EXPERIEXCES IX THE GRAXD CAXYOX 



181 



DARK-ROOM DIFFlCUIvTiES 



We put up our small tent and camped 

 at one place for two days, not only be- 

 cause I was not feeling well, but we 

 Avished to develop some plates and films 

 as well. For this work our dark room, 

 or tent, was hung inside the other tent, 

 and we proceeded with our work just as 

 though we were at home — 300 miles be- 

 low us. We settled the mud in a bucket 

 of water by placing the bruised leaf of a 

 ])rickly pear cactus in the vessel. A sub- 

 stance which oozed out settled the mud 

 and made the water sufficiently clear to 

 develop our plates. A hole dug in the 

 sand at the side of the river gave us 

 water for cooking purposes, nearly as 

 clear and in greater quantities than the 

 method first mentioned. 



Rapid number 23 was just below this 

 camp ; it was one of the biggest drops of 

 any in that section. We made moving 

 pictures of each other in turns as the 

 boats reeled and plunged over the crest- 

 ing waves. We each had an extra oar 

 knocked from our boat in this rapid, but 

 recovered them a mile down stream in a 

 whirlpool. 



rriOTOGRAPHING AN UNRULY SUBJECT 



The walls increased-in height until they 

 towered nearly 3,000 feet above us, the 

 left wall being nearly perpendicular. To 

 prevent our minds from dwelling too 

 much on the dangers which surrounded 

 us, we proposed having a little sport. The 

 two boats were placed stern to stern and 

 lashed together. My brother sat in the 

 first boat and rowed down-stream. I sat 

 on the deck behind with my legs wrapped 

 around the bow, holding the moving-pic- 

 ture camera down with my chin, turning 

 the crank with my right hand, and clutch- 

 ing at the hatch cover with my left hand. 

 In this way we passed over two small 

 rapids. My brother said that the best 

 picture would have been of myself as I 

 rode the bucking boat over the turbulent 

 water. This method was never tried 

 when in the larger rapids. 



The last rapids in Cataract Canyon 

 were the worst of all in some respects. 

 The walls went sheer from the river on 

 one side : the shore had almost disap- 

 peared from the other. Great boulders 



had dropped down and blocked one side 

 of the channel. Twelve-foot waves over- 

 topped and threatened to engulf us as 

 we rowed into this rapid, carefully pull- 

 ing away from the dangerous places. 



But one danger was no sooner avoided 

 than another jumped up before us. In 

 the last rapid the shores disappeared alto- 

 gether. An island lay in the middle of 

 the rapid, but the stream on the left was 

 entirely blocked with rocks. The white 

 water swept under the right wall until it 

 surged into a lot of fallen rock; then it 

 crossed to the opposite side and swept it 

 clean. The rapid was much in the shape 

 of the letter S. 



We rowed into this without stopping 

 to look it over. First we pulled against 

 the current, keeping close to the island, 

 matching our strength and skill with the 

 water which tried to drag us into the 

 turn. This danger past, we pulled across 

 the swift-running center, 6 or 7 feet 

 higher than the water along the shores ; 

 then the opposite side was avoided in the 

 same way, and we landed, breathless, on 

 a shore below the rapid and proceeded to 

 bail out with a grocery box which we 

 kept under the seats. 



Then our thoughts reverted to Smith. 

 AMiat would he do when he came to this 

 rapid? The only escape was a narrow, 

 sloping ledge beginning some distance 

 above the rapid and reaching a height of 

 60 or 70 feet above the water at the lower 

 end of the rapid. It would be possible 

 for him to climb over this with his pro- 

 visions, but the idea of taking his boat 

 up there was entirely out of the question, 

 and, poorly equipped as he was, an at- 

 tempt to run it would only end in dis- 

 aster. The breaking of an oar, the loss 

 of a rowlock, or the slightest knock of 

 his rotten boat against a rock, and Smith's 

 fate would be similar to that of others 

 whose bones were buried in the sands. 



OTHERS WHO HAVE TRIED 



Below Cataract, in Glen Canyon, we 

 came to the Hite ranch and post-office, 

 the first sign of human habitation for 175 

 miles, since leaving Blake, Utah. Mr. 

 Hite had kept a record of the parties who 

 had attempted Cataract Canyon and were 

 never heard from again. On one occa- 



