A Canyon Voyage Part 12

Descending to the valley we arrived just at dusk at Berry's Spring, where our waggon under the direction of Jones had come with supplies.

The spring was an excellent one and the rivulet flowing away from it was bordered with large wild-rose bushes. Though the waggon and supplies were there Jones was not, for we had expected to come in from farther west past Fort Pierce, and he had gone on to that place to tell us where he had decided to camp. Clem had found his gun and come out with them, the others of the party being Fennemore and George Adair. Jones came back the next day and prepared to start with Andy and Johnson for several days' work in the Pine Valley Mountains, while Jack, Captain Dodds, Fennemore, and I were to return to the Uinkaret region to complete certain work there. Some goods to be distributed to the natives from the Indian Bureau arrived at St. George and Prof. went there with George Adair to have a talk with the Indians to be found, and distribute goods. We had seen no Indians at all in the Uinkaret region. He discovered the Shewits who came in to be afraid of us, thinking we wanted to kill them, but they were willing to accept anything they could get in the line of presents. Hardly any would acknowledge themselves to be either Uinkarets or Shewits.

On April 12th, according to the plan, Jack, Dodds, Fennemore, and I started back to the Uinkaret Mountains, following the trail we had tried to strike coming out. It led past a place called Fort Pierce, a small stone building the settlers had formerly used as an advance post against the Shewits and Uinkarets. There we spent the night, and the next day after some trouble we got on the right trail, and on Monday, the 15th of April, we again reached what we had called Oak Spring, near Mount Trumbull, and the southern flow of lava already described. The following day Jack and Fennemore went down to the brink of the Grand Canyon, at the foot of a sort of valley the Uinkarets called Toroweap, while with Dodds I climbed the peak later named after Senator Logan, and attempted some triangulation, but the air was so murky I could not get my sights and had to return for them the next morning. The day after that we climbed Mount Trumbull, and I triangulated from there. One of my sights from Logan was to a conical b.u.t.te near which we had camped as we came out, and near which we had found a large ant-hill covered with small, perfect quartz crystals that sparkled in the sun like diamonds. When I sighted to this b.u.t.te, for want of a better name, I recorded it temporarily as Diamond b.u.t.te, remembering the crystals, and the name became fixed, which shows how unintentionally names are sometimes bestowed. We examined the lava flows and the crater again, and I made a sketch in pencil from another point of view from one I had made during our former sojourn. Then we joined Jack and Fennemore, who had been taking negatives at the canyon edge. On the 20th Dodds and I climbed down the cliffs about three thousand feet to the water at a rapid called Lava Falls. Across the river we could see a very large spring, but of course we could not get over to it. Returning to Oak Spring, we spent there another night, and in the morning, while the others started for headquarters, I rode around to the ranch to inquire about a spring I had heard something about existing on the St. George trail; but the solitary man I found there, who came out of the woods in response to my shout, a walking a.r.s.enal, did not know anything concerning it. After drinking a quart or two of milk, which he kindly offered me, I rode on to join my companions by continuing around the mountain, "running in" the trail as I went with a prismatic compa.s.s. Presently I saw a cougar sitting upright behind a big log, calmly staring at me, so I dismounted and sent a Winchester bullet in his direction. My mule was highly nervous about firearms, and having to restrain her antics by putting my arm through the bridle rein, her snorting skittishness both at the rifle and the cougar disturbed my aim and my shot went a trifle under. The bullet seemed to clip the log, but if it hit the cougar the effect was not what I expected, for with a rush like a sky-rocket the animal disappeared in the top of the pine tree overhead, and I could see nothing more of it though I rode about looking for it. Not wis.h.i.+ng to dally here, I spurred on to overtake my party, but in trying a short cut I pa.s.sed beyond them, as they had by that time halted in some cedars for lunch. The man at the ranch had told me that Whitmore was due to arrive that day, and having missed a part of the trail by the short cut, I could not judge by the tracks as to where my party were, and not caring to waste time, I rode on and on till I had gone so far I did not want to turn back.

Evening came, but there was a good moon, and I did not stop till eight o'clock. The night was cold; the plain was barren and bleak. I had no coat, but with the saddle blanket and a handful of dead brush, which I burned by installments, I managed to warm myself enough to sleep by short intervals. I was on my feet with the dawn, but my mule was nowhere to be seen, though I had hoppled her well with my bridle reins. I tracked the mule about five miles to a muddy place where there had been water, caught her, and rode back to my saddle, when I continued my journey, running in the trail as I went. I became pretty thirsty and hungry, but the only thing for me to do was to continue to our main camp. Had I gone back I might have missed our men again, for there had been some talk about a short-cut trail, and I feared they might try it.

