THE GRAND CAÑONS OF WESTERN RIVERS.
[Illustration: CRYSTAL FALLS, CASCADE CAÑON.]
Having pretty thoroughly photographed the region roundabout Manitou, we
hitched our camera car to a train on the Colorado Midland and started
westward for Salt Lake, and to embalm the scenery that lay between. The
way led around the base of Pike’s Peak, passed Cascade Cañon, and along
Bear Creek, the road doubling upon itself and twisting around in the
most tortuous course imaginable in order to get through the mountain
defiles. Every foot of the route is grand, for there is no point that
does not offer a view of scenic splendors beautiful, awesome and
sublime. So rugged, tumultuous and wonderfully aberrant is the way, that
the road plunges through no less than eight tunnels in traversing as
many miles, and thus the traveler is whirled through the heart and arms
of the mountains. The approach to Green Mountain Falls is up a valley
which spreads out into a fascinating landscape, where the green of the
meadowlands is set in a brown frame of sky-piercing peaks and impending
cliffs. Fontaine River refreshes the glade that opens through the
towering range, and a little way from the town the water goes leaping
down Foster’s Falls in a sheet of liquid crystal. It is from this
cascade that Green Mountain Falls takes its name. But besides this deep
dash of broken water, there are many other beautiful falls in the
vicinity which have served to make of the place a popular resort,
indeed, one of the greatest in Colorado.
Onward we speed through valleys aflame with flowers and noisy with the
laughter of gamboling streams, until, seventy miles from Colorado
Springs, we plunge into a gorge known by its length as Eleven-Mile
Cañon. It lies directly in the way to South Park, and is wonderful not
so much for its darkling depths as for its marvelous petrifactions and
other natural curiosities; its great masses of granite that have broken
away from the peaks above and become a wall to the turbulent torrent
that has cleft the mountains on its bridleless way to the sea. Thence
our train winds around, up hill, past lakes, trout streams, and ranches,
until we stop a while at Buena Vista, where the train pauses on the side
of Gold Hill Mountain, fully one thousand feet above the town. From this
natural observatory a beautiful view is had indeed: Below is the madly-
rushing Arkansas, and the silvery Cottonwood Creek that joins its waters
with the river at this point. Buena Vista is in a valley that glows like
an emerald in the sun, across which rises a giant bank of mountains
known as the Saguache range, in which we distinguish the collegiate
trinity of mounts Harvard, Yale and Princeton, each being above 14,000
feet, and the former the second highest in the Rocky Mountains. Snowy
and Sangre de Cristo ranges are also visible from this point, while
eleven miles up Cottonwood Pass is Cottonwood Lake, a very gem set in a
wilderness of snow-covered peaks. It is the same distance from Buena
Vista to the summit of Mt. Princeton, reached by an easy wagon road, and
on this lofty pedestal the observer sweeps the horizon with enraptured
vision that commands a view of Salida, Poncha Pass, the wide expanse of
South Park, and grand old Pike’s Peak one hundred miles away; Twin Lakes
are twenty-five miles to the north, near Buffalo Peaks, where the
sportsman finds a paradise and the health-seeker is exhilarated with
balsamic winds; while all around, whichever way we look, the omnipotence
of the Creator is exhibited in the mightiness of His handiwork as
displayed in the weirdly broken landscape of jocund mountain peaks,
bowlders of granite torn from the great heart of the earth, babbling
streams, tumbling water-falls, and teeming valleys.
[Illustration: THE BEARS’ CAVE, NEAR GREEN LAKE.]
After leaving Buena Vista the route was along the Arkansas River,
through somewhat less rugged scenery, and on by Leadville, a city whose
life is drawn from the bowels of the mountain. The whole territory is
speckled and dotted with engine houses, and derricks, and flumes, and
cavities, where the cupidity of man has laid a tribute upon the
everlasting hills, and is collecting it by the sweat of his brow and the
exercise of his genius.
