shores, so that we scarcely knew where to
make a landing. Finally we halted on the right, constantly watching the
boats' lines lest the sand should melt away and take our little ships
with it. Along the bases of the cliffs above the high waters were narrow
strips of rocky soil, supporting a few stunted cottonwoods and hackberry
trees, which, with some stramonium bushes in blossom, were the sum total
of vegetation. In every way the Junction is a desolate place. It is the
beginning of Cataract Canyon, and forty-one miles must be put behind us
before we would see its end--forty-one miles of bad river, too. From
a point not far up the Green, which we easily reached with a boat, a
number climbed out by means of a cleft about fifty feet wide, taking
the photographic outfit along. The country above was a maze of crevices,
pinnacles, and buttes, and it seemed an impossibility for any human
being to travel more than a few hundred yards in any direction. The
character of the place may best be illustrated by stating that Steward,
who had gone up by a different route, was unable to reach us, though
we could talk to him across a fissure. Many of these breaks could be
jumped, but some of them were too wide for safety. The surface was
largely barren sandstone, only a patch of sand here and there sustaining
sometimes a bush or stunted cedar. It is the Land of Standing Rocks, as
the Utes call it.

The supplies were now gone over and carefully and evenly divided,
so that an accident to one boat should not cripple us any more than
possible, and on Tuesday, the 19th of September, our bows were headed
down the Colorado. A few miles below the Junction, a trail was seen
coming down a canyon on the left, showing that the Utes have always
known how to find the place. If Macomb had been properly guided he could
have reached it. The familiar roar of rapids soon came to our ears, and
thenceforth there was no respite from them. The first was so ugly that
the boats were lowered by lines, the second was much the same, and then
we reached a third which was even worse. The water was now growing cold,
and as one's clothes are always wet when running rapids or portaging on
the Colorado, we felt the effects of the deep shadows, combined with
the cold drenchings. Our dinners were quickly prepared, for we were
on allowance and Andy was not bothered with trying to satisfy our
appetites; he cooked as much as directed, and if there were hungry men
around it w