At two o'clock I reached Black Rock Canyon, where there was a water-pocket full of warm and dirty water, but both the mule and I took a drink and I rode on, pa.s.sing Fort Pierce at sunset. Off on my right I perceived ten or twelve Shewits Indians on foot travelling rapidly along in Indian file, and as the darkness fell and I had to go through some wooded gulches I confess I was a little uncomfortable and kept my rifle in readiness; but I was not molested and reached camp about ten o'clock, where I ate a large piece of bread with mola.s.ses, after a good drink of water, and went to bed. The others arrived the following afternoon. I had left notes for them by the trail in cleft-sticks, so they knew that I was ahead. This was the longest trip I ever made without water or food.

We prepared to start out again in different directions; one party was to go to the Pine Valley Mountains, another to Pipe Spring and the mouth of the Paria to look after our property there, a third up the Virgin Valley for photographs, and a fourth to St. George and the Virgin range of mountains south-west of that town. Prof. headed this last party, and he took me as his topographical a.s.sistant. April 27th we rode into St.

George, a town I was much interested to see. I found a very pretty, neat, well-ordered little city of about fifteen hundred population, with a good schoolhouse, a stone tabernacle with a spire, and a court house, the water running in ditches along the streets for irrigating purposes as well as for drinking. About a mile below the town we camped, and we could hear the band playing a serenade to one of the officials who was to start the next day on a long journey. After several days of feeling our way about in the rugged and dry region below St. George, we finally discovered a good water-pocket, from which Prof. and I made a long, hard ride and climb, and about sunset camped at the base of what is now called Mount Bangs, the highest peak of the Virgin Mountains, for which we were aiming. The next day we climbed an additional eleven hundred feet to its summit, and completed our work in time by swift riding to get to our main camp at the water-pocket by half-past six.

It was an easy trip back to St. George, following an old trail, and then we made our way to Kanab again, where we put all our notes in shape and fitted out for the journey to the mouth of the Dirty Devil across the unknown country.

[Ill.u.s.tration: In the Unknown Country.

Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872.]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 28: For the linguistic cla.s.sification of stocks and tribes of the United States, see Appendix, _The North Americans of Yesterday_, by F. S. Dellenbaugh.]

[Footnote 29: For a description of Little Zion Valley, see "A New Valley of Wonders," by F. S. Dellenbaugh, _Scribner's Magazine_, January, 1904.]

CHAPTER XIII

Off for the unknown Country--A lonely Grave--Climbing a Hog-back to a green gra.s.sy Valley--Surprising a Ute Camp--Towich-a-tick-a-boo--Following a Blind Trail--The Unknown Mountains Become Known--Down a deep Canyon--To the Paria with the _Canonita_--John D. Lee and Lonely Dell.

Andy and Captain Dodds, who had gone to the mouth of the Paria to ascertain the condition of our boats, returned May 15th, reporting the boats all right, but the caches we had left torn up by wolves and prospectors. The latter had stolen oars and other things, and gone down on a raft to be wrecked at the first rapid in Marble Canyon, where they just escaped with their lives. A settler had established himself there a short time before, the notorious John D. Lee, who was reputed to have led the ma.s.sacre of the unfortunate Missourians at Mountain Meadows in 1857, and who had eluded capture all these years. He had been "cut off,"

nominally at least, from the Mormon Church, and had lived in the most out-of-the-way places, constantly on his guard. Our men took all our ropes and remaining materials from the caches to his cabin, where they would be safe till our arrival. We prepared for the trip eastward across the unknown country to the mouth of the Dirty Devil River, and by the 22d of May I had completed the preliminary map of the region to westward which we had just reconnoitred. Mrs. Thompson was to stay in Kanab, for Prof. decided that it would not be advisable for her to accompany him on this journey, although she was the most cheerful and resolute explorer of the whole company. A large tent was erected for her in the corner of Jacob's garden, and she was to take her meals with Sister Louisa, whose house stood close by. With Fuzz, a most intelligent dog, for a companion in her tent and the genial Sister Louisa for a near neighbour she was satisfactorily settled. Fuzz had the peculiarity of sympathising with the Navajos in their contempt for the Pai Utes. The latter roused his ire on the instant, but when a Navajo came up, with his confident step, Fuzz would lie still, with merely a roll of the eye to signify that he was on guard.

Sat.u.r.day, May 25th, our caravan of riders, pack animals, and a waggon moved slowly toward Eight-Mile Spring, the first stop in prospect. I rode a brisk little horse which had received the lofty name of Aaron.

