
sinking just above Chimney Peak” some eighteen miles from Yuma. She was
raised by the Colorado and towed down to the Fort.[10]
[10] See _Wagon Road from Fort Defiance to the Colorado River_—Edward
F. Beale, 35th Congress, 2d Session, House of Representatives,
Document, 124, Washington, 1858. Also _Handbook to Arizona_, pp.
247-48, R. J. Hinton, 1878. The information as to Johnson’s
application for an appropriation to explore the Colorado was given me
by Mr. Robert Brewster Stanton. Johnson also related the story of his
“getting ahead” of Ives, to Mr. Stanton, who now has the written
statement as well. I communicated with Johnson in 1904, requesting
some data, but he declined to give it on the ground that he intended
himself to publish the story of his exploits. Since then unfortunately
he has died.