The Grand Canyon.
Character of River in Rapids.
Photograph by F. S. Dellenbaugh, 1907.
Continuing in the morning, September 4th, we lowered the boats past the remainder of the rapid and then shoved out into the terrific current once more. Water could hardly run faster than it now did, except in a fall or rapid. The canyon was narrow and for five miles we encountered the worst whirlpools we had anywhere seen. The descent was swift and continuous, but the river was broken only by the whirlpools and "boils" as we called them, the surface suddenly seeming to boil up and run over. These upshoots, as a rule, seemed to follow whirlpools. In the latter the water for a diameter of twenty or twenty-five feet would revolve around a centre with great rapidity, the surface inclining to the vortex, the top of which was perhaps eighteen or twenty inches lower than the general level. The vortex itself was perfectly formed, like a large funnel, and about six or eight inches in diameter, where it began to be a hole in the water, tapering thence down in four or five feet to a mere point. The same effect is often seen when the water is flowing out of a round wash-basin through a pipe at the bottom. These were the most perfect whirlpools I have ever seen, those above having been lacking in so distinct a vortex. There were many and we could often see them ahead, but try as we would to cleave through without a complete revolution or two of the boat we could not do it. The boats sank down into the hollow, enabling one to look over the side into the spinning opening, but the boats, being almost as long as the whirlpool's usual diameter, could not be pulled in and we were not alarmed. We found it rather interesting to see if we could get through without turning, but we never did. Any ordinary short object or one that could be tipped on end would surely go out of sight. So furious ran the river along this stretch that we found it impossible to stop, the boats being like bits of paper in a mill-race, swinging from one side to the other, and whirling round and round as we were swept along between the narrow walls till we ran the granite under about five miles from our last camp. Finally, after a run all told of fourteen miles with twenty-three rapids, we made Camp 103 with walls of friendly sandstone about us. Here again we discovered a small clear spring for drinking and cooking purposes. There was no rain this day and at night we put on our dry clothes with confidence and had a warm comfortable camp with a good sound sleep.
Thursday morning found us early on the river, which to our surprise turned suddenly in a north-north-east direction. When we had gone about nine miles and had run the granite up and down again, it began to turn to the west. At one point the river was not more than fifty feet wide; the current was everywhere exceedingly strong and there were many rapids, of which we ran twelve, and made a portage at another, and a let-down at still another. We camped at the end of the nine miles on a small sandbank, with the total height of walls about four thousand feet, breaking back in terraces after about eight hundred feet. Clem and Jack made a number of photographs wherever practicable, and altogether they had succeeded in securing a representative collection.
During the morning of Friday, September 6th, we ran two rapids in two miles, which brought us to one which we thought required a let-down and we made it. As it was easy, Jack and Clem busied themselves photographing while we were doing it, and we also had dinner here. About two o'clock we went on and in less than three miles ran four rapids, the fourth being an exceedingly heavy fall, at the foot of which we went into camp on the right bank. A little distance above on the same side of the river was a fine clear cold creek larger than the Paria in quantity of water. We called it Tapeats Creek, because a Pai Ute of that name, who had pointed it out to the Major from the Kaibab, claimed it. During the day the work had been far less strenuous, there were few whirlpools, the river was falling, and it was in every way much easier than above in the granite. A morning was spent at Tapeats Creek for examinations, and we found there some ancient house ruins not far up the side canyon. I discovered a fine large metate or Indian mill, deeply hollowed out, and foolishly attempted to take it to camp. On arriving there it was so heavy I had to drop it and it broke in two, much to the Major's disgust, who told me I ought to have let it alone, a fact which I realised then also. Our rations were now running very low again, for we had taken more days for this passage than were planned, and as soon as we launched forth after dinner we began to look longingly for the mouth of Kanab Canyon and the pack-train. The river was much easier in every respect, and after our experience of the previous days it seemed mere play. The granite ran up for a mile or two, but then we entered sedimentary strata and came to a pretty little cascade falling through a crevice on the right from a valley hidden behind a low wall. We at once recognised it as one which Beaman had photographed when he and Riley had made their way up along the rocks from the mouth of the Kanab during the winter. We remembered that they had called it ten miles to the Kanab from this place, and after we had climbed up to examine what they had named Surprise Valley we went on expecting to reach the Kanab before night. Running several small and one fairly large rapid, we saw, after twelve miles from the last camp, a seeming crack on the right, and a few seconds later heard a wild yelling. In a little while we landed and lowered to the head of a rapid, and running to the right up the backwater into the mouth of the Kanab Canyon, we found George Adair, Nathan Adams, and Joe Hamblin, our three faithful packers, waiting there for us with the rations. They had grown very anxious, for we were several days overdue, and they feared we had been destroyed,—a fear that was emphasised by one of Andy's discarded shirts washing ashore at their feet. We pulled the boats a short distance up the Kanab on the backwater and made a comfortable camp, 106, on its right bank, where we were soon lost in letters and papers the pack-train had brought down.
Our altitude was now 1800 feet above sea-level, showing a descent from the Little Colorado, in about 70 miles, of 890 feet, with 131 rapids run, besides six let-downs and seven portages. The total descent from the Paria was 1370 feet.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] There is but one Grand Canyon—the one here referred to. Persons unfamiliar with Western geography frequently confound the Canyon of the Arkansas with that of the Colorado because the former is in the state of Colorado. The Grand Canyon is in Arizona but on the Colorado River.
[33] Professor Thompson in his diary calls the descent 130 feet in three-quarters of a mile.