When we reached Eight-Mile Spring about noon there was barely enough water for our animals and for cooking dinner, which compelled our going elsewhere to put on the finis.h.i.+ng touches to our outfit before cutting loose from the settlements, and Prof. directed the caravan to continue to Johnson, farther east and up one of the canyons of the Vermilion Cliffs. He returned to Kanab to make some final arrangements there, while we kept on to Johnson, pa.s.sing the little settlement of two or three houses, and making a camp two miles above, where the canyon bottom was wide and level. Here we went over everything to be sure that all was in good order and nothing left behind. The animals were reshod where necessary, which operation kept Andy and Dodds busy all of Sunday, the 26th. By thus making a start and proceeding a few miles all defects and neglects become apparent before it is too late to remedy them. On Monday Jack went back to Kanab with the waggon, returning toward night with George Adair. Fennemore had started with them, but he had turned back after something forgotten, and they did not know whether or not he had come on. In the morning George went off to look for him, and met him down at the settlement. He had followed on the day before, but instead of turning up the Johnson road, according to instructions, he had gone ahead on the road towards the Paria settlement. Finally concluding that he was wrong he had tried to correct his mistake by moonlight, but after a while gave it up, tied his mule, unsaddled, to a cedar, and claimed the protection of another for himself. During the night the mule chewed the bridle in two and departed for Kanab, leaving Fennemore, when daylight came, to walk some eight miles under a hot sun without water or breakfast to Johnson. He was considerably used up by this episode, and put in the remainder of the day in recuperating. The evenings were wonderfully beautiful, and looking from a height the scene was exceptionally picturesque, with the red rocks, the warm sky, the camp equipage, and the air so still that the smoke of the camp-fires rose slender and unbroken till lost in the zenith.

Early Wednesday morning Prof. rode up on his powerful buckskin-coloured horse, and with Johnson and me went over to our Point B some miles away for some bearings, while Fennemore rode in search of his abandoned saddle. By night there was nothing to interfere with our making the final start, which we did May 30th, proceeding up the canyon without Mormon, one of our strongest horses, which by an accident had been injured so badly that he had to be left behind at Johnson. He was a fractious, unruly beast, but with so great vitality that we were sorry not to have his services. He died a week or two later. Towards night we pa.s.sed another very small settlement called Clarkston, and camped near it, the last houses we would see for some time. Several Pai Utes hung around, and Prof. engaged one called Tom to accompany us as interpreter and, so far as he might know the country, as guide.

The next day, after sixteen miles north-easterly up canyons, we entered about three o'clock an exceedingly beautiful little valley, with a fine spring and a small lake or pond at the lower end. George Adair instantly declared that he meant to come back here to live, and after dinner when we reconnoitred the place he staked out his claim. All the next morning, June 1st, our way led over rolling meadows covered with fine gra.s.s, but about noon this ended and we entered the broken country of the upper Paria, with gullies and gulches barren and dry the rest of the day, except two, in which we crossed small branches of the Paria. In one of the dry gulches we pa.s.sed a grave, marked by a sandstone slab with E. A.

cut on it, which the wolves had dug out, leaving the human bones scattered all around. We could not stop to reinter them. They were the remains of Elijah Averett, a young Mormon, who was killed while pursuing Pai Utes in 1866. Just before sunset we arrived at the banks of the Paria, where we made camp, with plenty of wood, water, and gra.s.s.

Captain Dodds during the afternoon recognised a place he had been in when hunting a way the autumn before, and we followed his old trail for a time. Leaving the Paria the following day where it branches, we followed the east fork to its head, twelve miles, climbing rapidly through a narrow valley. We could plainly see on the left a high, flat, cliff-bounded summit, which was called Table Mountain, and early in the afternoon we reached a series of "hog-backs," and up one of which the old Indian trail we were now following took its precarious way. The hog-backs were narrow ridges of half-disintegrated clay-shale, with sides like the roof of a house, the trail following the sharp summit-line. Before we had fairly begun this very steep, slippery, and narrow climb, the thunder boomed and the heavens threw down upon us fierce torrents of rain, soaking everything and chilling us through and through, while making the trail like wet soap. Part way up, at one of the worst places, a pack came loose, and, slipping back, hung on the rump of the horse. There was no room for bucking it off, and there was no trouble so far as the beast of burden was concerned, for he realised fully his own danger. Two of us managed to climb along past the other animals to where he meekly stood waiting on the narrow ridge, with a descent on each side of eight hundred or nine hundred feet, and set things in order once more, when the cavalcade continued the ascent, the total amount of which was some twelve hundred feet.