The road continues to rise until we reach Hagerman Tunnel, a mammoth
passage-way bored through solid rock. Its length is 2,164 feet, and to
provide perfect ventillation the cut is eighteen feet wide and nearly as
many high. The grade is a continually ascending one from Colorado
Springs to this point, where an altitude of 11,530 feet is reached, and
the slope towards the Pacific begins. Just as we emerge from Hagerman
Tunnel, Loch Ivanhoe bursts into glorious view, a silvery sheet that
wraps the cold feet of Snowy Mountain, while off to the left, like a
sign of hope to the Christian traveler, is the Mount of the Holy Cross.
This wonderful peak has become a veritable shrine, visited as it is by
thousands, whose reverent feelings it never fails to excite. The
mountain obtains its name and reputation from the clefts on its northern
side near the summit, which are in the form of a cross and in which the
snow lies at such a depth that summer suns never melt it. The height of
this peak is 14,176 feet, but though not so lofty as some others in
Colorado, it is apparently more exposed and holds the snow longest, the
summit being nearly always covered.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
PORTAL OF GRAND RIVER CAÑON.—Grand and Green Rivers form the Colorado
River, and all are rich in scenery of the most splendid and imposing
character. A fine example of the beautiful and the grand blended and
combined is seen in the photograph on this page. This is the gateway
or portal, as it is aptly named, to other views equal in all
respects to this one. A tour through this region is worth the toil
and effort of a lifetime, and yet how few there are who can afford
to spend their accumulations in giving to themselves such a supreme
pleasure. But the camera overcomes the difficulty, giving us mirror-
like reflections of these majestic wonders, in which we behold them
as perfectly as if we were there in person.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SYLVAN FALLS, CASCADE CAÑON.]
The next point of interest on the way to Salt Lake is Glenwood Springs,
situated at the junction of Grand and Roaring Fork Rivers. This place
derives its importance from its numerous thermal springs of great
remedial virtues, and the beautiful adornments which a lavish but well-
directed use of money has provided. The situation, too, is one of great
natural picturesqueness, as the scenery rivals that about Manitou.
Glenwood Springs is located at the head of Grand River Cañon, which
extends a distance of sixteen miles through colossal mountains, the
palisades of which rise in serried ranks and terminate in towering
columns and gigantic turrets frequently 2,000 feet above the bed of the
river. It is through this tremendous chasm that the railroad runs, so
that travelers have a perfect view of the Titanic scenery from the car
windows, as they are whirled through it. Three miles from Glenwood
Springs is No Name Cañon, while further up the stream is a tremendous
fissure which admits the river, and on account of its wildly savage
appearance is called Grizzly Cañon. Ten miles more towards the river’s
source is Dead Horse Cañon, which may be gained only at the expense of
most laborious effort, for the trail is over great bowlders and along
crumbling walls which frown far above the roaring waters below. But away
up in this darksome retreat of nature, where the lion and bear have
their haunts, is Meteor Falls, that leaps almost out of the mouth of the
cañon and hurls its waters down a precipice nearly one hundred feet
deep, and then spreads through crevices of the rocks into a score of
separate streams. Not far distant is Alexander’s Cave, which, though not
so well known, is much grander in size and more curious with stalactite
formations than those near Manitou, which have an undeserved fame. From
the summit of a mountain just east of Glenwood, and reached by a walk of
three miles, an immense expanse of charming scenery is viewable. For
seventy miles towards the east extends the snow-crowned chain of the
Continental Divide, while towards the north, like a babe sleeping to the
lullabys of a brooklet’s voice, lies the White River plateau. Southward
the observer’s vision swings across the valleys of Roaring Fork and
Crystal River to the Elk range, and then sweeps around to the west,
where it lingers on Book Cliffs, ninety miles away, which gleam with
scintillant beauty, and inspire with a grandeur that fills the very soul
with wondering ecstasy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
BOOK CLIFFS, WALLS OF GRAND RIVER CAÑON.—It would be a difficult thing
to find a more beautiful picture than the one that embellishes this
page. It is gloriously beautiful. The camera has done its work so
well that the very reflection of the sun’s rays and the soft glimmer
of the summer air are shown as perfectly as they could be seen with
the natural eye. In fact it has been said, and truly so, that the
camera is a good detective, for it discovers objects which are
invisible to ordinary human sight, and prints them indelibly upon
its sensitive plates. Hence good photographs, like those in GLIMPSES
OF AMERICA, are in many respects more desirable than a visit to the
scenes themselves.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.
