s hold and goes under; when he comes up he
is caught by Sumner and pulled to the boat. In the meantime we have
drifted down stream some distance and see another rapid below. How bad
it may be we cannot tell; so we swim toward shore, pulling our boat with
us, with all the vigor possible, but are carried down much faster than
distance toward shore is diminished. At last we reach a huge pile of
driftwood. Our rolls of blankets, two guns, and a barometer were in the
open compartment of the boat and, when it went over, these were thrown
out. The guns and barometer are lost, but I succeeded in catching one of
the rolls of blankets as it drifted down, when we were swimming to
shore; the other two are lost, and sometimes hereafter we may sleep
cold.

A huge fire is built on the bank and our clothing spread to dry, and
then from the drift logs we select one from which we think oars can be
made, and the remainder of the day is spent in sawing them out.

_July 12.--_This morning the new oars are finished and we start once
more. We pass several bad rapids, making a short portage at one, and
before noon we come to a long, bad fall, where the channel is filled
with rocks on the left which turn the waters to the right, where they
pass under an overhanging rock. On examination we determine to run it,
keeping as close to the left-hand rocks as safety will permit, in order
to avoid the overhanging cliff. The little boat runs over all right;
another follows, but the men are not able to keep her near enough to the
left bank and she is carried by a swift chute into great waves to the
right, where she is tossed about and Bradley is knocked over the side;
his foot catching under the seat, he is dragged along in the water with
his head down; making great exertion, he seizes the gunwale with his
left hand and can lift his head above water now and then. To us who are
below, it seems impossible to keep the boat from going under the
overhanging cliff; but Powell, for the moment heedless of Bradley's
mishap, pulls with all his power for half a dozen strokes, when the
danger is past; then he seizes Bradley and pulls him in. The men in the
boat above, seeing this, land, and she is let down by lines.

Just here we emerge from the Canyon of Desolation, as we have named it,
into a more open country, which extends for a distance of nearly a mile,
when we enter another canyon cut through gray sandstone.

About three o'clock in the afternoon we meet wi