Arriving at the top we found ourselves almost immediately on the edge of a delightful little valley, mossy and green with a fresh June dress, down which we proceeded two or three miles to a spring where Dodds and Jacob had made a cache of some flour the year before. The flour had disappeared. We made a camp and dried out our clothes, blankets, etc., by means of large fires. Though it was summer the air was decidedly chilly, for we were at an alt.i.tude of nearly 6000 feet. Our interpreter that was to be did not enjoy the situation and I think he dreaded meeting with the stranger Indians we might encounter. He declared he was "heap sick," and begged to be allowed to return, so Prof. gave him several days' rations and we saw him no more. There was a pretty creek in this valley flowing eastward, which Dodds said was the head of the Dirty Devil, the same stream he had followed down the year before in the attempt to find a way to bring us rations. The weather was very bad but we kept on down Potato Valley as it had been named, crossing three or four swift tributaries. About four o'clock we stopped beside a raging torrent and went into camp to reconnoitre. There were signs of some one having been here about a month before, and as the animals were shod we judged it was some prospector. The next day was so wet and Prof. was feeling so sick that we kept our camp, having made tents out of paulins and pack-covers, which gave me a chance to plot up the trail from Kanab to this point, one hundred and three miles. Instead of crossing the torrent the following day, June 5th, we went over the chief stream before the union and travelled down the right-hand side till we arrived within half a mile of the place where the river canyoned and received a tributary from the left. It cut into the rocks very abruptly and being high we could not enter the canyon as Dodds had done. While the party camped here, Prof. and Dodds rode away to the south on a dim trail to find out what move to make; how far we might be able to go down the Dirty Devil the next day. When they got back they reported finding a canyon twelve miles farther on, with many water-pockets, and concluded to go there. We arrived about noon Thursday, June 6th, making camp.

Prof. and Dodds then climbed to where they could get a wide view, and Dodds pointed out the locality he had before reached when he thought himself so near the mouth of the Dirty Devil. No sooner had he done so than Prof. perceived at once that we were not on the river we thought we were on, for by this explanation he saw that the stream we were trying to descend flowed into the Colorado far to the south-west of the Unknown Mountains, whereas he knew positively that the Dirty Devil came in on the north-east. Then the question was, "What river is this?" for we had not noted a tributary of any size between the Dirty Devil and the San Juan. It was a new river whose ident.i.ty had not been fathomed. This discovery put a different complexion on everything. The problem was more complicated than Dodds had imagined when he was trying to reach the mouth the year before.

Prof. declared it was impossible to proceed farther in this direction towards our goal. The canyon of the river was narrow, and with the stream swimming high it was out of the question as a path for us now, and even had we been able to go down far enough to get out on the other side, the region intervening between it and the distant mountains was a heterogeneous conglomeration of unknown mesas and canyons that appeared impa.s.sable. He concluded the only thing to do was to go north to the summit of the Wasatch cliffs and keep along the high land north-east to an angle where these slopes vanished to the north. From that point we might be able to cross to the Dirty Devil or Unknown Mountains. Once at these mountains we felt certain of finding a way to our former camp-ground at the mouth of the Dirty Devil River. We retraced our path to the foot of Potato Valley, and there Jones, Clem, and George Adair were sent out to Kanab for additional rations, it being plain that we were in for a longer effort than had been contemplated. They were to be here again in twelve days to meet Prof. with his party, on the return from starting down the _Canonita_ with a crew selected from the seven remaining men. This seven, which included Prof., were now to strike up a branch creek and reach the upper slopes of what he later called the Aquarius Plateau, and along its verdant slopes continue our effort to reach the Unknown Mountains. The two parties separated on Sat.u.r.day, June 8th, our contingent travelling about eighteen miles nearly due north, till just at sunset we entered a high valley in which flowed two splendid creeks. There we camped with an abundance of everything needed to make a comfortable rest for man and beast. In such travel as this the beast is almost the first consideration, for without him movement is slow and difficult and distance limited. We had gone up in alt.i.tude a great deal, 1800 or 2000 feet, and the next day, which was Sunday, we continued this upward course, seeing signs of deer and elk with an occasional sight of a fat "pine hen" winging its heavy flight from tree to tree. The pines were very tall and thick, interspersed with fir and balsam as well as with the usual accompaniment of high alt.i.tude in the West, the aspen. Our aneroids indicated 10,000 feet above sea-level, and we could look down upon the vast canyoned desert to the south as on a map. Descending into a deep canyon where a clear torrent was foaming down at the rate of five hundred feet to the mile, we went up a branch and finally pa.s.sing over a sudden crest discovered before us a very beautiful lake of an extent of some two hundred acres. It was now late, and though we had come only ten miles we went into camp for the night.

There were several smaller lagoons nearby and we named the group the Aspen Lakes. Around them in the dense groves huge s...o...b..nks still lingered from the heart of winter. A prettier mountain region than this could not be imagined, while the magnificent outlook to the south and east across the broken country was a bewildering sight, especially as the night enveloped it, deepening the mystery of its entangled gorges and cliffs. From every point we could see the Navajo Mountain and at least we knew what there was at the foot of its majestic northern slope.

