A Wonderland of Crags and Pinnacles--Poverty Rations--Fast and
Furious Plunging Waters--Boulders Boom along the
Bottom--Chilly Days and Shivering--A Wild Tumultuous Chasm--A
Bad Passage by Twilight and a Tornado with a Picture
Moonrise--Out of one Canyon into Another--At the Mouth of the
Dirty Devil at Last.
We were on the threshold of what the Major had previously named Cataract
Canyon, because the declivity within it is so great and the water
descends with such tremendous velocity and continuity that he thought
the term rapid failed to interpret the conditions. The addition of the
almost equal volume of the Grand--indeed it was now a little greater
owing to extra heavy rains along its course--doubled the depth and
velocity of the river till it swirled on into the new canyon before us
with a fierce, threatening intensity, sapping the flat sand-bank on
which our camp was laid and rapidly eating it away. Large masses with a
sudden splash would drop out of sight and dissolve like sugar in a cup
of tea. We were obliged to be on the watch lest the moorings of the
boats should be loosened, allowing them to sweep pell-mell before us
down the gorge. The long ropes were carried back to their limit and made
fast to stakes driven deep into the hard sand. Jack and I became
dissatisfied with the position of our boat and dropped it down two or
three hundred yards to a place where the conditions were better, and
camped by it. There were a few small cottonwoods against the cliff
behind the sand-bank, but they were too far off to be reached by our
lines, and the ground beneath them was too irregular and rocky for a
camp. These trees, with the hackberry trees across the river and
numerous stramonium bushes in full blossom, composed the chief
vegetation of this extraordinary locality. No more remote place existed
at that time within the United States--no place more difficult of
access. Macomb in his reconnaissance in 1859 had tried hard to arrive
here, but he got no nearer than the edge of the plateau about thirty
miles up Grand River.
It was necessary that we should secure topographic notes and
observations from the summit, and we scanned the surroundings for the
most promising place for exit. The Major was sure we could make a
successful ascent to the upper regions by way of a narrow cleft on the
right or west some distance back up the Green, which he had noted as we
came along; so in the morning of Saturday, September 16th, he and Jack,
Beaman, Clem, Jones, and I rowed up in the _Cañonita_, the current being
slow along the west bank, and started up the crevice, dragging the
cumbrous photographic outfit along. Prof. remained below for
observations for time. The cleft was filled with fallen rocks, and we
had no trouble mounting, except that the photographic boxes were like
lead and the straps across one's chest made breathing difficult. The
climb was tiring, but there was no obstacle, and we presently emerged on
the surface of the country 1300 feet above the river and 5160 above the
sea. Here was revealed a wide cyclorama that was astounding. Nothing was
in sight but barren sandstone, red, yellow, brown, grey, carved into an
amazing multitude of towers, buttes, spires, pinnacles, some of them
several hundred feet high, and all shimmering under a dazzling sun. It
was a marvellous mighty desert of bare rock, chiselled by the ages out
of the foundations of the globe; fantastic, extraordinary, antediluvian,
labyrinthian, and slashed in all directions by crevices; crevices wide,
crevices narrow, crevices medium, some shallow, some dropping till a
falling stone clanked resounding into the far hollow depths. Scarcely
could we travel a hundred yards but we were compelled to leap some deep,
dark crack. Often they were so wide a running jump was necessary, and at
times the smooth rock sloped on both sides toward the crevice rather
steeply. Once the Major came sliding down a bare slope till at a point
where he caught sight of the edge of a sombre fissure just where he
must land. He could not see its width; he could not return, and there he
hung. Luckily I was where by another path I could quickly reach the
rock below, and I saw that the crevice was not six inches wide, and I
shouted the joyful news. Steward had not come up with us, but had
succeeded in ascending through a narrow crevice below camp. He soon
arrived within speaking distance, but there he was foiled by a crack too
wide to jump, and he had to remain a stranger to us the rest of the day.
At a little distance back from the brink these crevices were not so
numerous nor so wide, and there we discovered a series of extremely
pretty "parks" lost amidst the million turreted rocks. I made a pencil
sketch looking out into this Sinav-to-weap, as the Major called it from
information obtained from the Utes.[16] Beaman secured a number of
photographs, but not all that were desired, and, as we did not have
rations for stopping on the summit, we went back to camp and made the
climb again the next day. Fortunately the recent rains had filled many
hollows in the bare rock, forming pockets of delicious, pure water,
where we could drink, but on a hot and dry summer's day travelling here
would be intolerable, if not impossible. Fragments of arrow-heads, chips
of chalcedony, and quantities of potsherds scattered around proved that
our ancient Shinumos had known the region well. Doubtless some of their
old trails would lead to large and deep water-pockets. There are
pot-holes in this bare sandstone of enormous size, often several feet in
depth and of similar diameter, which become filled with rain-water that
lasts a long time. The Shinumos had numerous dwellings all through this
country, with trails leading from place to place, highways and byways.
