plateau, were lifted up into colder regions and
discharged their moisture on the summit and against the sides of the
plateau, but there was no rain in the valley below.

_September 9.--_We make a fair start this morning from the beautiful
meadow at the head of the Kanab, cross the line of little hills at the
headwaters of the Rio Virgen, and pass, to the south, a pretty valley.
At ten o'clock we come to the brink of a great geographic bench--a line
of cliffs. Behind us are cool springs, green meadows, and forest-clad
slopes; below us, stretching to the south until the world is lost in
blue haze, is a painted desert--not a desert plain, but a desert of
rocks cut by deep gorges and relieved by towering cliffs and pinnacled
rocks--naked rocks, brilliant in the sunlight.

By a difficult trail we make our way down the basaltic ledge, through
which innumerable streams here gather into a little river running in a
deep canyon. The river runs close to the foot of the cliffs on the
right-hand side and the trail passes along to the right. At noon we rest
and our animals feed on luxuriant grass.

Again we start and make slow progress along a stony way. At night we
camp under an overarching cliff.

_September 10._--Here the river turns to the west, and our way,
properly, is to the south; but we wish to explore the Rio Virgen as far
as possible. The Indians tell us that the canyon narrows gradually a few
miles below and that it will be impossible to take our animals much
farther down the river. Early in the morning I go down to examine the
head of this narrow part. After breakfast, having concluded to explore
the canyon for a i few miles on foot, we arrange that the main party
shall climb the cliff and go around to a point 18 or 20 _\_ miles below,
where, the Indians say, the animals can be taken down by the river, and
three of us set out on, foot.

The Indian name of the canyon is Paru'nuweap, or Roaring Water Canyon.
Between the little river and the foot of the walls is a dense growth of
willows, vines, and wild rosebushes, and with great difficulty we make
our way through this tangled mass. It is not a wide stream--only 20 or
30 feet across in most places; shallow, but very swift. After spending
some hours in breaking our way through the mass of vegetation and
climbing rocks here and there, it is determined to wade along the
stream. In some places this is an easy task, but here and there we come
to deep holes where we have to