[Illustration: TRIPLE FALLS, CASCADE CAÑON.]
The tumultuous anarchism of nature, the wild riot of natural forces, the
savage disarrangement, the chaotically indefinable throes of internal
madness that characterize the region, suggests other wonders of eruption
and erosion, the dissolution and disorganization which have been wrought
along the water-course and which has gnawed its way through these
everlasting—nay, it would appear, transitory—mountains. The first
travelers that fought their way into these vastnesses of cañon, roaring
peak and soughing forests, carried back to civilization wondrous tales
of the things which they had seen, and though discredited as the
conceptions of perfervid imaginations, others were stimulated to seek
the proofs, and confirm the theories that were offered by adventurous
gold-hunters. The Government itself, unconscious of its own possessions,
joined in the search for the wondrous evidences and sent expeditions
into the Rocky Mountain regions to make topographic and geologic
investigations, the results of which were to increase surprise.
Operations in the west, chiefly against the Mohave Indians, made it
necessary also for the Government to ascertain the most convenient
routes for the transportation of supplies to the military posts in New
Mexico and Utah, and in this search the Colorado River became an object
of special interest, because if navigable it presented the easiest way
to the seat of war. In order to determine the question, an expedition
was despatched by the Secretary of War, in 1858, under the command of
Lieutenant J. C. Ives, chief of topographical engineers. An iron
steamboat fifty feet long was built in Philadelphia, which, being in
sections convenient for transportation, was shipped by way of Panama to
the Gulf of California, and put into service at Fort Yuma, at the mouth
of the Colorado River, for an ascent of that stream.
The expedition thus conducted by Lieutenant Ives resulted in the
exploration of a large territory which was before his advent therein a
_terra incognita_, except that it had been partially traversed in 1540
by a few Spanish explorers, acting under orders of the Viceroy of New
Spain, whose reports, however, were so crude as to be almost valueless.
Ives succeeded in ascending the Colorado a distance of 425 miles in his
steamboat, which he concluded was within seventy-five miles of the head
of navigation during the most favorable season. The practical results
were not of very great value, but his reports were extremely
interesting, chiefly for the descriptions of marvelous scenery which
they contained. Or, as he writes, “The region explored after leaving the
navigable portion of the Colorado—though, in a scientific point of view,
of the highest interest, and presenting natural features whose strange
sublimity is perhaps unparalleled in any part of the world—is not of
much value.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
NEAR HANCE’S CABIN, GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.—The Grand Cañon of
the Colorado, in Northwestern Arizona, is the supreme natural wonder
of the world. It is formed by the Colorado River cutting its way
through the high plateau of that region. It is not a mountainous
district, but a level plateau, and for this reason the tourist sees
no indication of the wonders soon to be unfolded to his astonished
vision until he is right upon the brink of the awful chasm which
gashes the earth in many places to a depth of more than one mile, at
the bottom of which the river writhes and dashes like a tortured
serpent. The towering cliffs on either side reflect all the colors
of the rainbow, and when they are illuminated by the noonday sun the
scene is indescribably beautiful as well as grand.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: TEN-MILE PASS, NEAR KOKOMO, COLORADO.]