The following day the Major and Jones climbed out on the side opposite
camp, that is on the east side, where they found an old trail and
evidences of camping during the summer just closed, probably by the
Utes. That night, Jones, in attempting to enter our boat in the
moonlight, stepped on the corner of the hatch of the middle cabin, which
was not on securely; it tipped, and he was thrown in such a way as to
severely injure his leg below the knee. This was the first mishap thus
far to any one of the party.
The Major entertained some idea of making a boat trip up the Grand, but
he abandoned it, and we prepared for the work ahead. The rations, which
were now fallen to poverty bulk, were carefully overhauled and evenly
distributed among the boats, so that the wrecking of any one would not
deprive us of more than a portion of each article. The amount for daily
use was also determined; of the bacon we were to have at a meal only
half the usual quantity. We knew Cataract Canyon was rough, but by this
time we were in excellent training and thoroughly competent for the kind
of navigation required; ready for anything that strong boats like ours
could live through. At ten o'clock on Tuesday, September 19th, the
cabins were all packed, the life preservers were inflated, and casting
off from Camp 62 we were borne down with the swift current. The water
was muddy, of a coffee-and-cream colour, and the river was falling. Not
far below our camp we saw a beaten trail coming down a singular canyon
on the left or east side, showing again that the natives understood the
way in to the Junction.[17] We knew it was not far to rapids, as we had
seen two heavy ones from the brink above, and we soon heard the familiar
roar of plunging water, a sound which had been absent since the end of
Gray Canyon. Presently we were bearing down on the first one, looking
for the way to pass it. On landing at the head it was seen to be a
rather rough place, and it was deemed advisable to avoid running it. The
boats were carefully let down by lines and we went on. In a short
distance we reached a second rapid, where we decided to repeat the
operation that took us past the other, but these two let-downs consumed
much time and gave us hard work. The water was cold, we were wet and
hungry, and when we arrived at a third that was more forbidding than the
ones above we halted for dinner at its beginning. The muddy water boomed
and plunged over innumerable rocks--a mad, irresistible flood. So great
was the declivity of the river bed that boulders were rolled along under
water with a sound like distant thunder. We had noticed this also in
Lodore, but in Cataract it was more common. The rumbling was
particularly noticeable if one were standing in the water, as we so
continually were. After dinner the boats were lowered past the rapid,
but we had no respite, for presently we came upon another big one, then
another, and another, and then still another, all following quickly and
giving us plenty of extremely hard work, for we would not risk the boats
in any of them. When these were behind us we went on a distance and came
to one that we ran, and then, wet through and shivering till our teeth
chattered, as well as being hungry and tired, every one was glad to hear
the decision to go into camp when we arrived at the top of another very
ugly pair of them. The canyon having a north and south trend and it
being autumn, the sun disappeared early so far as we were concerned; the
shadows were deep, the mountain air was penetrating. As soon as possible
our soaking river garments were thrown off, the dry clothing from the
rubber bags was put on, the limited bacon was sending its fragrance into
the troubled air, the bread took on a nice deep brown in the Dutch oven,
the coffee's aromatic steam drifted from the fire, and warm and
comfortable we sat down to the welcome though meagre meal. The rule was
three little strips of bacon, a chunk of bread about the size of one's
fist, and coffee without stint for each man three times a day. Sugar was
a scarce article, and I learned to like coffee without it so well that I
have never taken it with sugar since. The "Tirtaan Aigles" needed now
all the muscle and energy they could command, and an early hour found
every man sound asleep. The record for the first day in Cataract Canyon
was nine miles, with eight bad rapids or cataracts, as they might
properly be called, and out of the eight we ran but one.[18] The river
was about 250 feet wide.
[Illustration: Clement Powell
Cataract Canyon.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871]
The Major decided the next morning that he would try to get out on the
right, and he took me with him. We had no great trouble in reaching the
plateau at an elevation of eighteen hundred feet above the river, where
we could see an immense area of unknown country. The broken and
pinnacled character was not so marked as it had been at the Junction,
but it was still a strange, barren land. We expected to find
water-pockets on the top, and we had carried with us only one quart
canteen of water. While the Major was taking notes from the summit of a
butte, I made a zealous search for water, but not a drop could I find;
every hole was dry. The sun burned down from a clear sky that melted
black into eternal space. The yellow sand threw the hot rays upward, and
so also did the smooth bare rock. No bird, no bee, no thing of life
could be seen. I came to a whitish cliff upon which I thought there
might be water-pockets, and I mounted by a steep slope of broken stones.
