A Canyon Voyage

F >> Frederick S. Dellenbaugh >> A Canyon Voyage

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The trail across the Kaibab was not often travelled, and it was dim and
hard to follow, a faint horse track showing here and there, so I lost it
several times but quickly picked it up again, and finally came out of
the forest where I could see all the now familiar country to the west
and north. About two o'clock I arrived at Kanab and rode to Jacob's
house where Sister Louisa told me that the Major, Prof., Mrs. Thompson,
Professor De Motte, and George Adair had left that very morning for the
south end of the Kaibab on the way to the Paria, and that Jones and
Lyman Hamblin the day before had started for the Paria with a waggon
load of supplies drawn by a team of four broncho mules. Nig being very
tired I thought I would rest till morning, when he rewarded my
consideration by eluding me till ten o'clock. This gave me so late a
start that it was dark and rainy when I descended the east side of the
Kaibab, and I had to drag Nig down the 2000 feet in the gloom over
boulders, bushes, ledges, or anything else that came, for I could see
only a few feet and could not keep the trail. I reached House Rock
Spring at last and camped there. In the morning I discovered Jones and
Lyman down in the valley and joined them for breakfast, after which I
helped them start. This was no easy matter, for the four mules they had
in harness, with one exception, were as wild as mountain sheep, having
only recently been broken. Jones had been badly kicked three times, his
hands were burned by the ropes, and there was a lively time whenever the
excited animals were put to the waggon. The road was new, only a waggon
track in reality, and the mules became more and more docile through
exhaustion as the day went on. At night they were far safer to handle
than in the morning.

July 9th about dark we arrived at Lonely Dell, Lee stealing suspiciously
in behind where I was walking, to ask me who the men were and what they
wanted. We had a joyful time, especially as Steward had sent out a large
box of fine candy which we found in the mail and opened at once. Four
days later the Major and his party came from the Kaibab and we had
venison for supper. The Major said we would go on down the Colorado as
soon as possible though the water was still very high.

[Illustration: The Grand Canyon

Near mouth of Shinumo Creek

The river is in flood and the water is "colorado." Sketch made in colour
on the spot by F. S. Dellenbaugh. July 26, 1907.]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 30: We had not yet learned to put a tight cover on the bean
pot, and then by means of a big stone on the cover and a hot fire create
an artificial atmosphere within it, thus raising the temperature.]

[Footnote 31: Lee was executed for the crime five years later, 1877.
Others implicated were not punished, the execution of Lee "closing the
incident."]

CHAPTER XIV

A Company of Seven.--The _Nellie Powell_ Abandoned.--Into
Marble Canyon.--Vasey's Paradise.--A Furious Descent to the
Little Colorado.--A Mighty Fall in the Dismal Granite
Gorge.--Caught in a Trap.--Upside Down.--A Deep Plunge and a
Predicament.--At the Mouth of the Kanab.

We now missed Steward, Cap, and Beaman more than ever, for we had been
unable to get anyone to take their places. The fact was our prospective
voyage through Marble and Grand canyons was considered almost a forlorn
hope and nobody cared to take the risk. The plan had been to give me the
steering of the _Canonita_, but now with three boats and only seven to
man them it was plain that one must be abandoned. An examination of them
all showed that the _Nellie Powell_ was in the poorest condition and she
was chosen for the sacrifice. She was put back in her shelter being
afterwards used by Lee for a desultory ferry business, that developed.
About ten days before our arrival, the _Dean_ had been discovered by a
newspaper man named J. H. Beadle, and used to cross to the north side
where he left her. This was how she happened to be there when we came.
Beadle had denounced Lee and the Mormons in print and tried to conceal
his identity by assuming the name of Hanson, a plan frustrated by his
having some clothes, marked with his own name, laundered by Sister
Emma. Lee was only amused by the incident. The _Dean_ was to be manned
by the same crew as before; Jones to steer, Jack at the after oars, I at
the forward pair, and the Major in his usual place on the middle deck.
The _Canonita_ was to have Prof. as steersman, Andy at the stroke oars,
and Clem in the bow, Clem having gotten all over his inclination to
leave and being determined now to see the end of the voyage before he
departed.