Subsequently the Government determined to effect an exploration of the
headwaters of the Colorado, and to this end Major J. W. Powell, chief of
the U. S. Survey Corps, was sent out in charge of a party of a dozen
equally intrepid men, with instructions to descend the stream if
possible. To accomplish his purpose Major Powell provided four
staunchly-built row-boats in which he and his party debarked at Green
River Station, on the 24th of May, 1869, to run the gauntlet of cañon,
maelstrom, rapids and waterfalls in the Green and Colorado Rivers. It is
to Major Powell’s report that we are indebted for descriptions of the
terribly sublime scenery of these two streams, which surpass in wonder
every other region on the globe, and to the photographer of that
expedition we make our acknowledgments for several of the views which
are here reproduced. Mr. W. H. Jackson, who was for a long while
attached to the survey corps as photographer, has also kindly furnished
us with a number of exquisite pictures of the more accessible cañons of
the Colorado, and to him, therefore, credit in large share must be
given. Our own party, while thoroughly equipped for photographing
regions contiguous to railroads, was unprepared for making a trip down
the most dangerous of rivers, and we have accordingly been compelled to
rely for our photographs of the Green and Colorado Cañons upon the work
of those above credited. Condensing as much as possible the elaborate
and entrancing report of Major Powell, as it fills a very large volume,
his explorations may be thus hastily described:
Almost from the beginning of the trip, the scenery was delightful,
variegated as it was with high-reaching cliffs dyed in great variety of
colors, and long lines of mountains stretching away into an infinity of
distance. The blue sky above, green shades of forest pines along the
side, empurpled clouds catching the tints of a rising and setting sun,
and lines of buff, red and brown, marking the strata of the banks, made
a picture which no painter has the genius to reproduce. Green River
enters the Minta plateau by the Flaming Gorge, and after reaching the
heart of the chain turns eastward, then southward, cutting its way out
by the splendid cañon of Lodore. Then following the base of the range
for a few miles a sudden caprice seizes it. Not content with the
terrible gash it has inflicted upon this noble chain, it darts at it
viciously once more and cuts a horseshoe cañon in its flank 2,700 feet
deep, then twists and emerges near the point of entrance. Thenceforward
the river runs a tortuous course of 300 miles through gently inclined
terraces which rise gradually as the stream descends. Further down, the
Kaibab (Buckskin) Plateau rises to contest its passage, and a chasm
5,000 to 6,000 feet is the result. The whole province is a vast category
of instances of river channels cutting through plateaus, mesas, and
terraces where the strata dip up-stream, as will be more particularly
described in the summary of Major Powell’s hazardous explorations.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO, NEAR THE TEMPLE OF SET.—This splendid
photograph will convey to the mind of the reader a good idea of the
awful grandeur of this locality. The picture is taken at the bottom
of the cañon, beneath the overhanging cliffs which rise
perpendicularly for thousands of feet, and between whose jutting
crags the sun can penetrate only when it is at the meridian. It is
well to contemplate such scenery, for it shows us our own littleness
and impotency in the midst of the fearful and resistless forces of
nature which God has set in motion.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: KAIBAB PINNACLES, GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.]
Sixty miles from Green River the expedition floated into Flaming Gorge,
a chasm fifteen hundred feet in depth, through which the water poured in
swift measures and gave intimation of a more impetuous course further
down. But undeterred the gallant party proceeded, through Red and
Horseshoe Cañons, where the walls drew closer and big bowlders in the
stream caused the water to boil with such ominous signs that portage
around the obstructions was necessary. Thereafter the way became more
difficult, for to dangerous rapids were added lofty falls, while along
the vertical walls in places there was scarcely a space to set foot.
Frequently the only possible means of passage was by lowering the boats
by ropes attached to stem and stern, which taxed the strength of the men
as well as the staunchness of the crafts. Time and again, in running
rapids, the boats were capsized, but being built in water-tight
compartments they righted themselves and were a refuge for the men, who
clung to the sides until they drifted near the shore.
At one place, which Major Powell named Disaster Falls, one of the boats
was swept over a fall and carried down to a rapid, where, striking
broadside against a bowlder, it was broken in two, leaving the three
occupants adrift to battle with the surging waters. Their escape from
drowning was almost a miracle, due to good luck and the extraordinary
efforts of their brave comrades. In this spot the walls were more than
3,000 feet high, and drawn so near together that only a thin strip of
sky was visible, which at night-time appeared to rest on the jagged
edges of the cliffs.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
PYRAMID PEAK, IN GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.—We have on this page a
general view of some of the rugged and imposing scenery of this
region. The space is too limited, however, to show the towering
heights of the cliffs to the right, which, when viewed from this
standpoint, seem to bathe their faces in the blue vault of heaven.