Suddenly, almost within touch, I saw before me a golden yellow
rattlesnake gliding upward in the direction I was going along the cliff
wall. I killed it with a stone, and cut off the rattles and continued my
reconnaissance. At length I gave up the search. By the time I had
returned to the foot of the butte on which the Major was making his
observations, the heat had exhausted me till I was obliged to rest a few
moments before ascending the sixty feet to where he was. I had carried
the canteen all the time, and the water in it was hot from exposure to
the sun. The Major bade me rest while he made a little fire, and by the
aid of a can and ground coffee we had brought he made a strong decoction
with the whole quart. This gave us two cups apiece, and we had some
bread to go with it. The effect was magical. My fatigue vanished. I felt
equal to anything, and we began the return.
The Major having no right arm, he sometimes got in a difficult situation
when climbing, if his right side came against a smooth surface where
there was nothing opposite. We had learned to go down by the same route
followed up, because otherwise one is never sure of arriving at the
bottom, as a ledge half-way down might compel a return to the summit. We
remembered that at one point there was no way for him to hold on, the
cliff being smooth on the right, while on the left was empty air, with a
sheer drop of several hundred feet. The footing too was narrow. I
climbed down first, and, bracing myself below with my back to the abyss,
I was able to plant my right foot securely in such a manner that my
right knee formed a solid step for him at the critical moment. On this
improvised step he placed his left foot, and in a twinkling had made the
passage in safety.
During our absence the men below had been at work. Camp was moved down
the river some three quarters of a mile, while the boats had been
lowered past the ugly pair of rapids, and were moored at the camp below
the second. In one the current had "got the bulge," as we called it, on
the men on the line; that is, the powerful current had hit the bow in
such a way that the boat took the diagonal of forces and travelled up
and out into the river. For the men it was either let go or be pulled
in. They let go, and the boat dashed down with her cargo on board.
Fortune was on our side. She went through without injury and shot into
an eddy below. With all speed the men rushed down, and Jack, plunging
in, swam to her and got on before she could take a fresh start. It was a
narrow escape, but it taught a lesson that was not forgotten. Prof. had
succeeded in getting some observations, and all was well. It was bean
day, too, according to our calendar, and all hands had a treat.
By eight o'clock the next morning, Thursday, September 21st, we were on
the way again, with the boats "close reefed," as it were, for trouble,
but one, two, three and one half miles slid easily behind. Then, as if
to make up for this bit of leniency, six rapids came in close
succession, though they were of a kind that we could safely run, and all
the boats went flying through them without a mishap of any kind. The
next was a plunger so mixed up with rocks that we made a let-down and
again proceeded a short distance before we were halted by one more of
the same sort, though we were able to run the lower portion of it. A
little below this we met a friendly drop, and whizzed through its rush
and roar in triumph. But there was nothing triumphant about the one
which followed, so far as our work was concerned. We manoeuvred past
it with much difficulty only to find ourselves upon two more bad ones.
Bad as they were, they were nevertheless runable, and away we dashed
with breakneck speed, certainly not less than twenty miles an hour, down
both of them, to land on the left immediately at the beginning of a
great and forbidding descent. These let-downs were difficult, often
requiring all hands to each boat, except the Major, whose one-armed
condition made it too hard for him to assist in the midst of rocks and
rushing water, where one had to be very nimble and leap and balance with
exactness. Two good arms were barely sufficient. Sometimes, in order to
pass the gigantic boulders that stretched far off from the shore, the
boat had to be shot around and hauled in below, an operation requiring
skill, strength, and celerity.
The walls, very craggy at the top, increased in altitude till they were
now about sixteen hundred feet, separated from each other by one third
of a mile. The flaring character of the upper miles of the canyon began
to change to a narrower gorge, the cliffs showing a nearer approach to
verticality. At the head of the forbidding plunge we had our slice of
bacon, with bread and coffee, and then we fought our way down alongside
amongst immense boulders and roaring water. It was an exceedingly hard
place to vanquish, and required two and a half hours of the most violent
exertion to accomplish it. All were necessary to handle each boat.
