Richard Runciman Terry - "The Shanty Book, Part I, Sailor Shanties"

Thomas Henry Huxley - "This is Essay #4 from Science and Hebrew Tradition"

Sir Rabindranath Tagore - "Glimpses of Bengal"

Various - "Georgian Poetry 1911 12"

Editorial
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

A Canyon Voyage

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




Beaman took some negatives here. This was not the easy matter that the
dry-plate afterwards made it, for the dark tent had to be set up, the
glass plate flowed with collodion, then placed in the silver bath, and
exposed wet in the camera, to be immediately developed and washed and
placed in a special box for carriage.

This would have been an ideal place for a hunter. Numerous fresh tracks
of grizzlies were noticed all around, but we did not have the good luck
to see any of the animals themselves. Happy grounds these canyons were
at that time for the bears, and they may still be enjoying the seclusion
the depths afford. The spot had an additional interest for us because it
was here that on the first trip the brush caught fire soon after the
party had landed, and they were forced to take to the boats so
unceremoniously that they lost part of their mess-kit and some clothing.

On leaving Alcove Brook we ran a rapid and then another a little farther
on, but they were easy and the river was much calmer though the current
was still very swift. At the same time the walls to our satisfaction
began to give indications of breaking. They became less high, less
compact, and we ventured to hope that our battle with the waters of
Lodore was about over. The Major said that, as nearly as he could
remember, the end of the great gorge was not very far below. Though the
sky was beginning to show the evening tints we kept on and ever on,
swiftly but smoothly, looking up at the sky and at the splendid walls.
The sun went down. The chasm grew hazy with the soft light of evening
and the mystery of the bends deepened. There was no obstruction and in
about three miles from Alcove Brook we rather abruptly emerged into a
beautiful small opening, where the immediate walls were no more than six
hundred feet high. A river of considerable size flowed in on the left,
through a deep and narrow canyon. This was the Yampa, sometimes then
called Bear River. By seven o'clock we had moored the boats a few yards
up its mouth and we made a comfortable camp in a box-elder grove. We
had won the fight without disaster and we slept that night in peace.

Lodore is wholly within the State of Colorado. It is 20-3/4 miles long
with a descent of 420 feet,[9] mostly concentrated between Disaster
Falls and Hell's Half-Mile, a distance of about 12 miles. The total
descent from the Union Pacific crossing was 975 feet in a distance, as
the river runs, of about 153 miles.

[Illustration: Echo Park.

Mouth of Yampa River in Foreground, Green River on Right.

Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871.]


FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 7: Professor Thompson's diary says he landed first after a
hard pull, "and then caught the other boats below, they not succeeding
in getting in."]

[Footnote 8: In his report the Major ascribes the naming of this cliff
to an evening on the first voyage. The incident could hardly have
occurred twice even had the camps been in the same place.]

[Footnote 9: In my _Romance of the Colorado River_ these figures were
changed to 275 because of barometrical data supplied me which was
supposed to be accurate. I have concluded that it was not.]




CHAPTER V

A Remarkable Echo--Up the Canyon of the Yampa--Steward and
Clem Try a Moonlight Swim--Whirlpool Canyon and Mountain
Sheep--A Grand Fourth-of-July Dinner--A Rainbow-Coloured
Valley--The Major Proceeds in Advance--A Split Mountain with
Rapids a Plenty--Enter a Big Valley at Last.


The little opening between canyons we named Echo Park, first because
after the close quarters of Lodore it seemed very park-like, and second
because from the smooth bare cliff directly opposite our landing a
distinct echo of ten words was returned to the speaker. I had never
before, and have never since, heard so clear and perfect an echo with so
many words repeated. We were camped on the right bank of the Yampa as
the left was a bottom land covered with cedars and we preferred higher
ground. This bottom was an alluvial deposit triangular in shape about a
mile long and a quarter of a mile wide with the Yampa and Green on two
sides and a vertical sandstone wall on the third. Behind our camp the
rocks broke back in a rough, steep slope for perhaps a quarter of a
mile, and this with the bottom-land and the lack of height in the walls
near the river conveyed an impression of wide expanse when compared with
the narrow limits in which we had for eight days been confined. The
Green was here about 400 feet wide and was held in on the western side
of the park by the Echo Cliff which was a vertical wall some 600 feet
high composed of homogeneous sandstone, and consequently almost without
a crack from top to bottom where its smooth expanse dropped below the
surface of the water. It extended down river about three-fourths of a
mile, the river doubling around its southern end.

