CHAPTER XIV
A Company of Seven.—The Nellie Powell Abandoned.—Into Marble Canyon.—Vasey's Paradise.—A Furious Descent to the Little Colorado.—A Mighty Fall in the Dismal Granite Gorge.—Caught in a Trap.—Upside Down.—A Deep Plunge and a Predicament.—At the Mouth of the Kanab.
We now missed Steward, Cap, and Beaman more than ever, for we had been unable to get anyone to take their places. The fact was our prospective voyage through Marble and Grand canyons was considered almost a forlorn hope and nobody cared to take the risk. The plan had been to give me the steering of the Cañonita, but now with three boats and only seven to man them it was plain that one must be abandoned. An examination of them all showed that the Nellie Powell was in the poorest condition and she was chosen for the sacrifice. She was put back in her shelter being afterwards used by Lee for a desultory ferry business, that developed. About ten days before our arrival, the Dean had been discovered by a newspaper man named J. H. Beadle, and used to cross to the north side where he left her. This was how she happened to be there when we came. Beadle had denounced Lee and the Mormons in print and tried to conceal his identity by assuming the name of Hanson, a plan frustrated by his having some clothes, marked with his own name, laundered by Sister Emma. Lee was only amused by the incident. The Dean was to be manned by the same crew as before; Jones to steer, Jack at the after oars, I at the forward pair, and the Major in his usual place on the middle deck. The Cañonita was to have Prof. as steersman, Andy at the stroke oars, and Clem in the bow, Clem having gotten all over his inclination to leave and being determined now to see the end of the voyage before he departed.
The same day that the Major and his party arrived, Jack and I, with Jones steering, tried the Dean by taking Mrs. Thompson, Professor DeMotte, and Lyman Hamblin up the river so that they might see what a canyon was like from a boat. Mrs. Thompson was so enthusiastic that she declared she wanted to accompany us. Prof. took her as passenger on the Cañonita about half-past four on Wednesday, August 14th, when we had completed the sacking and packing of provisions, and with both boats ran down through a small rapid or two about a mile and a half, where we camped at the mouth of a little canyon down which the waggon-road came. Mrs. Thompson enjoyed the exhilaration of descending the swift rushing water and still thought it attractive. I went to Lee's and brought down the Major's arm-chair for our boat, and saw Fennemore who was very sick. We made our final preparations at this point, and I spent most of Thursday morning helping the Major get his papers in order so that if we did not appear again his affairs could be readily settled. This required considerable writing, which I did, for the Major wrote slowly with his left hand, the only one he had. We dined with Lee, having the first watermelon of the season for dessert. Lee was most cordial and we could not have asked better treatment than he gave us the whole time we were at Lonely Dell. In the afternoon our land outfit left for Kanab and we said a last good-bye to the men, who looked as if they never expected to see us again. Only the "Tirtaan Aigles" remained, and there were but seven of these now. The next day we put the finishing touches on the boats, and while we were doing this our late fellow voyageur Beaman, and a companion named Carleton, passed on their way to the Moki Towns where Beaman wanted to make photographs. All being ready the next day, Saturday, August 17th, we pushed out on the mighty Colorado about nine o'clock and by noon ran into Marble Canyon, nearly five miles, passing one small rapid and another of considerable size on a river about one hundred feet wide and extremely swift, with straight walls rapidly increasing from the fifty feet or so at the Paria. Marble Canyon while differing in name is but the upper continuation of the Grand Canyon, there being no line of demarkation other than a change in geological structure and the entrance of the canyon of the Little Colorado. The combined length of the two divisions is 283 miles and the declivity is very great. The altitude of the mouth of the Paria is 3170 feet, while the Grand Wash at the end of the Grand Canyon is 840 feet, leaving a descent of 2330 feet still before us.
At our dinner camp, which was on a talus on the left, the walls were about 500 feet and quite precipitous, but I was able to climb out on the right to get a view of the surroundings. After dinner we went on in our usual order, our boat the Dean in advance and the Cañonita following. The photographing now devolved entirely on Jack and Clem; Andy as usual ran the culinary branch of the expedition, Jones and Prof. meandered the river. We had not gone far after dinner before we were close upon a bad-looking rapid, a drop of about eighteen feet in a distance of 225, which we concluded to defeat by means of a portage on the right-hand bank. As we knew exactly what to do no time was wasted and we were soon below, sweeping on with a stiff current which brought us, in about ten miles from our morning start and five from the noon halt, to a far worse rapid than the last, a fall of twenty-five feet in four or five hundred, with very straight walls six hundred feet high on both sides. The Major concluded to leave the passage of it till the next day, and we went into camp at the head. This was the rapid where disaster fell on the miners, ten in number, who in the spring had stolen a lot of our things at the Paria and started down prospecting on a raft. They saved their lives but not another thing, and after a great deal of hard work they succeeded by means of driftwood ladders in climbing to the top of the walls and made their way to the settlement. This is now called Soap Creek Rapid, being at the mouth of the canyon by which the little stream of that name reaches the river,—a little stream which at times is a mighty torrent. In a small rapid following or in the final portion of this, I believe, is the place where Frank M. Brown, leader of the Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway Survey, was drowned in 1889.
We began work on Sunday, August 18th, by making the portage and had no trouble of any kind, Jack and Clem making some photographs before we finally said good-bye to the place. Continuing on our way we found the river very narrow, not over seventy-five feet in many places and ranging from that to two hundred, with frequent whirlpools strong enough to swing our boats entirely around. Before dinner-time we had put five large rapids behind, and then we halted under a ledge on the left a short distance above a very ugly and difficult prospect. There was an exceedingly heavy descent and a soft sandstone being at the river margin it was worn away, giving little chance for a footing by which to make a portage. The Major and Prof. decided that we could run it safely, and after dinner we shot into it, both boats going through in fine style. Just below was another smaller one that was vanquished easily, and we went swiftly on down the swirling, booming current. Rain fell at intervals to continue our saturation, and with four more rapids, all of which we ran, one having quite a heavy fall, there was little chance for us to dry out. At one point we passed an enormous rock which had dropped from the cliffs overhead and almost blocked the whole river. Then we arrived at a huge rapid whose angry tones cried so distinctly, "No running through here," that we did not hesitate but began a let down forthwith, and when that was accomplished we camped at the foot of it for the night, having come eleven and three-eighths miles during the day. The rapid was extremely noisy and the roaring reverberated back and forth from cliff to cliff as it ascended to the top, 1800 feet, to escape into the larger air. The walls had two or three terraces and were not over three quarters of a mile apart at the summit, the cliff portions being nearly or quite perpendicular. The rocks, of all sizes, which were legion at each rapid, were frequently dovetailed into each other by the action of the current and so neatly joined in a serrated line that they were practically one.
