The Exploration of the Colorado River and Its Canyons (Penguin Classics) by John Wesley Powell

Author:John Wesley Powell [Powell, John Wesley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2003-05-27T04:00:00+00:00

A TUSAYAN MEALING TROUGH.

July 21.—We start this morning on the Colorado. The river is rough, and bad rapids in close succession are found. Two very hard portages are made during the forenoon. After dinner, in running a rapid, the “Emma Dean” is swamped and we are thrown into the river; we cling to the boat, and in the first quiet water below she is righted and bailed out; but three oars are lost in this mishap. The larger boats land above the dangerous place, and we make a portage, which occupies all the 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 leach 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 cotton wood 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 cottonwoods 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.

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