THE SILENT EIVER 



67 



blood which the sands at every step are trying 

 to drink up ; but this is suggestion only, not 

 realization. It seems to hint at blood, and 

 under starlight to resemble it ; but the resem- 

 blance is more apparent than real. The Colo- 

 rado is a red river but not a scarlet one. 



It may be thought odd that the river should 

 change so radically from the clear blue-green 

 of its fountain-head to the opaque red of its 

 desert stream, but rivers when they go wander- 

 ing down to the sea usually leave their moun- 

 tain purity behind them. The Colorado rush- 

 ing through a thousand miles of canyons, cuts 

 and carries seaward with it red sands of shale, 

 granite, and porphyry, red rustings of iron, red 

 grits of carnelian, agate and garnet. All the 

 tributaries come bearing their tokens of red 

 copper, and with the rains the whole red sur- 

 face of the watershed apparently washes into 

 the smaller creeks and thus into the valleys. 

 When the river reaches the desert carrying its 

 burden of silt, it no longer knows the bowlder- 

 bed, the rocky shores, the breaking waterfalls 

 that clarify a stream. And there are no large 

 pools where the water can rest while the silt 

 settles to the bottom. Besides, the desert 

 itself at times pours into the river an even 



The blood 

 hue. 



River 

 changes. 



Red sands 

 and silt. 