Along these cliffs, in many places, are found the deserted homes and
the ghastly relics of an ancient race of men, long since perished
from the face of the earth. They made their dwelling places in this
rugged and secluded region as a protection against wild animals and
still wilder savage men, but with all their precaution they were
unable to shield themselves from the fury of their enemies, and
another chapter of mystery and sorrow is thus added to the history
of man.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: HORSESHOE CAÑON, GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.]
Sixteen days after their departure from the starting point, the
adventurous party were swept into Lodore Cañon, which extends its
colossal walls along twenty-four miles of the river, sometimes in the
form of hanging cliffs, tousled and gray with stunted vegetation, and
rising nearly three thousand feet above the stream, and again in
beautiful terraces of red sandstone that spread upward till they are
lost in the Uintah Mountains.
It was not until two months after leaving Green River Station that the
explorers approached the junction with Grand River. As they dropped out
of the winding gorge whence they had descended, they caught a view of a
wondrous fissure, down which poured a rushing stream which appeared to
issue from the very bowels of the earth, so bottomless seemed the
channel. It was Grand River, which, in many respects, is the counterpart
of its sister stream, having the same features of waterfall, rapid, and
awesome cañon, into which the sunlight falls only at midday, and where
night-birds are on the wing almost constantly. It is a fitting thing
that these two remarkable rivers should mix their fretful waters and
flow on together in a perpetual quarrel, through arid plains, until they
end their differences in the Gulf of California.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
ECHO CLIFFS, CAÑON OF GRAND RIVER.—The resounding cliffs on either
side of the valley so beautifully photographed on this page, give
name to the locality. The echo is one of the finest known in any
region of the world, and the place will some day become as famous as
similar resorts in Europe, which attract thousands of visitors every
year. The scenic regions of our country are so vast, so diversified,
so grand and so beautiful that the time is not far distant when
pleasure seekers, and those desiring rest and recreation from the
toils and worries of business will turn their footsteps in this
direction, rather than toward the less attractive and more distant
wonders of Europe.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CLIFF RUINS IN THE CAÑON.]
[Illustration: JURASSIC TERRACE OF THE CALAB, GRAND CAÑON OF THE
COLORADO.]
The Colorado River is formed by a union of the Grand and Green Rivers,
the former taking its rise near Long’s Peak, and the latter having its
source in the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming, within a few miles of
Fremont’s Peak. The two streams form a junction near a point known as
Fort Morrison, in southeast Utah, at the head of the most appalling
gorge in the world, called the _Grand Cañon of the_ _Colorado_. The
scenery along both the Grand and Green Rivers is inexpressibly sublime,
rising into towering buttes out of the plains; soaring to the clouds in
the form of mountains; revelling in the wildest disorder of landscape,
and the most turbulent panorama of mad-dashing streams between walls of
amazing height; but the wild passions of both rivers seem to be united
with more than double intensity when they mingle their waters and thence
become one turbid flood gnawing a way through the southwest desert. How
hard it is for the inexperienced eye to catch a mental view of the
tremendous chasm of the Colorado, however realistic a descriptive writer
may paint it, for height and depth almost lose their significance when
we apply the terms to dizzy crags above, and the dark lonesomeness of
Plutonian recesses beneath.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
BUFFALO BILL AND PARTY AT POINT SUBLIME, GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.—
During the summer succeeding his triumphal tour of Europe, General
W. F. Cody (Buffalo Bill), accompanied by a party of friends,
visited and explored the famous Grand Cañon of the Colorado. The
photograph on this page represents the party at lunch on Point
Sublime. Buffalo Bill is a warm friend and admirer of the author of
GLIMPSES OF AMERICA, and loaned this photograph to him for
reproduction in this work. It was taken by the special photographer
who accompanied the party on the tour referred to.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: SKULLS OF THE CLIFF DWELLERS.]
