not found it necessary to line or portage
any rapids since leaving Lodore Canyon; we were hopeful that our good
luck would continue.

Nothing was to be feared from what remained of the Green River, 120
miles or more, for motor boats made the journey to its junction with
the Grand, and we were told even ascended the Grand for some distance.
Below this junction was the Colorado River, a different stream from
the one we were still to navigate.

Before leaving, we ate a final hearty breakfast at the boarding-house
where we had been taking our meals. A number of young men, clerks in
some of the business houses here, were among the boarders. The
landlady a whole-souled German woman and an excellent cook, was
greatly worried over their small appetites, thinking it was a
reflection on her table. She remarked that she hoped we had good
appetites, and I am sure she had no complaint to make so far as we
were concerned. We had never stinted ourselves when on the river, but
the change and the rest seemed to give us an abnormal appetite that
could not be satisfied, and we would simply quit eating because we
were ashamed to eat more. Less than half an hour after one of these
big meals, I was surprised to see my brother in a restaurant with a
sheepish grin on his face, and with a good-sized lunch before him.

CHAPTER XI

WONDERS OF EROSION

_Thursday, October the 19th_. We embarked again with two of our
new-found friends on board as passengers for a short ride, their
intention being to hunt as they walked back. They left us at a ranch
beside the San Rafael River, a small stream entering from the west.
They left some mail with us to be delivered to Mr. Wolverton, whose
son we had met above. About 20 miles below Green River we reached his
home. Judging by a number of boats--both motor and row boats--tied to
his landing, Mr. Wolverton was an enthusiastic river-man. After
glancing over his mail, he asked how we had come and was interested
when he learned that we were making a boating trip. He was decidedly
interested when he saw the boats and learned that we were going to our
home in the Grand Canyon. His first impression was that we were merely
making a little pleasure trip on the quiet water.

Going carefully over the boats, he remarked that they met with his
approval with one exception. They seemed to be a little bit short for
the heavy rapids of the Colorado, he thought. He agreed that our
experience in the upper rap