The same day that the Major and his party arrived, Jack and I, with
Jones steering, tried the _Dean_ by taking Mrs. Thompson, Professor
DeMotte, and Lyman Hamblin up the river so that they might see what a
canyon was like from a boat. Mrs. Thompson was so enthusiastic that she
declared she wanted to accompany us. Prof. took her as passenger on the
_Canonita_ about half-past four on Wednesday, August 14th, when we had
completed the sacking and packing of provisions, and with both boats ran
down through a small rapid or two about a mile and a half, where we
camped at the mouth of a little canyon down which the waggon-road came.
Mrs. Thompson enjoyed the exhilaration of descending the swift rushing
water and still thought it attractive. I went to Lee's and brought down
the Major's arm-chair for our boat, and saw Fennemore who was very sick.
We made our final preparations at this point, and I spent most of
Thursday morning helping the Major get his papers in order so that if we
did not appear again his affairs could be readily settled. This required
considerable writing, which I did, for the Major wrote slowly with his
left hand, the only one he had. We dined with Lee, having the first
watermelon of the season for dessert. Lee was most cordial and we could
not have asked better treatment than he gave us the whole time we were
at Lonely Dell. In the afternoon our land outfit left for Kanab and we
said a last good-bye to the men, who looked as if they never expected to
see us again. Only the "Tirtaan Aigles" remained, and there were but
seven of these now. The next day we put the finishing touches on the
boats, and while we were doing this our late fellow voyageur Beaman, and
a companion named Carleton, passed on their way to the Moki Towns where
Beaman wanted to make photographs. All being ready the next day,
Saturday, August 17th, we pushed out on the mighty Colorado about nine
o'clock and by noon ran into Marble Canyon, nearly five miles, passing
one small rapid and another of considerable size on a river about one
hundred feet wide and extremely swift, with straight walls rapidly
increasing from the fifty feet or so at the Paria. Marble Canyon while
differing in name is but the upper continuation of the Grand Canyon,
there being no line of demarkation other than a change in geological
structure and the entrance of the canyon of the Little Colorado. The
combined length of the two divisions is 283 miles and the declivity is
very great. The altitude of the mouth of the Paria is 3170 feet, while
the Grand Wash at the end of the Grand Canyon is 840 feet, leaving a
descent of 2330 feet still before us.

At our dinner camp, which was on a talus on the left, the walls were
about 500 feet and quite precipitous, but I was able to climb out on the
right to get a view of the surroundings. After dinner we went on in our
usual order, our boat the _Dean_ in advance and the _Canonita_
following. The photographing now devolved entirely on Jack and Clem;
Andy as usual ran the culinary branch of the expedition, Jones and Prof.
meandered the river. We had not gone far after dinner before we were
close upon a bad-looking rapid, a drop of about eighteen feet in a
distance of 225, which we concluded to defeat by means of a portage on
the right-hand bank. As we knew exactly what to do no time was wasted
and we were soon below, sweeping on with a stiff current which brought
us, in about ten miles from our morning start and five from the noon
halt, to a far worse rapid than the last, a fall of twenty-five feet in
four or five hundred, with very straight walls six hundred feet high on
both sides. The Major concluded to leave the passage of it till the next
day, and we went into camp at the head. This was the rapid where
disaster fell on the miners, ten in number, who in the spring had stolen
a lot of our things at the Paria and started down prospecting on a raft.
They saved their lives but not another thing, and after a great deal of
hard work they succeeded by means of driftwood ladders in climbing to
the top of the walls and made their way to the settlement. This is now
called Soap Creek Rapid, being at the mouth of the canyon by which the
little stream of that name reaches the river,--a little stream which at
times is a mighty torrent. In a small rapid following or in the final
portion of this, I believe, is the place where Frank M. Brown, leader of
the Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway Survey, was drowned in
1889.

We began work on Sunday, August 18th, by making the portage and had no
trouble of any kind, Jack and Clem making some photographs before we
finally said good-bye to the place. Continuing on our way we found the
river very narrow, not over seventy-five feet in many places and ranging
from that to two hundred, with frequent whirlpools strong enough to
swing our boats entirely around. Before dinner-time we had put five
large rapids behind, and then we halted under a ledge on the left a
short distance above a very ugly and difficult prospect. There was an
exceedingly heavy descent and a soft sandstone being at the river margin
it was worn away, giving little chance for a footing by which to make a
portage. The Major and Prof. decided that we could run it safely, and
after dinner we shot into it, both boats going through in fine style.
Just below was another smaller one that was vanquished easily, and we
went swiftly on down the swirling, booming current. Rain fell at
intervals to continue our saturation, and with four more rapids, all of
which we ran, one having quite a heavy fall, there was little chance for
us to dry out. At one point we passed an enormous rock which had dropped
from the cliffs overhead and almost blocked the whole river. Then we
arrived at a huge rapid whose angry tones cried so distinctly, "No
running through here," that we did not hesitate but began a let down
forthwith, and when that was accomplished we camped at the foot of it
for the night, having come eleven and three-eighths miles during the
day. The rapid was extremely noisy and the roaring reverberated back and
forth from cliff to cliff as it ascended to the top, 1800 feet, to
escape into the larger air. The walls had two or three terraces and were
not over three quarters of a mile apart at the summit, the cliff
portions being nearly or quite perpendicular. The rocks, of all sizes,
which were legion at each rapid, were frequently dovetailed into each
other by the action of the current and so neatly joined in a serrated
line that they were practically one.