I climbed far above camp and crossing over a promontory looked down upon the nebulous region to the eastward that we were to fathom, and it seemed to me one of the most interesting sights I had ever beheld. The night was so cold that ice formed in our kettles, for our alt.i.tude in feet above sea was in the ten thousand still.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Navajo Mountain from near Kaiparowits Peak.

Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872.]

All the next morning, Monday, June 10th, we rode through a delightful region of rolling meadows, beautiful groves of pines and aspens, and cool, clear creeks. Near noon we descended into a fertile valley where we crossed two superb torrential streams and camped at the second under a giant pine. Fennemore felt very sick, which prevented further progress this day, and we put in the afternoon exploring as far as we could the neighbourhood. More lakes were found and as they were in a cup-like depression we called them the "Hidden Lakes." Jack made some fine negatives of several of these pretty bodies of water, two of which I have added to the ill.u.s.trations of this volume. Not far from our camp two more splendid creeks came together to form one, which Dodds said he thought was that named by them Big Boulder, where it joined the main stream down below. The next morning, Tuesday, we began our day's work by soon crossing Cataract and Cascade creeks before they united to form the Big Boulder, rus.h.i.+ng down with an impetuosity that was forbidding. The two forming creeks were much alike, but we could see back in the distance a beautiful cascade of fully 1000 feet in which the second stream originated, and we distinguished it by that name. All day we travelled over a rancher's paradise, meeting no Indians and seeing no recent signs of any except in some filmy smoke mounting mysteriously from canyons in the tangled sandstone labyrinth below. Who were they, how many, and what might be their temper? were questions that came to us as we reflected on the presence there of unknown human beings, and furthermore would we meet them, and if so when? As on the preceding day we crossed many fine brooks which in the dry season probably would not make so vigorous a showing. Late in the afternoon, having travelled fifteen miles, we reached the point where the end of the Wasatch or Aquarius Plateau, the high slope of which we were using as a bridge from Potato Valley to the Unknown Mountains, broke back to the north, cutting us off once more from our objective, for a wide stretch, twenty-five miles in an airline, of ragged desert apparently impa.s.sable still intervened. We camped there at a convenient little spring. In the morning I was sent with Johnson for my companion in one direction down the mountain to look for some old trail, while Prof. with Dodds went in another. Scarcely had I gone half a mile when I found tolerably fresh Indian sign, and a mile or two farther on we struck a recently travelled trail. The horses that had gone over it were unshod and there were moccasin tracks indicating Indians without a doubt, but what kind of course the track did not reveal. The trail led towards the Dirty Devil Mountains, and we followed it three or four miles to ascertain with certainty its general course. There was a possibility of our stumbling upon the Indians in camp at some bend, and as this was not desirable for only two of us we turned back as soon as we felt sure of the direction.

Prof. had seen no trail at all, and he said we would take the one I had found and follow it. That night was disagreeable and rainy with numberless mosquitoes, but worst of all one of our new men always snored till the ground shook, and owing to the rain we could not get away from him, for we had to remain in the improvised tent to keep dry.

The morning light never was more welcome and we were all up early. The day was fair. We were soon off and made our way down from the gra.s.sy heights to the trail, tracing its wearisome twists and turns, sometimes thinking it was not going our way at all when the next turn would be exactly right. In general its course was about east. The land was desolate and dry, and exactly as the region appeared from above, a complete labyrinth of variously coloured cliffs and canyons. Besides being very crooked on account of the nature of the topography, the trail at times was indistinct because of the barren rocks, smooth as a floor, with nothing to take an imprint. In these places we were obliged to make the best guess we could. We came to a place where a valley lay about 1800 feet below us, with the descent to it over bare, smooth, white sandstone almost as steep as a horse could stand on. We travelled a mile and a half over this and then found ourselves in a better looking region where, after a few miles, we discovered a beautiful creek flowing rapidly. There was plenty of good gra.s.s and we made our camp beneath some cottonwood trees, having accomplished twenty miles the way we came.

Smoke of an Indian fire was rolling up about three miles below us, but we paid little attention to it. Every man delayed putting down his blankets till the champion snorer had selected the site of his bed, and then we all got as far away as the locality would permit. Having slept little the night before, we hardly stirred till morning, and in grat.i.tude we called the stream Pleasant Creek without an attempt at originality.

It was Friday, May 14th, and our long cavalcade proceeded in the usual single file down along the creek in the direction of the Indian smoke.