Hardly had we passed beyond the turmoil of its fierce opposition than we
fell upon another scarcely less antagonistic, but yet apparently so free
from rocks that the Major concluded it could be run. At the outset our
boat struck on a concealed rock, and for a moment it seemed that we
might capsize, but luckily she righted, swung free, and swept down with
no further trouble. The _Nell_ struck the same rock and so did the
_Cañonita_, but neither was injured or even halted. These boats were
somewhat lighter than ours, having one man less in each, and therefore
did not hit the rock so hard. The boats were now heavy from being
water-soaked, for the paint was gone from the bottoms. This would have
made no difference in any ordinary waters, but it did here, where we
were obliged to lift them so constantly.
This was an extremely rough and wet day's work, and the moment the great
cliffs cut off the warmth of the direct sun we were thrown suddenly from
summer to winter, and our saturated clothing, uncomfortably cool in
sunlight, became icy with the evaporation and the cold shadow-air. We
turned blue, and no matter how firmly I tried to shut my teeth they
rattled like a pair of castanets. Though it was only half-past three,
the Major decided to camp as soon as he saw this effect, much as we had
need to push on. We landed on the right, and were soon revived by dry
clothes and a big fire of driftwood. We had made during the day a total
distance of a trifle less than seven miles, one and three quarters since
dinner. There were fourteen rapids and cataracts, nine of which we ran,
on a river about two hundred feet wide. We had sand to sleep on, but all
around us were rocks, rocks, rocks, with the mighty bounding cliffs
lifting up to the sky. Our books for the time being were not disturbed,
but Whittier's lines, read further up, seemed here exactly appropriate
to the Colorado:
"Hurrying down to its grave, the sea,
And slow through the rock its pathway hewing!
Far down, through the mist of the falling river,
Which rises up like an incense ever,
The splintered points of the crags are seen,
With water howling and vexed between,
While the scooping whirl of the pool beneath
Seems an open throat, with its granite teeth!"
It was not long before the blankets were taken from the rubber bags and
spread on the sand, and the rapids, the rocks, and all our troubles were
forgotten.
The next day was almost a repetition of the preceding one. We began by
running a graceful little rapid, just beyond which we came to a very bad
place. The river was narrow and deep, with a high velocity, and the
channel was filled with enormous rocks. Two hours of the hardest kind of
work in and out of the water, climbing over gigantic boulders along the
bank, lifting the boats and sliding them on driftwood skids, tugging,
pulling, shoving every minute with might and main put us at the bottom.
No sooner were we past this one than we engaged in a similar battle with
another of the same nature, and below it we stopped for dinner, amidst
some huge boulders under a hackberry tree, near another roarer. One of
these cataracts had a fall of not less than twenty feet in six hundred,
which gave the water terrific force and violence. The canyon walls
closed in more and more and ran up to two thousand feet, apparently
nearly vertical as one looked up at them, but there was always plenty of
space for landings and camps. Opposite the noon camp we could see to a
height beyond of at least three thousand feet. We were in the heart of
another great plateau. After noon we attacked the very bad rapid beside
whose head we had eaten, and it was half-past three when we had finished
it. The boats had been considerably pounded and there was a hole in the
_Dean_, and a plank sprung in the _Nell_ so that her middle cabin was
half full of water. The iron strip on the _Dean's_ keel was breaking
off. Repairs were imperative, and on the right, near the beginning of
one of the worst falls we had yet seen, we went into camp for the rest
of the day. With false ribs made from oars we strengthened the boats and
put them in condition for another day's hammering. It seemed as if we
must have gone this day quite a long distance, but on footing up it was
found to be no more than a mile and a quarter. Darkness now fell early
and big driftwood fires made the evenings cheerful. There was a vast
amount of driftwood in tremendous piles, trees, limbs, boughs, railroad
ties; a great mixture of all kinds, some of it lying full fifty feet
above the present level of the river. There were large and small
tree-trunks battered and limbless, the ends pounded to a spongy mass of
splinters. Our bright fires enabled us to read, or to write up notes and
diaries. I think each one but the Major and Andy kept a diary and
faithfully wrote it up. Jack occasionally gave us a song or two from the
repertory already described, and Steward did not forget the mouth-organ,
but through the hardest part of Cataract Canyon we were usually tired
enough to take to our blankets early.