The region through which the chafing waters of the Colorado run is
forbidding in the extreme, a vast Sahara of waste and inutility; a
desert too dreary for either vegetable or animal life; a land that is
haunted with wind-storm, on which ride the furies of desolation. But
there is in its very bleakness and consumptive degeneracy something that
appeals to the observer; a sympathy is aroused that stimulates
contemplation of the wondrous works of Deity, of the omnipotent hand
that sows seeds of plenty in one place and scatters tares of poverty in
another; that makes the valleys to laugh with verdure, and the plains to
wail with nakedness. In this sterile domain, this borderland of phantasy
and reality, nature is so distraught that the supernatural seems to hold
carnival, and in the forms which we here behold there is constant
suggestion of chaos. The earth is parched to sterility, and yet there
are abundant evidences that in centuries long ago this same land was
abundantly blessed with an amazing fertility. Depressions ramifying the
region are the dry beds of what were once water-courses, and the whole
plateau is garish with rocks over which life-giving floods once poured
their vivifying nourishment. But the friable nature of both soil and
rock has given way before the action of the river, which has constantly
deepened its path and drained the moisture from the earth. Now it is
like the Moon, a parched district, save for the single stream which,
instead of supplying sustenance, is eating its vitals. The channel is
worn more than 5,000 feet deep, with stupendous banks terraced and
wrought into shapes most fantastic, and at places diabolic. Imagine a
chasm that at times is less than a quarter of a mile wide and more than
a mile deep, the bed of which is a tossing, roaring, madly impetuous
flood; winding its way in a sinuous course along walls that are painted
with all the pigments known to nature! What an imposing spectacle; what
a scene of awesome grandeur; what a sublime vision of mightiness! But
the geologist sees in the crags and precipices, the strata and bed of
that brawling stream, the handwriting of nature, the easily decipherable
physical history and geology of the land. The antiquarian and
ethnologist, following after, translate the relics of rude habitations
found along the cliffs, and the skulls fortunately recovered from the
ruins, into a story of the ancient people who in the long centuries ago
dared to make their homes in these almost inaccessible fastnesses,
driven to such refuges by the ruthless hand of persecution.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
HANCE’S TRAIL, GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO.—Between the beetling crags
and along the serpentine windings of the river, we obtain in this
photograph a fine view of some of the wonders of the Grand Cañon.
The beauties of the scene would be largely enhanced if the varied
hues of the red and orange and amber tinted cliffs could be painted
by the camera with the same accuracy that it gives to all the other
surroundings and characteristics of the picture. This much to be
desired result is largely accomplished, however, in the splendid
colored photograph of a similar scene in this connection, and which
in fact gives a better idea of the splendors of the Grand Cañon than
any photograph in a single color could convey.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: ROTARY SNOW-PLOW.]
In many places, Major Powell found overarching cliffs, formed by the
river in making a sharp bend eating away the shale and gypsum of the
base. Occasional inlets were observed, cut by creeks that have been
dried up for ages; and following up one of these deep aroytas a little
way, he came to a natural stair-way of small and regular terraces that
led up fully 500 feet, to an oasis of vegetation, out of which burst a
spring that lost its waters before they had run a hundred feet down the
parched cliff. Just below this point a beautiful glen was found, where
the walls of the cañon appeared to almost meet above the deep and quiet
river, which, though narrowed, had an unobstructed channel. The cliffs
were of a marvelous beauty, appalling in height, but as variegated as a
bed of poppies, with their strata of white, pink, saffron, gray and red.
Passing out of Glen Cañon, the party came directly into the jaws of
another chasm, where the river had excavated an amphitheater of mammoth
proportions, and then plunged into a gorge where both the walls and bed
of the stream were of marble so pure that they shone with an iridescent
splendor, and the now lazy river reflected its walls until looking down
was gazing into the heavenly depths. Just below was Cataract Cañon, the
entrance to which was indicated by a lofty cliff that, from a distance,
shone like a crystal mountain, but which, on closer inspection, was
discovered to be the source of many springs whose waters glinted in the
sun like jewels.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: PORTION OF THE ANCIENT PALACE AT CASA GRANDE, ARIZONA.]