Scarcely had we gone three miles when suddenly we heard a yell and the bark of a dog. Then we discovered two squaws on the other side who had been gathering seeds, and who were now giving the alarm, for we were close upon an Indian camp set on the edge of a low hill on the opposite side of the creek. Our outfit presented rather a formidable appearance, especially as we were an unexpected apparition, and we could see them all running to hide, though I thought for a moment we might have a battle. Without a halt, Prof. led the way across the creek to the foot of the hill, and as we reached the place one poor old man left as a sacrifice came tottering down, so overcome by fear that he could barely articulate, "Hah-ro-ro-roo, towich-a-tick-a-boo," meaning very friendly he was, and extending his trembling hand. Doubtless he expected to be shot on the instant. With a laugh we each shook his hand in turn saying "towich-a-tick-a-boo, old man," and rode up the hill into the camp, where we found all the wickiups with everything lying about just as they had been using it at the moment of receiving the alarm. We dismounted and inducing the terrified old man to sit down in one of the wickiups, Prof. sat with him and we rolled cigarettes, giving him one, and when all were smoking, except Prof. who never used tobacco, we urged him in English and Pai Ute and by signs to call the others back. I walked a few yards out on the hill and just then, with a rush and a clatter of language I could not understand, except "Impoo immy pshakai?" (What do you want?) the two squaws who had been up the creek arrived. The foremost one, frothing at the mouth with excitement and effort, dashed at me with an uplifted butcher knife as if she would enjoy sending it into me, but I laughed at her and she halted immediately in front of me.

She broke into a maniacal laugh then and shouted something to the hidden refugees. We persuaded the old man also to call them, and he stepped out from the cedars which grew on the point and spoke a loud sentence. At last they began to appear silently and one by one. There were eight of the men, all well dressed in buckskin, and a number of women and children. When they became confident that we really meant to be friendly they relaxed their vigilance. With the hope of securing a guide and also to study them a little we went into camp in the creek bottom under the hill where they came to visit us. Their language and appearance showed them to be Utes.

When Prof. got back to Kanab he heard that a party of Red Lake Utes had killed a white boy near the Sevier settlements, and he concluded this band must have been the one. They probably thought we were pursuing them into their secret lair to punish them. Their great anxiety to trade for powder indicated their lack of that article and partly explained the precipitousness of their retreat. They had numbers of well dressed buckskins and a very small amount of powder would buy one, but as we had only metallic cartridges we could do little in the line of exchange. To satisfy one of them that we had no loose powder I removed the spring from the magazine of my Winchester and poured the sixteen cartridges out. He had never seen such a gun before and was greatly astonished, though he hardly understood how it worked. Prof. tried his best to persuade one to go with us as a guide, for the labyrinth ahead was a puzzle, but whether through fear or disinclination to leave friends not one would go. The chief gave us a minute description of the trail to the Unknown or Dirty Devil Mountains as well as he could by signs and words, some of which we could not understand, and long afterwards we learned that his information was exactly correct, though at the time through misunderstanding we were not able to follow it. They also told us there was a trail to the big river beyond the mountains.

There was a little canyon in the creek nearby and the water rushed down over a bed of bare rock at an angle of about twenty degrees. We were surprised to discover hundreds of fish six to nine inches long wriggling up the stream along one edge where the water was very shallow. They formed a line from top to bottom.

Unable to secure the guide, we left at six o'clock in the morning, Sat.u.r.day, June 15th, with all our relations cordial, the Utes going away before we did, and struck out on the trail which led south-eastward from this camp. Travelling twelve miles, we pa.s.sed through a narrow canyon into a larger one, believing that we were following the chief's direction. Recent heavy rains had washed out the trail, and not knowing its course it was impossible to keep even its general direction. Going up a left-hand branch of the canyon--that is, to the north--we found no exit, so we came down and followed a trail up the right-hand branch till it disappeared, then going back once more to the entrance we again went up the left-hand branch till we came to a vertical wall one thousand feet high, which turned us around. The right-hand one was entered another time, and towards its head where the cliffs could not be climbed we made camp, with an abundance of water which was so strongly alkaline we could not use it and had to keep the stock from it also. Our kegs were full and we did not suffer except by limitation. In the morning we continued up the same canyon till it ended in vertical cliffs, beneath which there was a large pool of pure cool water, with ferns clinging above it to the rocks and rank vegetation all around. This was an immense relief, and we found it hard to turn our backs on so attractive a spot and go down the gorge once more to a point not far below our last camp. Here the walls were about a thousand feet and very precipitous, though somewhat broken. Prof., Jack, Dodds, and I climbed out on the north and hunted for water in different directions on the top. I kept on and on down a dry wash, persisting against the objection of Dodds, who thought it useless, and was at last rewarded by discovering a pocket among the rocks containing several barrels of water, with another that was larger a short distance below in a crevice on a rock-shelf at the brink of a canyon.