[Illustration: Thompson

Marble Canyon.

Photograph by J. K. Hillers, 1872.]

The rapidity with which the water went down and the walls went up as we
cut into the plateau gave a vivid impression of descending into the very
bowels of the earth, and this impression seemed daily to intensify. On
Monday, August 19th, the same conditions prevailed, the walls being of
marble mostly vertical from the water's edge for about seven hundred
feet, and then rising by four terraces to two thousand feet, all stained
red by the disintegration of iron-stained rocks overhead though the
marble is a grey colour. We only made four and one-quarter miles and
established Camp 90 on the left, just below a big rapid and in sight of
another, with a record for the whole day of four rapids run, three
passed by let-downs, and one overcome by a portage. The next day we did
not accomplish a much greater distance, only about nine miles, but we
were highly successful in our encounters with the enemy, running no less
than twelve big rapids and making a portage at another to round out the
dozen on the baker's proverbial basis. The average width of the canyon
at the top was about one and a quarter miles, while the breadth of the
water itself plunging along the bottom was not more than 125 feet, and
the total height of wall was 2500 feet. We had marble at the river
margin most of the day, a greyish crystalline rock fluted
multitudinously in places by the action of high water and sometimes
polished like glass. While this was a grey rock the entire effect of the
canyon, for the reason stated above, was red. On the right bank we made
our camp on some sand at the mouth of a gulch, and immediately put on
our dry clothes from the boats. Not far below on the same side was what
appeared to be a vast ruined tower. Around the indentations which
answered for crumbling windows bunches of mosses and ferns were draped,
while from the side, about one hundred feet up from the river, clear
springs broke forth to dash down amidst verdure in silvery skeins. The
whole affair formed a striking and unusual picture, the only green that
so far had been visible in the canyon landscape, for the walls from
brink to river were absolutely barren of trees or any apparent
vegetation. On the former trip the Major had named the place after a
botanist friend of his, Vasey's (Vaysey) Paradise, and this was now
recorded in our notes. All day long we had seen in the magnificent walls
besides caverns and galleries resemblances to every form of
architectural design, turrets, forts, balconies, castles, and a thousand
strange and fantastic suggestions from the dark tower against which
Childe Roland with his slug-horn blew defiance, to the airy structures
evolved by the wonderful lamp of Aladdin.