The next day after arriving here most of us did not feel like doing any
climbing and remained around camp, mending clothes and other articles,
adjusting things that had become deranged by our rough work in the last
canyon, recording notes, and making entries in diaries. Prof. took
observations for latitude and longitude to establish the position of the
Yampa so that it could be properly placed on the map. The Major during
an exploring trip from the eastward in 1868 had reached the Yampa
Canyon, but he could not cross it. He now decided to go up with a boat
as far as possible in three days to supplement his former observations
as well as to study the canyon in general. He had estimated its length
at thirty miles, and this has proved to be correct. The _Dean_ was
unloaded, and with three days' rations the Major started with her in the
morning manned by Jack, Beaman, Jones, and Andy. Of course they were all
still tired from the strain of Lodore, and they were not enthusiastic
about seeing the Yampa. In such work as was common through Lodore, it is
as much the tension on the nerves, even though this is not realised at
the time, as it is the strain on the muscles in transporting the cargoes
and the boats, which makes one tired. I was entirely satisfied not to
go with the Yampa party and I believe all the others left behind felt
much the same.

Steward with Clem, when the Yampa expedition had gone, started back over
the cliffs for Alcove Brook to geologise, leaving Prof. busy with
observation, Cap. plotting the topographical notes and making his map
thereby, and me with no special duty at the time. Every man who wants to
be efficient in the field must learn to cook. This was my opportunity as
Andy was absent and the others had their special work on hand, so I
turned my attention to the culinary realm. A few directions and an
example from Cap. who was a veteran gave me the method and I succeeded
as my first offering, in placing before my comrades some biscuits hot
from the Dutch oven, which compared favourably with those of Andy
himself. With the constant practice Andy by this time had become an
expert. The day wore away and at evening I got supper with more biscuits
of which I was proud, but Steward and Clem failed to come to partake of
them as we expected. Darkness fell and still there was dead silence
outside of our camp. Much concerned we then ate supper momentarily
expecting to hear their voices, but they did not come. Something had
happened, but we could not follow their trail till morning to find out
what it was. At ten o'clock we gave them up for the night deeply
troubled about them. I had been sitting alone by the fire keeping the
coffee hot and listening, when suddenly I heard a crackling of the
bushes between me and the river and in a second or two Clem, laughing as
over a joke, came to the fire with the water running off him in streams.
While I was trying to get an explanation Steward also appeared in the
same condition. At first they would not tell what had occurred but
finally they confessed on condition that I would keep the matter a
secret. They had made a long hard climb and late in the afternoon had
come to a place where Steward found it necessary to descend to the river
in examining the strata. They intended to climb back, but when the work
was done the sun had set and it was too late to venture up as they could
not climb in the dark. Rather than stay there all night they made a raft
of two little dead cedars and tying their shoes upon it, they waited for
the moon to rise. This was very soon and they slipped into the current
relying on the raft merely to keep their heads above water. They knew
there were no rapids between them and camp but they did not properly
estimate the velocity of the river and the eddies and whirlpools. They
kept near the left wall so as not to be carried past camp and in this
they made a great mistake for they were caught in a whirlpool caused by
a projection, and the raft was wrenched from them while they were
violently thrown around. Steward being a powerful swimmer succeeded
after nearly going under for good in regaining the raft which Clem
meanwhile had been losing and recovering quickly several times. He was
not a good swimmer. After this whirlpool was passed they reached the
locality of our camp with no further adventure. They were very desirous
that the story be kept from the rest of the party but they had hardly
finished telling me when Prof. came and insisted on knowing what had
occurred. Their punishment for this indiscretion was the hard climb back
again to where they had left a rifle and other things that must be
recovered.

A delightful episode of this camp was a row which several of us made up
the Yampa in the moonlight. As far as we went the current was not swift
and we were able to pull gently along under the great cliffs in shadows
made luminous by the brilliancy of the moon. A song the Major was fond
of singing, _Softly and Sweetly it Comes from Afar_, almost
involuntarily, sprang from us all, though our great songster, Jack, was
not with us. Jack had an extensive repertory, an excellent voice, and a
hearty, exuberant spirit. He would sing _Write Me a Letter from Home_,
_The Colleen Bawn_, _The Lone Starry Hours_, _Beautiful Isle of the
Sea_, and many others in a way that brought tranquillity to our souls.
We missed him on this evening but nevertheless our song sounded well,
echoing from wall to wall, and we liked it. Somehow or other that night
remains one of the fairest pictures I have ever seen.

