e
afternoon. We camp at night on the rocks on the left bank, and can
scarcely find room to lie down.

_July 22.--_This morning we continue our journey, though short of oars.
There is no timber growing on the walls within our reach and no
driftwood along the banks, so we are compelled to go on until something
suitable can be found. A mile and three quarters below, we find a huge
pile of driftwood, among which are some cottonwood logs. From these we
select one which we think the best, and the men are set at work sawing
oars. Our boats are leaking again, from the strains received in the bad
rapids yesterday, so after dinner they are turned over and some of the
men calk them.

Captain Powell and I go out to climb the wall to the east, for we can
see dwarf pines above, and it is our purpose to collect the resin which
oozes from them, to use in pitching our boats. We take a barometer with
us and find that the walls are becoming higher, for now they register an
altitude above the river of nearly 1,500 feet.

_July 23._--On starting, we come at once to difficult rapids and falls,
that in many places are more abrupt than in any of the canyons through
which we have passed, and we decide to name this Cataract Canyon. From
morning until noon the course of the river is to the west; the scenery
is grand, with rapids, and falls below, and walls above, beset with
crags and pinnacles. Just at noon we wheel again to the south and go
into camp for dinner.

While the cook is preparing it, Bradley, Captain Powell, and I go up
into a side canyon that comes in at this point. We enter through a very
narrow passage, having to wade along the course of a little stream until
a cascade interrupts our progress. Then we climb to the right for a
hundred feet until we reach a little shelf, along which we pass, walking
with great care, for it is narrow; thus we pass around the fall. Here
the gorge widens into a spacious, sky-roofed chamber. In the farther end
is a beautiful grove of cottonwoods, and between us and the cotton-woods
the little stream widens out into three clear lakelets with bottoms of
smooth rock. Beyond the cottonwoods the brook tumbles in a series of
white, shining cascades from heights that seem immeasurable. Turning
around, we can look through the cleft through which we came and see the
river with towering walls beyond. What a chamber for a resting-place is
this! hewn from the solid rock, the heavens for a ceiling, cascade
fount