n to-day, and make oars.

The Colorado is never a clear stream, but for the past three or four
days it has been raining much of the time, and the floods, which are
poured over the walls, have brought down great quantities of mud, making
it exceedingly turbid now. The little affluent, which we have discovered
here, is a clear, beautiful creek, or river, as it would be termed in
this Western country, where streams are not abundant. We have named one
stream, away above, in honour of the great chief of the "Bad Angels,"
and, as this is in beautiful contrast to that, we conclude to name it
"Bright Angel."

Early in the morning, the whole party starts up to explore the Bright
Angel River, with the special purpose of seeking timber, from which to
make oars. A couple of miles above, we find a large pine log, which has
been floated down from the plateau, probably from an altitude of more
than 6,000 feet, but not many miles back. On its way, it must have
passed over many cataracts and falls, for it bears scars in evidence of
the rough usage it has received. The men roll it on skids, and the work
of sawing oars is commenced.

This stream heads away back, under a line of abrupt cliffs, that
terminates the plateau, and tumbles down more than 4,000 feet in the
first mile or two of its course; then runs through a deep, narrow canon,
until it reaches the river.

[Illustration: Fig. 30.--Mu-av Canon, a side gorge]

Late in the afternoon I return, and go up a little gulch, just above
this creek, and about two hundred yards from camp, and discover the
ruins of two or three old houses, which were originally of stone, laid
in mortar. Only the foundations are left, but irregular blocks, of which
the houses were constructed, lie scattered about. In one room I find an
old mealing stone, deeply worn, as if it had been much used. A great
deal of pottery is strewn around, and old trails, which in some places
are deeply worn into the rocks, are seen.

It is ever a source of wonder to us why these ancient people sought such
inaccessible places for their homes. They were, doubtless, an
agricultural race, but there are no lands here of any considerable
extent that they could have cultivated. To the west of Oraiby, one of
the towns in the "Province of Tusayan," in Northern Arizona, the
inhabitants have actually built little terraces along the face of the
cliff, where a spring gushes out, and thus made their sites for gardens.
It is possible tha