The opposite wall is a vast amphitheater, rising in a succession of terraces to a height of 1,200 or 1,500 feet. Each step is built of red sandstone, with a face of naked red rock and a glacis clothed with verdure. So the amphitheater seems banded red and green, and the evening sun is playing with roseate flashes on the rocks, with shimmering green on the cedars' spray, and with iridescent gleams on the dancing waves. The landscape revels in the sunshine.
May 31.--We start down another canyon and reach rapids made dangerous by high rocks lying in the channel; so we run ashore and let our boats down with lines. In the afternoon we come to more dangerous rapids and stop to examine them. I find we must do the same work
again, but, being on the wrong side of the river to obtain a foothold, must first cross over--no very easy matter in such a current, with rapids and rocks below. We take the pioneer boat, "Emma Dean," over, and unload her on the bank; then she returns and takes another load. Running back and forth, she soon has half our cargo over. Then one of the larger boats is manned and taken across, but is carried down almost to the rocks in spite of hard rowing. The other boats follow and make the landing, and we go into camp for the night.
At the foot of the cliff on this side there is a long slope covered with pines; under these we make our beds, and soon after sunset are seeking rest and sleep. The cliffs on either side are of red sandstone and stretch toward the heavens 2,500 feet. On this side the long, pine-clad slope is surmounted by perpendicular cliffs, with pines on their summits. The wall on the other side is bare rock from the water's edge up 2,000 feet, then slopes back, giving footing to pines and cedars.
As the twilight deepens, the rocks grow dark and somber; the threatening roar of the water is loud and constant, and I lie awake with thoughts of the morrow and the canyons to come, interrupted now and then by characteristics of the scenery that attract my attention. And here I make a discovery. On looking at the mountain directly in front, the steepness of the slope is greatly exaggerated, while the distance to its summit and its true altitude are correspondingly diminished. I have heretofore found that to judge properly of the slope of a mountain side, one must see it in profile. In coming down the river this afternoon, I observed the slope of a particular part of the wall and made an estimate of its altitude. While at supper, I noticed the same cliff from a position facing it, and it seemed steeper, but not half so high. Now lying on my side and looking at it, the true proportions appear. This seems a wonder, and I rise to take a view of it standing. It is the same cliff as at supper time. Lying down again, it is the cliff as seen in profile, with a long slope and distant summit. Musing on this, I forget "the morrow and the canyons to come"; I have found a way to estimate the altitude and slope of an inclination, in like manner as I can judge of distance along the horizon. The reason is simple. A reference to the stereoscope will
FROM FLAMING GOEGE TO THE GATE OF LODOEE.