MOUTH OF THE COLORADO TO FORT YUMA—CAMP AT COCOPA VILLAGE. 39 
stock of firewood. As we were making ready to start the sound of paddles was heard, and in 
a few moments one of the steamboats from the fort shot out from behind a bend which had 
concealed her approach. The people on board were so much astonished at the sight of our 
boat, which they had expected to find still upon the ways at Robinson’s Landing, that they had 
got some distance down the river before they thought of stopping. Then they rounded to and 
hauled up alongside of the bank, a hundred yards below. Captain Wilcox was in command. 
He had brought letters for our party and newspapers, the latter containing intelligence of the 
outbreak among the Mormons. Dr. Newberry had nearly recovered from his attack of illness, 
and hoped to be able to join me at the fort and accompany the steamboat up the river. Cap- 
tain Wilcox gave us a piece of fresh beef and a spare rudder, and notified us that the river 
below the fort was in a worse condition than he had ever known it to be. He very kindly 
proposed to carry to Fort Yuma for me the articles that were in the two skiffs, and told me 
that I could leave them at a certain place on the bank in charge of the Indians, who would 
deliver them safely to him as he passed by on his return. I was glad to accept this offer, for 
towing the loaded boats had considerably impeded the Explorer’s progress. When this 
arrangement had been made, he bid us good-by and pursued his way down the river to meet a 
vessel daily expected from the Gulf, while we steamed along in the opposite direction. After 
travelling for a few hours without interruption, we reached the point that had been designated 
by Captain Wilcox, and as it was becoming somewhat late, made the boat fast to a tree and 
went into camp. 
Between camp and the point above Robinson’s Landing, where the Colorado narrows, the 
character of the river has been generally uniform. The banks are low—in few places more 
than eight feet in height—and the country flat for a long distance beyond. On one or both 
sides there is usually a fringe of willow and cottonwood, or a thicket of high reeds. The 
channel is circuitous, but thus far there have been no very sharp bends. In few places has 
the depth of water been less than twelve feet. Slues branch in every direction, and many of 
them might mislead a person unacquainted with the localities. The current has been mode- 
rate, averaging about two and a half knots an hour. At this place, which is forty miles above 
Robinson’s Landing, the tide raises the river two or three feet. The water is perfectly fresh, 
of a dark red color, and opaque from the quantity of mud held in suspension. 
We found a large party of Cocopas—men, women, and children—waiting on the bank, with 
grinning faces, for the arrival of the ‘‘chiquito steamboat,’’ as they call our diminutive vessel. 
They have been thronging about the camp fires all the evening, chattering, laughing, begging, 
and keeping a sharp lookout for chances to appropriate any small articles. I had no hesitation, 
however, in leaving the packages of provisions and stores taken from the skiffs piled in a 
conspicuous place near the edge of the bank, merely notifying them that the things belonged 
to the other steamboat. They reap too much benefit from the parties who ply regularly past 
their villages to risk losing all by a single depredation. One of the Cocopas seemed to 
apprehend that my mind might be ill at ease in regard to the safety of the property, and 
disinterestedly offered to remain and watch it, and deliver a letter from me to Captain Wilcox 
when he should arrive. As he expected me to be equally disinterested, I gave him a piece of 
cotton, of which he was much in need. A few are provided with blankets, but nearly all, 
males and females, are on a scanty allowance of clothing. The women generally have modest 
manners, and many are good looking. They have a custom of plastering their hair and scalps 
with the soft blue clay from the river bank, the effect of which is not at all pretty, but the 
clay is said to be a Kasse oa exterminator of vermin, and as such must give them a great deal 
of comfort. * 
Camp 3, January 1, 1858.—A high north wind has been blowing since morning. The 
distance accomplished has been much diminished by it. On the desert eastward, we have 
seen the sand, in dusky cloud-like masses and great columns, drifting and whirling towards ae 2 : 