Starting down again on Wednesday morning we ran past the Paradise and
heard a little bird singing there amidst the spray and mosses, a
delicate note seeming out of place amidst such gigantic desolation. Only
the boom of great cannon or the tone of some enormous organ pipe would
be correct with the surroundings. The walls at the water's edge were
vertical for long distances up to eight hundred feet, and being now in
all about three thousand feet and not a great ways apart, the outlook
ahead was something almost overpowering in its deep suggestion of
mysterious and untold realms to come. On the first voyage it would have
been easy to persuade oneself that the river was soon to become
subterranean, but the Major having solved the enigma, we could look with
indifference on the threatening prospect. Yet the walls nevertheless
seemed to have a determination to close together overhead as we looked
down the descending waters before us, with cliff mounting on cliff and
the distance from one to the other appearing so very small. Deep and
sombre were the shadows at the bends, and the imagination needed no spur
to picture there rapids, falls, cataracts, of giant proportions. We made
nearly eleven miles and ran ten very big rapids, meeting with no
accident, though one was particularly violent and filled us half full of
water in the fierce breakers. The stage of water was exactly right for
this stretch; a lower stage would certainly have given us far more
trouble. Our stop for the night, Camp 92, was made on a wide sandbank on
the left, with some mesquite growing nearby, our first acquaintance with
this tree on the river. We now were getting on so well and were so
comfortable that we felt quite happy and Jack as usual entertained us
with several songs. The next day, Thursday the 22d, Jack and Clem took
some photographs in the morning and I hunted fossils for the Major in
the limestone shales which had run up under the marble. By nine o'clock
we were packed up again in our usual good form, everything in the rubber
sacks, hatches firmly battened down, life-preservers ready, and we set
forth for another day's battle. There were numerous large rapids and the
impetuous river, turbid and grim, rushed down with a continuity that
kept us alert every instant. Though we descended with terrific velocity,
nothing gave us any particular trouble before dinner, which we ate in
the shade of a mesquite on the right at the mouth of a couple of giant
gulches. Here we discovered a large patch of cacti loaded with the red
prickly pears or cactus apples, as we called them. They were
ripe,--seeming to me to be half way between a fig and a tomato,--and
very welcome for dessert, as we had eaten no fresh fruit since a
watermelon brought along as far as the first noon camp. All the
vegetation was different from that of the upper canyons and of a kind
indicating a hotter climate; cacti, yucca, etc. In the afternoon the
walls became greater, the river ran swifter, the descent seemed almost
without a break, for rapid followed rapid in such quick succession that
it was next to impossible to separate them one from another. At times we
could barely maintain control of the boats so powerful and uninterrupted
was the turbulent sweep of the great narrow flood. At one place as we
were being hurled along at a tremendous speed we suddenly perceived
immediately ahead of us and in such a position that we could not avoid
dashing into it, a fearful commotion of the waters, indicating many
large rocks near the surface. The Major stood on the middle deck, his
life-preserver in place, and holding by his left hand to the arm of the
well secured chair to prevent being thrown off by the lurching of the
boat, peered into the approaching maelstrom. It looked to him like the
end for us and he exclaimed calmly, "By God, boys, we're gone!" With
terrific impetus we sped into the seething, boiling turmoil, expecting
to feel a crash and to have the _Dean_ crumble beneath us, but instead
of that unfortunate result she shot through smoothly without a scratch,
the rocks being deeper than appeared by the disturbance on the surface.
We had no time to think over this agreeable delivery, for on came the
rapids or rather other rough portions of the unending declivity
requiring instant and continuous attention, the Major rapidly giving the
orders, Left, right, hard on the right, steady, hard on the left, _hard
on the left_, h-a-r-d on the left, pull away strong, etc.,
Jones aiding our oars by his long steering sweep. Rowing for progress
was unnecessary; the oars were required only for steering or for pulling
as fast as we could to avoid some bad place.

At the same time the walls constantly gained height as the torrent cut
down its bed till both together, with the rapidity of our movement,
fairly made one dizzy. In turning a bend we saw back through a gulch the
summit of the Kaibab's huge cliffs, the total height above our heads
being over five thousand feet; a sublime vista. The immediate walls of
Marble Canyon were here about 3500 feet, not all vertical but rising in
buttresses, terraces, and perpendicular faces, while immediately at the
river they were now generally flanked by talus or broken ledges giving
ample footing, as seen in the illustration opposite page 219. Words are
not adequate to describe this particular day in Marble Canyon; it must
be experienced to be appreciated and I will not strive further to convey
my impressions. As the sun sank to the western edge of the outer world
we were rushing down a long straight stretch of canyon, and the colossal
precipices looming on all sides, as well as dead ahead across our
pathway, positively appeared about to overwhelm the entire river by
their ponderous magnificence, burnished at their summits by the dying
sun. On, down the headlong flood our faithful boats carried us to the
gloom that seemed to be the termination of all except subterranean
progress, but at the very bottom of this course there was a bend to the
west, and we found ourselves at the mouth of a deep side canyon coming
in from the east, with a small stream flowing into the big river. This
was the mouth of the Little Colorado and the end at last of Marble
Canyon, one of the straightest, deepest, narrowest, and most majestic
chasms of the whole long series. It also had more wall rising vertically
from the water's edge than any other canyon we had encountered.

Our distance for the day was eighteen miles with eighteen rapids, one
nearly three miles long and all following each other so closely they
were well-nigh continuous. We ran seventeen and made one let-down. It
was a glorious day and a fitting preparation for our entrance into the
next stupendous canyon which the Major styled the "Sockdologer of the
World," the now famous Grand Canyon.[32] Our altitude was 2690 feet,
giving a descent in the sixty-five and one-half miles of Marble Canyon
of 480 feet, leaving 1850 feet still to be overcome before we could
reach the mouth of the Grand Wash and the end of the Grand Canyon. I
counted sixty-three rapids in Marble Canyon, Prof. sixty-nine. We made
four portages and let down by line six times.

[Illustration: Canyon of the Little Colorado.

Photograph by C. Barthelmess.]