In the morning we began the day by running a little rapid between our
camp and the big one that we saw from there, and then we had to exert
some careful engineering to pass below by means of the lines. This
accomplished we found a repetition of the same kind of work necessary
almost immediately, at the next rapid. In places we had to lift the
boats out and slide them along on driftwood skids. These rapids were
largely formed by enormous rocks which had fallen from the cliffs, and
over, around, and between these it was necessary to manoeuvre the
boats by lines to avoid the furious waters of the outer river. After
dinner we arrived at a descent which at first glance seemed as bad as
anything we had met in the morning but an examination showed a prospect
of a successful run through it. The fall was nearly twenty feet in about
as many yards. The Major and Prof. examined it long and carefully. A
successful run would take two minutes, while a let-down would occupy us
for at least two hours and it had some difficult points. They hesitated
about running the place, for they would not take a risk that was not
necessary, but finally they concluded it could be safely accomplished,
and we pulled the _Dean_ as quickly as possible into the middle of the
river and swung down into it. On both sides the water was hammered to
foam amidst great boulders and the roar as usual was deafening. Just
through the centre was a clean, clear chute followed by a long tail of
waves breaking and snapping like some demon's jaws. As we struck into
them they swept over us like combers on the beach in a great storm. It
seemed to me here and at other similar places that we went through some
of the waves like a needle and jumped to the top of others, to balance
half-length out of water for an instant before diving to another trough.
Being in the very bow the waves, it appeared to me, sometimes completely
submerged me and almost took my breath away with the sudden impact. At
any rate it was lively work, with a current of fifteen or eighteen miles
an hour. Beaman had stationed himself where he could get a negative of
us ploughing through these breakers, but his wet-plates were too slow
and he had no success. After this came a place which permitted no such
jaunty treatment. It was in fact three or four rapids following each
other so closely that, though some might be successfully run, the last
was not safe, and no landing could be made at its head, so a very long
let-down was obligatory; but it was an easy one, for each crew could
take its own boat down without help from the others. Then, tired, wet,
and cold as usual, we landed on the left in a little cove where there
was a sandy beach for our Camp 67. We had made less than four miles, in
which distance there were six rapids, only two of which we ran. At
another stage of water the number and character of these rapids would be
changed; some would be easier at higher water, some harder, and the same
would be true of lower water. Rapids also change their character from
time to time as rocks are shifted along the bottom and more rocks fall
from the cliffs or are brought in by side floods. The walls were now
about two thousand feet, of limestone, with a reddish stain, and they
were so near together that the sun shone to the bottom only during the
middle hours of the day in September.
It was now September 24th; a bright and beautiful Sunday broke, the sky
above clear and tranquil, the river below foaming and fuming between the
ragged walls in one continuous rapid with merely variations of descent.
In three quarters of a mile we arrived before the greatest portion of
the declivity, where, though there seemed to be a clear chute, we did
not consider it advisable to make the run because of conditions
following; neither could we make a regular let-down or a portage. The
least risky method was to carry a line down and when all was ready start
the boat in at the top alone. In this way when she had gone through, the
men on the line below were able to bring her up and haul her in before
reaching the next bad plunge. There was no quiet river anywhere; nothing
but rushing, swirling, plunging water and rocks. We got past the bad
spot successfully and went on making one let-down after another for
about four miles, when we halted at noon for the rest of the day, well
satisfied with our progress though in distance it appeared so slight.
The afternoon was spent in repairing boats, working up notes, and taking
observations. The cliffs were now some 2500 feet in height, ragged and
broken on their faces, but close together, the narrowest deep chasm we
had seen. It was truly a terrible place, with the fierce river, the
giant walls, and the separation from any known path to the outer world.
I thought of the Major's first trip, when it was not known what kind of
waters were here. Vertical and impassable falls might easily have barred
his way and cataracts behind prevented return, so that here in a death
trap they would have been compelled to plunge into the river or wait for
starvation. Happly he had encountered no such conditions.
An interesting feature of this canyon was the manner in which huge
masses of rock lying in the river had been ground into each other by the
force of the current. One block of sandstone, weighing not less than six
hundred tons, being thirty or forty feet long by twenty feet square, had
been oscillated till the limestone boulders on which it rested had
ground into it at least two feet, fitting closely. Another enormous
piece was slowly and regularly rocking as the furious current beat upon
it, and one could feel the movement distinctly. A good night's sleep
made all of us fresh again, and we began the Monday early. Some worked
on the boats, while Beaman and Clem went up "Gypsum" Canyon, as Steward
named it, for views, and the Major and I climbed out for topographic
observations. We reached an altitude above camp of 3135 feet at a point
seven or eight miles back from the brink. The view in all directions
was beyond words to describe. Mountains and mountains, canyons, cliffs,
pinnacles, buttes surrounded us as far as we could see, and the range
was extensive. The Sierra La Sal, the Sierra Abajo, and other short
ranges lay blue in the distance, while comparatively near in the
south-west rose the five beautiful peaks just beyond the mouth of the
Dirty Devil, composing the unknown range before mentioned. At noon we
made coffee, had lunch, and then went on. It was four o'clock by the
time we concluded to start back, and darkness overtook us before we were
fairly down the cliffs, but there was a bright moon, and by its aid we
reached camp.
