July 10.--Sumner, who is a fine mechanic, is learning to take observations for time with the sextant. To-day he remains in camp to practice. Howland and I determine to climb out, and start up a lateral canyon, taking a barometer with us for the purpose of measuring the thickness
of the strata over which we pass. The readings of the barometer below are recorded every half hour and our observations must be simultaneous. Where the beds which we desire to measure are very thick, we must climb with the utmost speed to reach their summits in time; where the beds are thinner, we must wait for the moment to arrive; and so, by hard and easy stages, we make our way to the top of the canyon wall and reach the plateau above about two o' clock.
Howland, who has his gun with him, sees deer feeding a mile or two back and goes off for a hunt. I go to a peak which seems to be the highest one in this region, about half a mile distant, and climb, for-the purpose of tracing the topography of the adjacent country. From this point a fine view is obtained. A long plateau stretches across the river in an easterly and westerly direction, the summit covered by pine forests, with intervening elevated valleys and gulches. The plateau itself is cut in two by the canyon. Other side canyons head away back from the river and run down into the Green. Besides these, deep and abrupt canyons are seen to head back on the plateau and run north toward the Uinta and White rivers. Still other canyons head in the valleys and run toward the south. The elevation of the plateau being about 8,000 feet above the level of the sea, it is in a region of moisture, as is well attested by the forests and grassy valleys. The plateau seems to rise gradually to the west, until it merges into the Wasatch Mountains. On these high table-lands elk and deer abound; and they are favorite hunting grounds for the Ute Indians.
A little before sunset Howland and I meet again at the head of the side canyon, and down we start. It is late, and we must make great haste or be caught by the darkness; so we go, running where we can, leaping over the ledges, letting each other down on the loose rocks, as long as we can see. When darkness comes we are still some distance from camp, and a long, slow, anxious descent is made toward the gleaming camp fire.
After supper, observations for latitude are taken, and only two or three hours for sleep remain before daylight.
July 11.--A short distance below camp we run a rapid, and in doing so break an oar and then lose another, both belonging to the "Emma Dean." Now the pioneer boat has but two oars. We see nothing from