glens from which the canyon is named, worn by the waters into
the homogeneous sandstone composing the walls. This particular glen is a
beautiful spot. The wide entrance contains a number of cottonwood trees,
and passing these one finds himself in a huge cavern some five hundred
feet wide and two hundred feet high, with a narrow slit leading up to
the sky, and extending back far beyond the limits of the glen. The men
found this a delightful place. They sang songs, and their voices sounded
so well that they bestowed upon the cavern the name of Music Temple.
It now holds a special interest because three of them, O. G. Rowland,
Seneca Howland, and William Dunn, carved their names on a smooth face
of rock, and it forms their eternal monument, for these three never saw
civilisation again.

For 149 miles the easy waters of Glen Canyon bore them along, and by
August 4th they had passed the Crossing of the Fathers, or Ute Ford,
as it was called in that country before its identification as the point
where Escalante crossed, and were at the mouth of the Paria, since 1873
better known as Lee's Ferry. They had now before them the grandest of
all the gorges, though only two hundred feet deep at the beginning; but
they had not proceeded far into it before the walls ran rapidly up
while the river ran rapidly down. Numerous falls appeared, one following
another in quick succession, necessitating portages and much hard work.
When Powell managed to climb out on the 7th, the walls had grown to
twenty-three hundred feet. They soon increased to about thirty-five
hundred feet, often vertical on one or the other side at the water, and
even in the upper portions extremely precipitous. By the 10th they had
reached the mouth of the Little Colorado, where White's imagination had
pictured the greatest terror of the whole river, and the end of all the
dangerous part. The walls of this tributary are, as is usually the case,
the same as those of the main gorge, but the stream itself was small,
muddy, and saline. Powell walked up it three or four miles, having no
trouble in crossing it by wading when desirable. He called the new gorge
now before him, really only a continuation of the one ending with the
canyon of the Little Colorado, the "Great Unknown," and a party
some twenty years later, emulating the early Spaniards in the art of
forgetting, called it the same, but it was the Great Unknown only once,
and that was when Powell on this occasion first