At half-past eight in the morning of September 26th we were again
working our way down the torrential river. Anybody who tries to go
through here in any haphazard fashion will surely come to grief. It is a
passage that can safely be made only with the most extreme caution. The
walls grew straighter, and they grew higher till the gorge assumed
proportions that seemed to me the acme of the stupendous and
magnificent. The scenery may not have been beautiful in the sense that
an Alpine lake is beautiful, but in the exhibition of the power and
majesty of nature it was sublime. There was the same general barrenness:
only a few hackberry trees, willows, and a cottonwood or two along the
margin of the river made up the vegetation. Our first task was a
difficult let-down, which we accomplished safely, to find that we could
run two rapids following it and half of another, landing then to
complete it by a let-down. Then came a very sharp drop that we ran,
which put us before another easy one, that was followed by a difficult
bit of navigation through a bad descent, after which we stopped for
dinner on the right at the head of another rapid. The cliffs now on both
sides were about 2800 feet, one quarter mile wide at top, and in places
striking me as being perpendicular, especially in the outer curve of the
bends. The boats seemed to be scarcely more than chips on the sweeping
current and we not worth mentioning. During the afternoon we halted a
number of times for Beaman to make photographs, but the proportions were
almost too great for any camera. The foreground parts are always
magnified, while the distances are diminished, till the view is not that
which the eye perceives. Before stopping for the night we ran three
more rapids, and camped on the right on a sandbank at the head of
another forbidding place. The record for the whole day was six and three
quarter miles, with ten runs and two let-downs. At one bad place the
_Nell_ got too far over and laboured so heavily in the enormous billows
that Cap., who pulled the bow oars, was completely lost to sight and the
boat was filled with water. Only about thirty degrees of sky were
visible as one looked directly up from our camp. A pretty canyon came in
near camp, and some of us took a walk up its narrow way.
[Illustration: Cataract Canyon.
Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871.]
In the morning Beaman made some pictures, and it was eleven o'clock
before we resumed our navigation. Our first work was a let-down, which
took an hour, and about a mile below we stopped for dinner on the left.
Then we continued, making eight miles more, in which distance we ran six
rapids and made two line-portages. The last rapid was a bad one, and
there we made one of the portages, camping at its foot on the left bank.
The walls began to diminish in height and the river was less
precipitous, as is apparent from the progress we were able to make.
September 28th we began by running two rapids immediately below camp,
and the _Nell_ remained at the foot of the second to signal Beaman in
the _Cañonita_, as he had stayed behind to take some views. Another mile
brought us to a rather bad place, the right having a vertical cliff
about 2700 feet high, but the left was composed of boulders spread over
a wide stretch, so that an excellent footing was offered. The Major and
Prof. concluded to climb out here, instead of a point farther down
called Millecrag Bend, and, appointing Steward master of the let-down
which was necessary, they left us. It was dinner-time when we got the
boats below to a safe cove, and we were quite ready for the meal which
Andy meanwhile had been cooking. A beautiful little brook came down a
narrow canyon on the left, and it was up this stream that the Major went
for a mile and a half and then climbed on the side. They were obliged to
give it up and come back to the bottom. By this time it was too late to
make another attempt, so they turned their backs on "Failure Creek,"
and, returning to us, said we would go on as soon as we had eaten the
supper which Andy was preparing. They would climb out at Millecrag Bend.
Andy had cooked a mess of beans, about the last we had, and what we did
not eat we put on board in the kettle, which had a tight cover. The
Major's manner for a day or two had been rather moody, and when Prof.
intimated to me that we would have a lively time before we saw another
camp, I knew some difficult passage ahead was on his mind; some place
which had given him trouble on the first trip.
About five o'clock we were ready; everything was made snug and tight on
the boats, nothing being left out of the cabins but a camp kettle in
each standing-room for bailing, and we cast off. Each man had his
life-preserver where he could get it quickly, and the Major put his on,
for with only one arm he could not do this readily in case of necessity.
