to gain the top.

Then we walk out on the peninsular rock, make the necessary observations
for determining its altitude above camp, and return, finding an easy way
down.

_June 19.--_To-day, Howland, Bradley, and I take the "Emma Dean" and
start up the Yampa River. The stream is much swollen, the current swift,
and we are able to make but slow progress against it. The canyon in this
part of the course of the Yampa is cut through light gray sandstone. The
river is very winding, and the swifter water is usually found on the
outside of the curve, sweeping against vertical cliffs often a thousand
feet high. In the center of these curves, in many places, the rock above
overhangs the river. On the opposite side the walls are broken, craggy,
and sloping, and occasionally side canyons enter. When we have rowed
until we are quite tired we stop and take advantage of one of these
broken places to climb out of the canyon. When above, we can look up the
Yampa for a distance of several miles. From the summit of the immediate
walls of the canyon the rocks rise gently back for a distance of a mile
or two, having the appearance of a valley with an irregular and rounded
sandstone floor and in the center a deep gorge, which is the canyon. The
rim of this valley on the north is from 2,500 to 3,000 feet above the
river; on the south it is not so high. A number of peaks stand on this
northern rim, the highest of which has received the name Mount Dawes.

Late in the afternoon we descend to our boat and return to camp in Echo
Park, gliding down in twenty minutes on the rapid river, a distance of
four or five miles, which was made up stream only by several hours' hard
rowing in the morning.

_June 20.--_This morning two of the men take me up the Yampa for a short
distance, and I go out to climb. Having reached the top of the canyon, I
walk over long stretches of naked sandstone, crossing gulches now and
then, and by noon reach the summit of Mount Dawes. From this point I can
look away to the north and see in the dim distance the Sweetwater and
Wind River mountains, more than 100 miles away. To the northwest the
Wasatch Mountains are in view, and peaks of the Uinta. To the east I can
see the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains, more than 150 miles
distant. The air is singularly clear to-day; mountains and buttes stand
in sharp outline, valleys stretch out in perspective, and I can look
down into the deep canyon gorges and see gleaming wate