Winsor Castle, the Defensive House at Pipe Springs.
Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903.
Little Zion Valley or the Mookoontoweap, Upper Virgin River.
Photograph by H. Arthur Pomroy, 1903.
The next day we travelled on over hilly country, following a moccasin trail, with here and there cedar groves as we approached nearer to the mountains. On the edge of night traces of water were found in a gulch near the foot of Trumbull, and while Jack and a new member of our force, Will Johnson of Kanab, dug for more, Prof., Jones, and I scoured the vicinity in search of a spring or pocket, but though we found many old wickiups there was no water. The Uinkarets had evidently camped here in wet weather. When we returned we were told that the little trace of water in the gulch had disappeared completely after the digging, a sad development which was accepted by all but one old white horse which stood on the edge of the hole for an hour or more patiently waiting. Our kegs and canteens provided enough to make bread which we ate with sorghum, and as early as possible in the morning we pushed on without breakfast, three men scouting ahead to discover the pool where the Major in the autumn of 1870 had camped. Prof. finally found it, a large pool of about a hundred barrels of clear, clean water, in a lava gulch, surrounded by cedar and piñon trees. Andy then gave us breakfast and dinner at the same time, eleven o'clock. Another new member of our party was Beaman's successor, Fennemore, from Salt Lake, who had joined us at Pipe Spring on March 19th, and he was prepared to photograph the region. We reconnoitred the neighbourhood during the afternoon, and the next morning Jones and I rode in one direction around Mount Trumbull, while Prof. and Captain Dodds rode the other way, to ascertain the lay of the land, and especially to find a ranch which some St. George men had started in this locality. Jones and I met Whitmore, the proprietor of the ranch, and a friend of his, who informed us the ranch was six miles farther on. We concluded not to go to it, but when Prof. and Captain Dodds got in after dark they told us they had gone the whole way. The following day, Monday March 25th, all the party except Andy and a new member, Alf Young of Kanab, climbed to the summit of Mount Trumbull, finding the ascent very gradual and easy and taking the horses to the top, which was 2440 feet above the pool and 8650 above sea level, commanding a magnificent view in every direction, as far to the south-east as Mount San Francisco. Jones, Jack, Fennemore, and I remained there all night while the rest returned to camp. Jones and I wanted to do some topographical work and get sights to some of our other stations, and Fennemore, assisted by Jack, wanted pictures.
Descending the opposite side the next day we went to a spring in an oak grove which Prof. had seen, where the others were already encamped. On the 27th, Prof. and I climbed a high cinder peak, of which there were many, to get a view, and then went to Whitmore's Ranch, where we had a talk with him to get points on the region. He told us he had followed a trail to the Colorado, about twelve miles, to what he called the Ute Crossing. If I remember correctly he had taken a horse down at that point. The next day Johnson and I put a signal flag on one of the high mountains, afterwards named Logan, forming Signal Station Number 7. This was a volcanic district and there were many old craters. Near the Oak Spring camp was an extensive sheet of lava, seeming to have cooled but a year or two before. Its surface was all fractured, but there were no trees on its lower extremity and where it had flowed around a hill its recent plasticity was exceedingly distinct. It had come from a crater, about five hundred feet high, two miles north. This had once been a cone but it was now disrupted, the lava having burst through to the north and to the south, leaving two sections standing, the stream to the south being one quarter mile wide and a mile and a half long, that on the north one mile wide and about the same in length. The depth of these streams was not far from thirty feet, and in spite of the exceedingly rugged surface the southern stream was marked by deeply worn trails running to and from a small spring situated in the middle of it. Beside this spring one of the men from the ranch had found a human skeleton, covered with fragments of lava, with the decayed remains of a wicker water-jug between the ribs, marking some unrecorded tragedy. We estimated that less than three hundred years had passed since the last outburst from the crater. As there were pine trees a hundred years old on the lava where it was more disintegrated near the point of outpour, the age of the flow could not have been less than that.
Friday the 29th being cloudy and stormy nothing in the line of geodetic work was done and we could only rest in camp. Dodds and Jones who had gone to explore a way to the Grand Canyon came in reporting success. Saturday morning Jones and Fennemore started for Kanab to bring out more rations and meet us either at Fort Pierce or at Berry's Spring near St. George, while Prof. with Dodds and Johnson went to try to follow the trail Whitmore had told about to the river, but after four miles they gave it up and climbed by a side trail to the plateau again. They made a dry camp and the next day went on till they found water enough for the horses in some pools on the rocks, and here, leaving the others to continue the reconnaissance, Prof. came back to our camp, arriving in a snow-storm. It had been snowing with us at intervals all day. The next day was April first, and with it came still heavier snow. We planned to move down to the edge of the Grand Canyon, and Jack and Andy started as Jack wished to make some photographs there, but the snow continuing we concluded to wait till another day. When that came the snow was quite deep on the ground and was still falling hard, which it continued to do most of the time, preventing us from moving. Fennemore had brought with him a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo, which I had never read, and in its pages I soon became oblivious to the surroundings. The snow kept on the next day also and all the men out returned to the main camp, Dodds and Johnson having reached the river bank. When another morning dawned and showed no cessation of the aggravating storm, with the snow fifteen inches on the level, Prof. said he would pack up Friday the 5th and get down to lower country around St. George. The day came clear and sunny and the snow began to melt. We headed for the Pine Valley Mountains back of St. George and made about twenty miles with no snow after the first six, the altitude dropping to where the temperature was milder. Prof. had inquired at the ranch about trails, but there were so many cattle trails that we did not get on the right one. We made a dry camp and early the following morning went on, not being able to see any landmarks because of the clouds. Half an hour after starting a thick snow-storm set in but we kept going, till in about a mile and a half the world seemed suddenly to end. Above, below, and around us was a great blank whiteness. Dismounting and cautiously advancing on foot we discovered that we were on the brink of a very high cliff. As we did not know which way to turn we threw off the packs and stopped where we were. Spreading out blankets we scraped the snow from them into the kettles to melt for water. Then by holding a blanket up over Andy by the four corners he was able, with some chips he had previously chopped out of the side of a dead pine, to start a fire, by which he proceeded to cook dinner.