The current was swift. We were carried rapidly down to where the gorge
narrowed up with walls vertical on each side for a height of fifty to
one hundred feet. We soon dashed through a small rough rapid. A splash
of water over our bow dampened my clothes and made the air feel chilly.
The canyon was growing dim with the evening light. High above our heads
some lazy clouds were flecked with the sunset glow. Not far below the
small rapid we saw before us a complicated situation at the prevailing
stage of water, and immediately landed on the left, where there was
footing to reconnoitre. A considerable fall was divided by a rocky
island, a low mass that would be submerged with two or three feet more
water, and the river plunging down on each side boiled against the
cliffs. Between us and the island the stream was studded by immense
boulders which had dropped from the cliffs and almost like pinnacles
stood above the surface. One view was enough to show that on this stage
of water we could not safely run either side of the cataract; indeed
destruction would surely have rewarded any attempt. The right-hand
channel from the foot of the island swept powerfully across to meet the
left-hand one and together they boomed along the base of the left-hand
cliffs before swinging sharply to the right with the trend of the chasm
in that direction. There was no choice of a course. The only way was to
manoeuvre between the great boulders and keep in the dividing line of
the current till a landing could be effected on the head of the island
between the two falls. The difficulty was to avoid being drawn to either
side. Our boat went first and we succeeded, under the Major's quick eye
and fine judgment, in easily following the proposed course till the
_Dean_ began to bump on the rocks some twenty yards above the exposed
part of the island. I tested the depth of water here with an oar as Jack
pulled slowly along, the current being quite slack in the dividing line,
and as soon as practicable we jumped overboard and guided our craft
safely to the island. Prof. in the _Nell_ was equally precise, and as he
came in we waded out to catch his boat; but the _Cañonita_ passed on the
wrong side of one of the pinnacles and, caught in the left current, came
near making a run of it down that side, which would have resulted
disastrously. Luckily they were able to extricate themselves and Beaman
steered in to us. Had the water been only high enough to prevent landing
on this island we would have been in a bad trap, but had it been so high
as to make navigation down the centre possible the rapid might perhaps
have been run safely.
We were now on the island, with darkness falling, and the problem was to
get off. While Prof. and the Major went down to the foot to make a plan
we sat in the diminishing light and waited. It was decided to pull the
boats down the right-hand side of the island as far as the foot of the
worst part of the right-hand rapid, and from there cut out into the tail
of waves, pulling through as quickly as we could to avoid contact with
the base of the left wall along which the current dashed. We must pull
fast enough to get across in the very short time it would take the river
to sweep us down to the crucial point. The gorge by this time was quite
sombre; even the clouds above were losing their evening colour. We must
act quickly. Our boat as usual made the first trial. As we shot out,
Jack and I bent to our oars with every muscle we possessed, the boat
headed slightly upstream, and in a few seconds we were flying along the
base of the cliffs, and so close that our starboard oars had to be
quickly unshipped to prevent their being broken. In a few seconds more
we were able to get out into the middle, and then we halted in an eddy
to wait for the other boats. They came on successfully and in the
gloaming we continued down the canyon looking for a place to camp, our
hearts much lightened with our triumph over the difficult rapid. Before
long night was full upon us and our wet clothes made us shiver. About a
mile below a warning roar dead ahead told us to make land at once, for
it would be far from prudent to attack a rapid in the dark. Fortunately
there was here room to camp on some rocks and sand on the right.
Scarcely had we become settled than a tornado broke over the canyon and
we were enveloped in a blinding whirl of rain and sand. Each man clung
to his blankets to prevent their departure and waited for the wind to
pass, which it did in less than ten minutes. The storm-clouds were
shattered and up the gorge, directly east from our position, from behind
a thousand needle-like spires that serrated the top of the cliffs, the
moon like a globe of dazzling silver rolled up with serene majesty,
flooding the canyon with a bright radiance. No moon-rise could have been
more dramatic. The storm-clouds were edged with light and the wet cliffs
sparkled and glittered as if set with jewels. Even the rapid below was
resplendent and silvery, the leaping waves and the spray scintillating
under the lustrous glare.