[Illustration: PART OF THE ANCIENT CITY WALL AI CASA GRANDE, ARIZONA.]
The ruins of the ancient city of Casa Grande, in Arizona, and others not
less wonderful in the same region, prove that this portion of our
country was once inhabited by a powerful and numerous race of people,
who possessed a civilization and knowledge of the arts on a parallel
with Babylon and Assyria. The walls of these ruins are built of adobe,
thick and strong, and guarded with buttresses and towers to meet and
repel the attacks of an enemy; but their age and the date of their
occupancy cannot be determined. They may be a thousand years old, and it
is just as probable that they date back two or three times that distance
into the unknown past. Their origin is a profound mystery, and must
always remain such.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: BRIDAL VEIL, SHOSHONE FALLS.]
In many places the arid desolation which was noticeable in the upper
portion and on the plateau, and which stretched away on both sides, was
broken by patches of vegetation, and the appearance of side gorges in
which creeks were still contributing to the river. Storms were not
infrequent, too, and these occurring where the cañon walls were a mile
high and close together, produced an effect that was almost supernatural
in its awfulness. Every obscuration of the sun brought dense shadows in
the chasm, which were split in twain by blinding flashes, while the deep
thunder echoed sharply between the cliffs, producing a roaring sound
that was almost deafening. Such rain-storms, however, were invariably
confined to the immediate vicinity of the cañon, the territory lying two
or three miles east or west continuing parched, with hardly a cloud
above it. Even more remarkable than the stupendous walls which confine
the Colorado River, are the ruined cave habitations which are to be seen
along the lofty and apparently inaccessible ledges, in which a vanished
race long years ago evidently sought refuge from their enemies. These
caves are no doubt natural excavations, but in many instances the mouths
are partially walled and otherwise fortified. They were reached by very
narrow, precipitous and devious paths, and being extremely difficult to
attain by the occupants themselves, presented an impregnable front to
invaders. But the security which such cavernous retreats afforded was
purchased at great cost, for we wonder how the inhabitants managed to
exist, situated as they were in a desolate country, where there was
great scarcity of both vegetable and animal life. Perhaps the most
strikingly beautiful sections of the Grand Cañon are the Vermilion
Cliffs, and the Temples and Towers of the Virgin, the one fading into
the other. Vermilion Cliffs are a great wall of remarkable height and
length of persistent proportions, and so ornate with natural
sculpturing, and rich with parti-coloring, as to justify the most
extravagant language in describing them. Each of the several terraces
has its own style of architecture, and yet they contrast with one
another in the most harmoniously artistic manner. The Elephantine ruins
on the Nile, the temples of Greece, the pagodas of China, and the
cathedrals of Southern Europe, present no more variety of pleasing
structures than those encountered in descending the stair-way from the
high plateaus to the deep Cañon of the Colorado. As we pass from terrace
to terrace, the scene is constantly changing; not only in the bolder and
grander masses which dominate the landscape, but in every detail and
accessory as well: in the tone of the color-masses, in the vegetation,
and in the spirit and subjective influences of the scenery. The profile
of the Vermilion Cliffs is very complex, though conforming to a definite
type and composed of simple elements. While varying much in different
localities, it never loses its typical character. The cliffs consist of
an ascending series of vertical ledges, rising story above story, with
intervening slopes covered with heaps of rocks, through which project
their fretted edges. The composite effect given by the multiple cliffs
and sloping water-tables rising tier above tier, is highly
architectural, and shows in striking contrast with the rough and craggy
aspect of the cliffs of other regions. This effect is much increased by
the aberrant manner in which the wall advances in promontories or
recedes in alcoves, and by the wings and gables that jut out from every
lateral face. In many places side cañons have cut the terrace platforms
deeply, and open in magnificent gate-ways upon the broad desert plain in
front. We look into them from afar, wonderingly and questioningly, with
our fancy pleased to follow their windings until their sudden turns
carry them into distant, unseen depths. In other places the cliffs verge
into towering buttes, rearing their unassailable summits into the
clouds, rich with the aspiring forms of a pure Gothic type, and flinging
back in red and purple the intense sunlight that is poured upon them.