We returned to camp with this news, where Prof. and Jack soon joined us.

They had found no pockets, but had seen the divide between the waters of the Colorado and the Dirty Devil, which we could follow to the mountains if we could scale the cliffs. Prof. had selected a point where he thought we could mount. With a liberal use of axe, shovel, and pick we succeeded in gaining the summit in an hour and a half. With all the cliff-climbing we had done with horses this seemed to me our paramount achievement. The day was ending by this time, and I led the way with some trepidation towards the pocket I had found, for in my haste to get back I had not carefully noted the topography. The cedars and pinons all looked alike in the twilight shades, and as I went on and on the men behind began to lose faith and made joking remarks about my mental status. I felt certain I was right, yet the distance seemed so much greater in the dusk than when I had traversed it on foot that I was a little disturbed. By the time we at last got to the pocket darkness was upon us, though n.o.body cared for anything but water, and there it was fresh and pure. The animals and ourselves (Andy filling the kettles first) consumed the entire amount, but it gave each a full drink, and we held the second pool in reserve.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Tantalus Creek.

Tributary of Fremont River.

Photograph by J. K. Hillers.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: D. Preliminary map of a portion of the northern part of the unknown country indicated by the blank s.p.a.ce on Map A at page 95, showing the course of part of Glen Canyon, the mouth of the Fremont (Dirty Devil) River, the Henry (Unknown) Mountains, and the trail of the first known party of white men to cross this area. The Escalante River, which was mistaken for the Dirty Devil, enters the Colorado just above the first letter "o" of Colorado at the bottom of the map. The Dirty Devil enters from the north at the upper right-hand side.]

When morning came we engineered a way for the animals down to the shelf where the other pocket was, twenty or thirty feet below, by pulling rocks away in places and piling them up in others. The shelf was perhaps fifty or sixty feet wide, with a sheer plunge of one thousand feet at the outer end into the first canyon we had followed. The animals could not get to the water, but we dipped it out for them in the camp kettles.

The way up from the shelf was so very steep that at one point two of us had to put our shoulders to the haunches of some of the horses to "boost" them, while other men pulled on a strong halter from above, and in this way we soon had them all watered and ready for pack and saddle.

Keeping along the divide we had comparatively easy going, with the Unknown Mountains ever looming nearer, till their blue mystery vanished and we could discern ordinary rocks and trees composing their slopes.

About noon we arrived at the edge of an intervening valley, with the wind blowing so fierce a gale that we could barely see. Crossing this depression we reached a small creek at the foot of the second mountain from the north (now Mt. Pennell), and climbed its slope seventeen hundred feet to a beautiful spring, where we camped, with plenty of fine gra.s.s for the famished horses. We had at last traversed the unknown to the unknown, and felt well satisfied with our success. If it had ever been done before by white men there was no knowledge of it.

The temperature was so low that water froze in the camp kettles, and next morning, June 18th, the thermometer stood at 28 F., with the water of the little brook running from the spring at 37 F. After breakfast Prof., Jack, and Dodds climbed the mountain on which we were camped, running their aneroid out, while with Johnson I went down the slope north, crossed the pa.s.s, and climbed the first mountain (now Mt. Ellen, after Mrs. Thompson). A severe snow-storm set in, and when we had finally attained a point where our aneroid indicated 11,200 feet above sea-level, we were obliged to turn back because of the lateness of the hour and having no coats, no food, or water. When we reached camp on the other mountain night had come. Andy had been trying to cook some beans, but the high alt.i.tude prevented the water from getting hot enough and the operation was incomplete.[30] I foolishly ate some of the beans, being very hungry, with the result that I was sick for the first time on the expedition, suffering a horrible stomach-ache. Though not disabled I was extremely uncomfortable. In the morning we started to go around north through the pa.s.s to the east side of the mountain, and I ran in the trail as usual, mounting and dismounting many times, till I was extremely glad after eight miles when we came to the head of a little creek and stopped to enable Prof. to climb the third peak (Mt. Hillers) for observations. While he was gone I was content to lie still in the shade of a bush, and finally lost my pain in sleep. Prof. got back so late that we camped where we were, much to my satisfaction. The view from our camp was extensive and magnificent, the whole Dirty Devil region lying open, like a book, below us.

