out to us a bare patch of brilliant red rocks
saying it was the top of Flaming Gorge, the beginning of the canyon
series. Passing the mouth of Henry's Fork on the right, the river
doubled suddenly to the left between two low cliffs, where there was a
small whirlpool, which I take to be the "Green River Suck" of Ashley and
the early trappers. Around another point we swept and found ourselves
floating on the tranquil waters of Flaming Gorge. A fine grove of deep
green cottonwoods stood out on the left in contrast to the rough red
rocks. There were moored the other boats, which on this occasion had
preceded us, and the ever-faithful Andy was engaged in preparing dinner.
The next and first real canyon was the one called Horseshoe, a short and
beautiful gorge some sixteen hundred feet in depth, and containing rapid
"Number One," a very mild affair, but particularly noticeable because
it is the first of the six hundred, great and small, we had the
satisfaction of vanquishing in our war against the falling waters. We
had already descended something over one hundred and fifty of the five
thousand feet we expected to go down, but there had been only swift
water at that stage of flood; nothing that, on the Colorado, would be
considered a serious rapid.

Every morning the cabins of the boats were packed like so many trunks.
The blankets were rolled up and put in their rubber cases, all bags of
supplies were securely tied and stowed away, in short, every article was
placed in the cabins and the hatches firmly buttoned in place, with the
canvas cover drawn snugly over the deck. Only a grand smash-up could
injure these things. Nothing was left out but such instruments as were
hourly needed, the guns, life-preservers, and a camp-kettle in each
boat for bailing purposes. On each of two boats there was a topographer,
whose duty was to sight the direction of every bend of the river and
estimate the length of the stretch. Thompson, on his boat, also kept a
similar record. The sighting was done with a prismatic compass, and one
of these was rendered more interesting by bearing on the leather case
the name of George B. McClellan, written by the future general when he
was a lieutenant of engineers. There was seldom much discrepancy between
the different estimates made during the day, as men grow very accurate
in such matters, but a check on all estimates was obtained by frequent
observations for latitude and longitude.

The third canyon is