Could the imagination blanch those colors, it might compare them with
vast icebergs, sent from the face of a glacier and floating majestically
out to sea.
Grand, glorious, sublime, are the pictorial cliffs of vermilion hue; yet
a more magnificent spectacle is presented by an unfolding of the
panorama that stretches southward, revealing as it does the heavenly
crowned and resplendently painted temples and towers of the Virgin. Here
the slopes, the serpentine ledges, and the bosses of projecting rock,
interlarded with scanty soil, display all the colors of the rainbow, and
in the distance may be likened to the painter’s palette. The bolder
tints are of maroon, purple, chocolate, magenta and lavender, with broad
bands of white laid in horizontal belts. The cañon proper is 7,000 feet
deep here, but less than two miles beyond it stands the central and
commanding object of this sublime painting, the glorious western temple
that looms up 4,000 feet above the rapid river. This, however, is only
the foreground of a matchless panorama, for right opposite are a mighty
throng of structures wrought in the same exalted style, separated by two
principal forks of the Virgin, known as the Parunuweap and the
Mukuntuweap, or Little Zion Valley. At one point the two side cañons
swing around and form a junction, where the walls break into giant
pediments covered with the most remarkable and picturesque carvings. The
sumptuous, bewildering and mazy effects are boldly discernible; but
detail is lost when attempt is made to analyze it. The flank of the wall
receding up the Mukuntuweap is similarly sculptured and decorated for
two miles, and then changes into new kaleidoscopic forms still more
wonderful and impressive. A row of towers half a mile high is sculptured
out of the palisade, and stands in relief before its face. There is an
eloquence in their forms which stirs the imagination with a singular
power, and kindles in even the dullest mind a glowing response. Just
behind them, and rising a thousand feet higher, is the eastern temple,
crowned with a cylindric dome of white sandstone. Directly in front is a
complex group of white towers, springing from a central pile and
mounting to the clouds. The highest peak in this cumulus mass is almost
pure white, with brilliant streaks of carmine descending its vertical
walls, while the truncated summit is a deep red.
Nothing can exceed the wondrous beauty of Little Zion Valley, which
separates the two temples and their respective groups of towers. In its
proportions it is probably equal to Yosemite, but it very far exceeds
that natural wonder in the nobility and beauty of sculpturing. We are
not surprised that a Mormon zealot gave to this cañon the name of Little
Zion, since the scenery is so imposing as to immediately and powerfully
suggest those “houses not built with hands.”
Far to the westward is to be seen the last palisade, lifting its
imposing front behind an army of towers and domes to an altitude of more
than 3,000 feet. Beyond it the view changes quickly, for it passes at
once into the Great Basin, which to this region is another world.
The passage of the Grand Cañon of the Colorado, that most fearful,
colossal and extraordinary chasm in all the world’s surface, was
completed on August 29th, the perils which beset the explorers being
constant and the hardest work unremitting. Nor was it accomplished
without great sacrifice. The dangers so increased that three of the men
deserted, whose fate, however, was most tragic, for they were shortly
afterwards murdered by Indians. Starvation threatened the party, for
repeated capsizing of the boats resulted in the loss of nearly all their
provisions, while exposure brought on illness, so that the men were in a
desperate situation when they finally emerged from the jaws of the cañon
and found succor among some hospitable Indians.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration:
FALLS OF THE PARUNUWEAP.—The Parunuweap is a wady, or dry bed, during
a great part of the year, but which carries in season much of the
rainfall of southwest Colorado into the San Juan River, and thence
into Colorado River. Throughout a great part of its length the bed
of Parunuweap is a cañon of enormous depth and precipitous sides,
into which, at frequent intervals, streams that are suddenly swollen
by heavy rains pour their overflow. The illustration above shows one
of these temporary falls, flowing in large volume over a precipice
of the cañon that is nearly perpendicular and quite 200 feet high.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------