We were striking for the creek up which Prof. and Cap. had come the year before from the river, for we knew that from its mouth we could easily get to where our _Canonita_ was cached. The next day, June 20th, we continued down Trachyte Creek, as Prof. called it, till four o'clock, pa.s.sing many old camps and grazing grounds, when we halted for Prof. to climb to a height. The outlook there showed him that this was not the stream whose canyon below we wanted to descend to the river, so the following morning he took Dodds and reconnoitred, the latter after a while returning with orders for us to come on eastward to another canyon. We left Trachyte Creek and reached Prof. at two o'clock. He had prospected a trail, or rather a way, to descend into the canyon over the smooth bare sandstone across which we wound back and forth for a mile, constantly going down into the strange, weird depths till at last we reached the creek bed, where a short distance below we went into camp in a beautiful green cottonwood grove, with enormous pockets of good water close by. By seven o'clock in the morning of the 22d we were going on down the deep, narrow canyon, and arrived at the Colorado at half-past ten. The river was at least fifteen feet higher than last year, and rushed by with a majestic power that was impressive. Our first unusual incident was when Prof.'s horse, in trying to drink from a soft bank, dropped down into the swift current and gave us half an hour's difficult work to get him out. When we had eaten dinner we all went up to the mouth of the Dirty Devil, where we had stored the _Canonita_, and rejoiced to find her lying just as we left her, except that the water had risen to that level and washed away one of the oars. We caulked the boat temporarily, launched her once more on the sweeping tide, and in two minutes were at our camp, where we hauled her out for the repairs necessary to make her sound for the run to the Paria.

Sunday was the next day, June 23d, and while the others rested I plotted in the trail by which we had crossed to this place so that Prof. could take it out with him, as he decided that Jack, Johnson, Fennemore, and I were to take the boat down, while he, Andy, and Dodds would go back overland to meet Jones and George Adair at the foot of Potato Valley. At five o'clock they left us, going up the same canyon we had come down and which we called Lost Creek Canyon, now Crescent Creek. The next day we recaulked and painted the boat, and I put the name _Canonita_ in red letters on the stern and a red star on each side of the bow. By Wednesday the 26th she was all ready and we put her in the water and ran down four miles to the large s.h.i.+numo house. Jack rowed the stern oars, Johnson the bow, I steered, while Fennemore sat on the middle deck. The high water completely obliterated the aggravating shoals which had bothered us the year before, and we had no work at all except to steer or to land, the current carrying us along at a good pace. We stopped occasionally for pictures and notes and got about everything that Jack and Fennemore wanted in the line of photographs. The Fourth of July we celebrated by firing fourteen rounds, and I made a lemon cake and a peach-pie for dinner. On Sunday the 8th we pa.s.sed the mouth of the stream that had been mistaken for the Dirty Devil, and which Prof. had named Escalante River. It was narrow and shallow and would not be taken at its mouth for so important a tributary. The next day we pa.s.sed the San Juan which was running a very large stream, and camped at the Music Temple, where I cut Jack's name and mine under those of the Howlands and Dunn. The rapid below was das.h.i.+ng but easy and we ran it without stopping to examine. On Friday the 12th we came to El Vado and dug up a cache we had made there the year before. Our rations for some time were nothing but bread and coffee, and we were glad to see the Echo Peaks and then run in at the mouth of the Paria on Sat.u.r.day, July 13th, with the expectation of finding men and supplies. The _Dean_ was lying high and dry on the bank and we wondered who had taken her from her hiding-place. Firing our signal shots and receiving no answer, Jack and I went up the Paria, crossing it on a log, and saw a cabin and a farm on the west side. This we knew must be Lee's. He was ploughing in a field, and when he first sighted us he seemed a little startled, doubtless thinking we might be officers to arrest him. One of his wives, Rachel, went into the cabin not far off and peered out at us. She was a fine shot as I afterwards learned. Lee received us pleasantly and invited us to take our meals at his house till our party came. As we had nothing but bread and coffee and not much of these we accepted. The fresh vegetables out of the garden, which his other wife, Mrs. Lee XVIII., served nicely cooked, seemed the most delicious food that could be prepared. Mrs. Lee XVIII. was a stout, comely young woman of about twenty-five, with two small children, and seemed to be entirely happy in the situation. The other wife, whose number I did not learn, left before dark for a house they had at Jacob's Pool and I never saw her again.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Example of Lakes on the Aquarius Plateau.

Photograph by J. K. Hillers.]

Lee had worked hard since his arrival early in the year and now had his farm in fairly good order with crops growing, well irrigated by the water he took out of the Paria. He called the place Lonely Dell, and it was not a misnomer. Johnson made arrangements to go to Kanab the next day, as he concluded that his health would not permit him to go through the Grand Canyon with us, so this was our last night with him. Lee gave me his own version of the Mountain Meadows Ma.s.sacre claiming that he really had nothing to do with it and had tried to stop it, and when he could not do so he went to his house and cried. The Pai Utes ever after called him Naguts or Crybaby.[31]

In the morning, Sunday, July 14th, Johnson departed with Lee and we expected someone to arrive to bring us news of the Major and Prof., but the sun went down once more without any message. We felt sure that Prof.