Morning brought a continuation of the rain, which fell in a deluge,
driving us to the shelter of a projecting ledge, from which
comparatively dry retreat we watched the rain cascades that soon began
their display. Everywhere they came plunging over the walls, all sizes,
and varying their volume with every variation in the downpour. Some
dropped a thousand feet to vanish in spray; others were broken into many
falls. By half-past eight we were able to proceed, running the rapid
without any trouble, but a wave drenched me so that all my efforts to
keep out of the rain went for nothing. By ten o'clock we had run four
more rapids, and arrived at the place the Major had named Millecrag
Bend, from the multitude of ragged pinnacles into which the cliffs
broke. On the left we camped to permit the Major and Prof. to make their
prospective climb to the top. A large canyon entered from the left,
terminating Cataract Canyon, which we credited with forty-one miles, and
in which I counted sixty-two rapids and cataracts, enough to give any
set of boatmen all the work they could desire. The Major and Prof.
reached the summit at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet. They had a
wide view over the unknown country, and saw mountains to the west with
snow on their summits. Snow in the canyons would not have surprised us
now, for the nights were cold and we had warmth only in the middle of
the day. Near our camp some caves were discovered, twenty feet deep and
nearly six feet in height, which had once been occupied by natives.
Walls had been laid across the entrances, and inside were corncobs and
other evidences usual in this region, now so well known. Pottery
fragments were also abundant. Another thing we found in the caves and
also in other places was a species of small scorpion. These venomous
creatures were always ready to strike, and somehow one got into Andy's
shoe, and when he put on the shoe he was bitten. No serious result
seemed to follow, but his general health was not so good after this for
a long time. He put tobacco on the wound and let it go. This was the
second accident to a member of the party, which now had been out four
months.
[Illustration: Narrow Canyon.
Photograph by Best Expedition, 1891.]
The last day of September found us up before daylight, and as soon as
breakfast was eaten, a small matter these days both in preparation and
consumption, we pulled away, intending to reach the mouth of the Dirty
Devil as soon as possible. The morning was decidedly autumnal, and when
we arrived at a small rapid, where we had to get overboard to help the
boats, nothing ever came harder than this cold bath, though it was
confined to our legs. Presently we saw a clear little rivulet coming in
on the left, and we ran up to that shore to examine it, hoping it was
drinkable. Like the first party, we were on the lookout for better water
to drink than the muddy Colorado. The rivulet proved to be sulphurous
and also hot, the temperature being about 91 F. We could not drink it,
but we warmed our feet by standing in the water. The walls of this new
canyon at their highest were about thirteen hundred feet, and so close
together and straight that the Major named it Narrow Canyon. Its length
is about nine miles. Through half of the next rapid we made a let-down,
running the remainder, and then, running two more below which were easy,
we could see through to the end of the canyon, and the picture framed by
the precipices was beautiful. The world seemed suddenly to open out
before us, and in the middle of it, clear and strong against a sky of
azure, accented by the daylight moon, stood the Unknown Mountains, weird
and silent in their untrodden mystery. By this token we knew that the
river of the Satanic name was near, and we had scarcely emerged from
Narrow Canyon, and noted the low bluffs of homogeneous red sandstone
which took the place of the high cliffs, when we perceived a sluggish
stream about 150 feet wide flowing through the barren sandstone on our
right. Landing on its west bank, we instantly agreed with Jack Sumner
when on the first trip he had proclaimed it a "Dirty Devil." Muddy,
alkaline, undrinkable, it slipped along between the low walls of smooth
sandstone to add its volume to that of the Colorado. Near us were the
remains of the Major's camp-fire of the other voyage, and there Steward
found a jack-knife lost at that time. At the Major's request he gave it
to him as a souvenir.
Our rising had been so early and our progress from Millecrag Bend so
easy that when our camp was established the hour was only nine o'clock,
giving us still a whole day. The Major and Prof. started off on an old
Indian trail to see if there was a way in to this place for horses, Cap.
took observations for time, and the others occupied themselves in
various ways, Andy counting the rations still left in our larder.
That night around our camp-fire we felt especially contented, for
Cataract and Narrow canyons were behind, and never would we be called
upon to battle with their rapids again. The descent from the mouth of
Grand River was 430 feet, most of it in the middle stretch of Cataract
Canyon.
[Illustration: The Mouth of Fremont River (The Dirty Devil River)
Photograph by the Brown Expedition, 1889]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 16: The pencil sketches I made on this trip were taken to
Washington, but I do not know what became of them.]
[Footnote 17: As mentioned in a previous footnote, the name D.
Julien--1836, was later found near this point and in two other places.
All these inscriptions appear to be on the same side of the river, the
east, and at accessible places.]
[Footnote 18: The next party to pass through this canyon was the Brown
Expedition, conducting a survey for the Denver, Colorado Canyon, and
Pacific Railway in 1889. At the first rapid they lost a raft, with
almost all their provisions, and they had much trouble. See _The Romance
of the Colorado River_, Chapter xiv. Another expedition in 1891--the
Best Expedition--was wrecked here.]