Another day I went with Steward down across the triangular bottom to the
lower end of the park where we climbed out through the canyon of a
little brook to a sandy and desolate plateau. Currant bushes laden with
fruit abounded and there were tracks of grizzlies to be seen. Possibly
some may have been lying in the dense underbrush, but if so they kept
their lairs as these bears generally do unless directly disturbed.

On the 30th of June Prof., Steward, and Cap. went for a climb. They
proceeded to the lower end of the park by boat and through the little
canyon that came in there, got out to the plateau where Steward and I
had before been, but there they went farther. After a very hard climb
they succeeded in reaching the crest where they had a broad view and
could see nearly all of the next canyon with its rapids which we would
have to pass through; the canyon the Major had called Whirlpool on his
first trip. They could also see the Yampa River for twenty miles and
discovered the _Dean_ coming back down that stream, their attention
being attracted by a gunshot in that direction, which they knew could be
only from our own men. In camp during the day I again experimented in
the culinary department, and produced two dried-apple pies, one of which
Clem and I ate with an indescribable zest, and the other we kept to
astonish the absentees with when they should reach camp. I have since
learned that my method of pie-making was original I soaked the dried
apples till they were soft then made a crust which had plenty of bacon
grease in it for shortening and put the apples with sugar between,
baking the production in the Dutch oven.

About five o'clock the Yampa explorers came. They were ragged, tired,
and hungry having had nothing to eat all day, and not enough any day, as
the Major had not taken sufficient supplies in his desire to make the
boat light. They were all rather cross, the only time on the whole
expedition that such a state existed, but when they had eaten and rested
their genial spirits came back, they even liked my pie, and they told us
about their struggle up the canyon.

We were all rather sorry to pull away from this comfortable camp at the
mouth of the Yampa on July 3d, but the rapids of Whirlpool were
challenging and we had to go and meet them. At the foot of Echo Park the
Green doubles directly back on itself for a mile as it turns Echo Rock,
the narrow peninsula of sandstone 600 feet high. The canyon became
suddenly very close and assumed a formidable appearance. We listened for
the roar of a rapid but for some time nothing was heard. The splendour
of the walls impressed us deeply rising 2000 feet, many coloured,
carved, and terraced elaborately. Our admiration was interrupted by a
suggestive roar approaching and suddenly a violent rapid appeared. There
was ample room and we got below it by a let-down, that is by lowering
the boats one at a time with their cargoes on board, along the margin,
working in and out of the side currents. Then we had dinner while
waiting for the _Canonita_ which had remained behind for pictures.

A part of my work was to make a continuous outline sketch of the left
wall for the use of the geologists and this I was able to do as we went
along. I had a pocket on the bulkhead in front of my seat in which I
kept a sole leather portfolio, which I could use quickly and replace in
the waterproof pocket.

The walls of the canyon became more flaring as soon as the rapid was
passed at noon, but they lost none of their majesty. We now expected
very bad river and whirlpools from the experience of the first party,
but the river is never twice alike. Not only does its bottom shift, but
every variation in stage of water brings new problems or does away with
them entirely. It was an agreeable surprise to be able to run three
rapids with ease by four o'clock, when we saw on some rocks two hundred
feet above the stream a flock of mountain sheep. An immediate landing
was made with fresh mutton in prospect. Unluckily our guns in
anticipation of severe work had all been securely packed away, and it
was some moments before they could be brought out. By that time the
sheep had nimbly gone around a corner of the wall where a large side
canyon was now discovered bringing in a fine creek. It was useless to
follow the sheep though one or two made a brief trial, and camp was made
in a cottonwood grove at the mouth of the creek. Cottonwoods fringed the
stream as far as it could be seen from our position. Brush Creek we
called it believing it to be the mouth of a stream in the back country
known by that name. The next day, two or three miles up, a branch was
found to come from the south, and as this was thought to be Brush Creek,
the larger one was named after Cap., and "Bishop's Creek" was put on our
map. Doubtless there are plenty of trout in this creek and in others we
had passed, but we had no proper tackle for trout and besides seldom had
time for fishing when at these places. Jack, when not too tired, fished
in the Green and generally had good success. Our present locality would
have been a rare place for a month or two's sojourn had we been
sportsmen with time on our hands. Sheep, deer, and bear existed in
abundance as well as smaller game, but we had to forget it though none
of us cared about shooting for fun. Our minds were on other things.
Often we went out leaving rifles behind as they were heavy in a climb.