Our Camp 93 was on the left bank of the Little Colorado, and there we
remained for Friday, August 23d, to reconnoitre the neighbourhood, and
to give Prof. an opportunity to get the latitude and longitude. The
Little Colorado was a red stream about sixty feet wide and four or five
deep, salty and impossible to drink. The Great Colorado was also muddy
and not altogether palatable, for one's hand dipped in and allowed to
dry became encrusted with sediment; but the water otherwise was pure.
The river had been rapidly rising for several days and was still coming
up so that we were likely to have in the Grand Canyon more water than we
required. I climbed up the wall on the north side of the Little Colorado
thinking I might be able to reach the summit, but when about half-way up
I met vast and vertical heights that were impossible and returned to
camp. The next morning, Saturday, August 24th, we packed up and entered
the Grand Canyon proper on an easy river, making about five miles in
half an hour and putting behind six rapids all small, camping at the
head of one that was more threatening. Here a little creek came in from
the right, or west, near camp. The canyon was wider than above, and we
could see the summits around that were six thousand feet above the
river, but some miles back. In the morning I made a geological sketch,
and in the afternoon I climbed a high peak and put in some of the
topography. The next morning we crossed the river to examine a large
igneous butte where we found a small vein of copper ore, and after
dinner Prof. and I climbed a couple of peaks and did some triangulating.
Monday the 26th found us still at Camp 94 to further investigate the
surroundings, and the Major, Prof., Jones, and I climbed up on the north
about 2600 feet in order to get a better idea of the several valleys
which here seemed to compose the bottom of the great chasm, and did not
reach camp till after dark. Everything now developed on a still larger
and grander scale; we saw before us an enormous gorge, very wide at the
top, which could engulf an ordinary mountain range and lose it within
its vast depths and ramifications. Multitudinous lofty mesas, buttes,
and pinnacles began to appear, each a mighty mountain in itself, but
more or less overwhelmed by the greater grandeur of the Cyclopean
environment.

Tuesday, August 27th, after Prof. had put a new tube in the second
barometer which had somehow been broken, we pushed off once more to see
what the day would develop. The rapid just below camp we ran through
easily and then made swift progress for seven miles, running nine more
rapids, two rather bad ones. The _Canonita_ grounded once on a shoal but
got off without damage. Where we stopped for dinner we caught sight of
two mountain sheep drinking, and Andy and I got our guns out of the
cabins as quickly as possible and started after them, but they flew away
like birds of the air. Near this point there was a small abandoned hut
of mesquite logs. We went into camp farther down on the left for
investigations, the Major and I going up the river and finding a small
salty creek which we followed for a time on an old trail, the Major
studying the geology and collecting specimens of the rocks, which we
carried back to camp, arriving after dark. The geology and topography
here were complicated and particularly interesting, and we ought to have
been able to spend more days, but the food question, as well as time,
was a determining factor in our movements, and with only two boats our
rations would carry us with necessary stops only to the mouth of the
Kanab Canyon where our pack-train would meet us on September 4th. There
was no other place above Diamond Creek known at that time, except
perhaps the spot near Mount Trumbull, where supplies could be brought
in. On Wednesday we ran two or three miles and stopped for our
photographers to get some views opposite a rust-coloured sandstone. We
also had dinner at this place and then continued the descent. After
running four rapids successfully, making a let-down at another, and a
portage over the upper end of a sixth we were ready, having made in all
six miles, to go into camp part way down the last, one of the heaviest
falls we had so far encountered. It was perhaps half a mile long, with a
declivity of at least forty feet, studded by numerous enormous boulders.
A heavy rain began during our work of getting below, and our clothes
being already wet the air became very chilly. We had to carry the
cargoes only a short distance, with no climbing, and there was ample
room so the portage was not difficult in that respect. But though we
could manoeuvre the empty boats down along the shore amidst the big
rocks, they were exceedingly heavy for our small band, and in sliding
them down between the huge masses, with the water pouring around and
often into them, we sometimes had as much as we could do to manage them,
each man being obliged to strain his muscle to the limit. Jack from this
cause hurt his back so badly that he could not lift at all, and overcome
by the sudden weakness and pain he came near sinking into the swift
river at the stern of the _Dean_ where he happened at the moment to be
working. I heard his cry and clambered over to seize him as quickly as I
could, helping him to shore, where we did all that was possible for his
comfort. As we were going no farther that day he was able to rest, and
in the morning felt much better, though his back was still weak. Andy
took his place in our boat to run the lower end of the rapid, which was
easily done. We landed below on the same side, enabling Andy to go back
to help bring down the _Canonita_, while Jack walked along the rocks to
where we were. Here we remained for a couple of hours while I climbed up
for the Major and measured the "Red Beds," and Jack rested again,
improving very fast. When we were ready to go on his trouble had almost
disappeared.

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