[Illustration: Whirlpool Canyon.

Mouth of Bishop Creek--Fourth of July Camp.

Photograph by E. O. Beaman, 1871.]

Scarcely had we settled ourselves in this beautiful camp when we
discovered that we ourselves were the hunted, and by an enemy that we
could not vanquish--ants. There was no place in the neighbourhood that
was out of their range. The best I could do was to make my bed two feet
from the nearest hill and let them have their way. Morning was hailed
with unusual delight for this reason and also because it was the
"glorious Fourth," a day that every American remembers wherever he may
be. We fired several rounds as a salute, and the Major concluded to keep
this camp till the next morning. To enable Andy to have a day off and a
climb out with a party to the open, I agreed to run the cook outfit, and
felt highly complimented that they were willing to trust me after the
pie episode. I immediately resolved to try my skill again in that
quarter and expected to astonish the camp. I succeeded. The bill of fare
which I evolved was ham, dried-apple pie, dried apples stewed, canned
peaches, sugar syrup, bread, coffee, and some candy from Gunther's in
Chicago. The candy had been presented to me at Green River Station by
some passing friends, and I had hidden it in my bag waiting for this
grand occasion. Ham was quite as much of a luxury as candy, for we had
started with but three or four, and only used them on special days. As
for the canned peaches, they were the only ones we had. The supper was a
memorable one; not a grumble was heard from anybody, indeed they all
praised it, and the only drawback, from my point of view, was that the
scouting party did not return early enough to taste it in its prime. The
Major threatened to expel the member who had smuggled in the candy as
all the men declared they would go no farther unless they could have a
plate of it for desert at every meal!

The next morning we were on the river early, glad to get away from the
army of ants. The canyon walls ran along at about the same height as on
the previous day, about 2400 feet, and while the river was swift and
full of rapids everything seemed to favour us. Before halting for dinner
we had run five rapids, three rather ugly, as well as letting down past
one with lines. From where a stop was made for Andy's noonday
operations, a flock of sheep was seen on the opposite side, and several
went after them with no result but disappointment. When we started again
we ran a rapid at once, then let down past the next, and followed that
by running two more, the last the worst. The boats bumped occasionally
on hidden rocks, but no harm was done them. The whole canyon was
exceedingly beautiful, nevertheless we did not mourn when late in the
afternoon, just after running the last rapid, the magnificent cliffs
fell back and we saw more sky than at any time since leaving Brown's
Park. On the right the rocks melted away into beautiful rainbow-coloured
hills while on the left they remained steep, though retreating a mile or
so from the water. The stretch of sky seemed enormous. Breathing
appeared to be easier. The eye grows weary with the short range views,
and yearns for space in which to roam.

The valley we were now in was not long; about four miles in a straight
line, with a width of two. In this space the river meanders nine miles,
one detour being very long. It spreads also amongst a number of islands,
and the numerous channels became shallow till our keels grated here and
there. Then they concentrated once more and we floated along on waters
deep and black and slow. The marvellous colouring in the surrounding
landscape impressed us, and the Major was for a time uncertain whether
to call this "Rainbow" or "Island" Park, the decision finally being
given to the latter. Shortly before sunset our meanderings terminated at
the foot of the valley where the river once more entered the rocks, in a
gateway as abrupt, though not as imposing as that of Lodore. A fine
grove of box-elders on the right just above this gate, offered an
attractive camping place, and there we stopped.

We were now in Utah again, having crossed the boundary somewhere in
Whirlpool Canyon. The altitude was 4940 feet, showing a descent in
Whirlpool Canyon of 140 feet in a distance of 14-1/4 miles. The next day
I went with Beaman and Clem with a boat back to the foot of Whirlpool
Canyon, in order that Beaman might get some views. It was a hard pull,
and we discovered that what appears sluggish going down, is often the
reverse to a boat going up. We could make headway only by keeping very
close to the bank. It was supper-time when we again reached camp. The
Major now announced that he intended to take the _Dean_ and go on ahead,
without stopping anywhere, to the mouth of the Uinta River, leaving us
to follow as we could in doing the work. Cap. was to be taken in my
place because of his previous experience in the army and in the West.
That evening all was made ready. By break of day the camp was astir,
breakfast was disposed of as quickly as possible, the _Dean_ was manned,
the Major went to his place on the middle cabin, they cast off and
disappeared in the canyon gate. We then called this "Craggy Canyon," but
later it was changed to Split Mountain.

All of the others crossed the river to climb to the top of the cliffs
for observations and for photographs. I was left alone to watch camp. I
longed to experiment further in the cooking line, and discovering a bag
of ground coffee leaning against the foot of a tree, I said to myself,
"coffee cake." I had heard of it, I had eaten it, I would again surprise
the boys. I had no eggs, no butter, no milk (condensed milk was unknown
at that time), but I had flour, water, cream of tartar, saleratus,
sugar, salt, and ground coffee. I thought these quite enough, and went
at my task. The mixture I made I put in a small tin and baked in the
Dutch oven. I was so much occupied with this interesting experiment that
I forgot all about time and about having something substantial ready for
the return of the hungry climbers, so when they did come about noon, as
famished as coyotes and dead tired, all I could offer was _the_ cake,
ever after famous on that trip, a brown, sugary solid, some six inches
in diameter, two inches thick, and betraying its flavour everywhere by
the coffee-grounds scattered lavishly through it. Andy gave it one brief
sad look, and then went to work to get dinner. But they were such a rare
lot of good fellows that they actually praised that cake and not only
that, they ate it. The cake led to the discovery that the Major's party
had left behind all their coffee, which was what I had used for
flavouring, and they would have to content themselves with tea. From the
heights our men had reached they could see, with a glass, the _Dean_
working rapidly down the river. Next day another party went up to the
same place, and I went along. The photographic outfit had been left
there because rain the day before had spoiled the view, and we were to
bring it down when more views had been taken. After a strong, steep
climb we found ourselves on a peak or pinnacle about 3000 feet above the
river, and therefore 7940 above sea-level.

The view from this point was extraordinary. Far below gleamed the river
cleaving the rocks at our feet, and visible for several miles in the
canyon churning its way down, the rapids indicated by bars of white. One
hardly knew which way to look. Crags about us projected into the canyon,
and I was inspired to creep out upon a long finger of sandstone where I
could sit astride as on a horse and comfortably peer down into the
abyss. It was an absolutely safe place, but Beaman and Clem feared the
crag might break off with me, and they compelled me to come back to
relieve their minds. Seldom does one have such a chance to see below as
well as I could there. The long, narrow mountain stretched off to the
west, seeming not more than a half-mile wide, and split open for its
whole length by the river, which has washed its canyon longitudinally
through it. In all directions were mountains, canyons, and crags in
bewildering profusion.

When Beaman had ended his labours we started down the cliffs with his
apparatus. This was the terror of the party. The camera in its strong
box was a heavy load to carry up the rocks, but it was nothing to the
chemical and plate-holder box, which in turn was a featherweight
compared to the imitation hand-organ which served for a dark room. This
dark box was the special sorrow of the expedition, as it had to be
dragged up the heights from 500 to 3000 feet. With this machinery we
reached camp pretty tired and glad to rest the remainder of the day,
especially as Prof. said we would enter the new canyon the next morning.
This was Sunday. A few minutes after starting we passed between
perpendicular strata rising out of the water, and gradually bending
above over to the horizontal, then breaking into crags. I never saw
anything more like an artificial wall, so evenly were the rocky beds
laid one against another. As we passed into the more broken portion a
flock of sheep came into view high up on the crags on the right standing
motionless evidently puzzled by the sound of our oars. We fired from the
moving boats, but without result. Recovering from their surprise the
sheep bounded lightly away. Our attention was required the next moment
by a rapid which we ran--it was a small one--to find it followed by many
thickly set with rocks. At the first we let down by line for half a
mile, when we had dinner. Then we let down by line another half-mile,
and ran half a mile more in easy water to the head of a very bad place,
one of the worst we had seen, where we made another let-down. There was
never any difficulty about landing when we desired, which made the work
comparatively easy. The _Canonita_ got some hard knocks and had to be
repaired at one place before we could go on. The total distance made was
only about three miles, but we could have gone farther had we not
stopped for investigations, and to mend the boat.

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.